it was a cold grey day in late September. The weather had metamorphosed overnight‚ when a backing wind brought a granite sky and a mizzling rain with it‚ and although it was now only two fifty-seven in the afternoon the ashen hue of a winter evening seemed to have closed upon the hills‚ cloaking them in mist. It would be dark by five o clock. The air was clammy cold‚ and for all the sealed windows it still penetrated the interior of the carriage. The leather seats felt damp to the hands‚ there must
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Thus‚ comfortably seated with a pen on hand in the warm confines of my bed room‚ I started to pour down my thoughts into writing‚ quietly praying that he will be able to know‚ at least the extent of my emotions… Briefly written in a small parchment‚ I folded the paper into four and noticing how it started to our heavily outside‚ I pulled out my drawer and produced a red folded
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George Wing Instructor: Abby Wolford English 101-004W June 12‚ 2013 Cramer Lakes The Cramer Lakes are nestled six miles up a gentle incline from Redfish Lake in the Sawtooth Wilderness of Idaho. The jagged‚ irregular peaks of the ridges surrounding the lakes form the horizon. Mt Cramer towers over the rest at an elevation of 10‚715 feet‚ the second highest mountain in the range. Each of the three lakes has a short outflow into the next‚ eventually reaching the South fork of the Payette River
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Describe the scene at a train station It is 8 o’clock in the morning at Liverpool train station‚ the busiest hour throughout the whole day‚ it’s also known as the rush hour. Trains of all imaginable colours gradually draw to a halt‚ causing a slightly burned smell from the brakes. As the automatic doors fly open‚ continuous flows start of people shoving and pushing‚ rushing to get off into the already crowded station. The noise of the tannoy is hidden beneath the murmur of the crowds of people
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I remember the events of 9/11 like they were yesterday. The enormous‚ burning building collapsing to the ashy ground‚ people desperate to stop the plane that was being flown at 600 miles per hour‚ the impact of when the plane collided with the building‚ the screams and cries for help‚ along with my fellow passengers calling their loved ones to say they’re not going to make it. Yes‚ I said my fellow passengers. My name Lauren Kriewitz‚ and I am a survivor of the treacherous 9/11 attack. My flight
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Imagine you just finished working your nine to five job and your boss is livid at you for not finishing your project by its deadline. You’re frustrated and want to get home. You stroll into the subway station and board the train en route to your house. You take a seat at the back of the train and just sit there with anguish on your mind. The train shuts its doors and the train starts moving forward. It’s a chilly winter evening and there’s a thunderstorm brewing outside. The wind is fierce‚ ricocheting
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The Fosdyck family is running through the airport‚ pulling our suitcases behind us. Parents all around us are doing a mental roll-call to make sure they haven’t lost any little ones along the way. Outside the huge glass windows that line every corridor‚ airplanes’ engines are heard. We board our flight‚ kids‚ parents‚ and grandparents‚ and buckle up. We stayed in a cabin on the beach. When I say beach I mean a rocky‚ windy shoreline with lots of ocean spray. My brothers played outside and chased
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There are places in the world that take your breath away and make you feel alive all at once. Big Bend National Park is one of these places. Despite what many people think‚ Big Bend has more to offer than just deserts‚ cacti‚ and zero wifi. It is filled with beautiful wildlife and splendid mountains. My aunt used to live and work there as a park ranger and seeing her so little during the year made our visits over Christmas break that much more meaningful. One of those times sticks out in my mind
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I rush downstairs as fast as a five year old with snow pants a pink puffy jacket could. I put on my warmest socks that I packed and sit down on the couch so my mom can put on my snow boots. It’s 2007 and my parents decide to take us to our grandparents house in Vermont for our school vacation. We’re getting ready to go sledding on the Mount Snow golf course. After we all have our winter clothes on‚ we head outside. We all gather up the best sleds and start our journey to the hill. Me‚ being the
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Le Fou was a spectacular musician who loved to perform in front of spectators‚ and he loved playing all assortments of instruments. But by far‚ his favorite was the harp. Le Fou was infatuated by all string instruments‚ almost to the point of insanity. He enjoyed the feeling of the soft but coarse cords against his fingers. So when Le Fou heard the rumor of the golden harp he was obsessed‚ he had to find this “magical instrument”. Fortunately‚ Le Fou was born into a wealthy family and had inherited
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