I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I had seen him many times on tv and in pictures. However‚ seeing him in person gave off a sense of wonderment. Knowing what he had put me through also drove me angry. These two emotions fought within me and I could walk anymore. My mom‚ who was still holding me‚ tried pushing me forward. I pushed back into her and knocked her onto the ground. "Avia." Aksel said from in front of me. He was standing directly next to the president. My mom got up and forced my arms
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Dr. Spock paced back and forth muttering to himself like a madman‚ pulling at his hair in his frenzied haste. “I just don’t understand‚ it doesn’t make any sense‚” he muttered‚ desperately gazing at the wall before him‚ covered with documents interconnected with a web of red strings. He quickly gazed up at me‚ his eyes bloodshot and skin a pallor grey‚ “We must do the impossible” he whispered so quietly that I had to strain to hear him‚ “We must open the portal.” “No‚” I said in a shaky voice‚
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Ding‚ding‚ding‚ring. I hear my phone buzzing terrified to pick it up the laughing in the distance. I can hear Becca’s heels coming down the hallway. I’m trying to decide whether to run or stay there and take the wrath of her and her “minions.” Think Scarlet... too late. Becca is standing in front of me with her bleach blonde hair and minty breath. I can feel her eyes burning in my head. Scared looked up‚ she asks “ Have you seen your phone lately?” Laughs burst of behind me. Embarrassed I respond
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Characters- No Sugar Through the characters names all the aboriginal names are given Christian names while the white characters almost without exception are given titles and surnames. This humanizes the aboriginal characters and dehumanizes the white characters while highlighting their position of power. White characters are demonized by their actions as well as their names‚ they refer to going back to the Tasmanian solution (pg44)‚ showing that they have no regard for the aboriginal’s lives
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comedy projected by Charlie. This essay explores the film The Gold Rush and how the film’s indications of early genre such as film‚ comedy‚ music and melodrama have helped develop and convey the film’s language and plot. The essay will also examine conventions available and how the film bucks our expectations of the genre. New York Times in its critique indicated that at last the world had realized a comedy with streaks of poetry and tenderness. Chaplin’s music in the film was in line with the nature
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I wandered slowly into the sun room‚ sliding my fingers over mantelpieces and collapsing with a big sigh‚ face down onto a conveniently placed floral couch. My mother looked up from her sewing with an amused smile‚ her short black hair shining in the misty sunlight drifting lazily through a permanently open window. A few overly ambitious green vines had already crept onto the sill and nature’s presence leaned in like a curious gardener. Mum mildly commented that a bit of dusting usually helps to
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My heart was racing‚ only got four hours of sleep. My nerves are on edge. I’m worried I will not find my classes. I walked the crowned hallways with red and black stripes on the walls. With my head down‚ I make my way swiftly through the mass of people. I became more anxious‚ more on edge. While waiting in the lobby for my friends to arrive‚ the thoughts and eagerness to know what was in store for my freshman year began to overcrowd my mind. After waiting for a few minutes my friends arrive. We
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Bella pov "What is that?’’ One of the women asked in a soft voice as her hand shot up to cover her mouth. I did my best to pulling it out of Jame’s hand. But he tightened his grip on my tail. "It’s a tail!" Laughed a man with white blonde hair. "Can I feel it?’’ Asked the same women. It’s caught my attention‚ my eyes snapped to her. They wanted to feel my tail? My blood started to boil with anger as she stepped forward. My eyes darken and I pulling against my bonds‚ bearing my teeth at her hissing
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My father trotted up to the dart game‚ like he was a big shot. I requested if I could play at least once. He said “sure thing.” As I walked up to the stand with the dart already on the table‚ I thought I was ready to throw it at the rubbery balloon. I closed my dark brown eyes and squinted very tight at the only balloon I wanted. With my trembling arm I tossed the dart at the balloon‚ but I “wamm.” I had popped the wrong one. Dad started to play the game‚ trying to win me the certain fluffy white
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“Once upon a time…” Sitting in my chair‚ looking at my vanity. I sat there waiting for my third sister to retrieve me for the ball that the Duke was having. I looked at the liar in the mirror. She wasn’t bad looking‚ long brown hair twisted by the maids‚ feathers adorned her she again‚ this year she was an owl‚ one of those pretty barn owls that live in my bird collection. My dress was a mess of brown and white feathers‚ I stared at the mirror and the only thing that always catches me is the sad
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