I guess Ivy will stay in my imagination“ he laughed lightly. I played dumb looking at his arm where he had a tattoo of the Ivy. He was trying to light up the mood. „You know I had that dream once that we had an intercourse and after we talked about our future. We talked about our kids. You wanted a girl named Ivy.“ He was still holding me and the tears were already ready to fall and I did not care anymore as I was dying. He tattoed a name Ivy below his heart. Not his name‚ not my name‚ not my date
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watched him approach. I’ve never seen him before. He looks so serious‚ what is h.. before I could finish my thoughts I felt his hand grabbing my neck. "Do you know what time is it‚ little lady? Have you seen any other female walking here at this time of night? You’re in my hood‚ little lady‚ I’d feel guilty if one of my "gorillas" do something bad to you." He took his hand off and sincerely apologized. I told him I don’t speak his language very well which made him even more angry. "Crazy idiot
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That day was not an ordinary day‚ I knew that from the start- but what I didn’t anticipate was that my whole week would have the same feeling. A flutter feeling that you get about something that you have already done before‚ feeling like it’s about to be the first time that you have done it. The ring of the phone was the first thing I heard that day‚ the ring that belonged to the call that started it all. ‘Hello‚’ I mumbled as I was still half a sleep. ‘Hello‚’ the person replied‚ there voice
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Luminous were the lights as they shone upon the golden masks of the dancing party guests. Women gracefully glided across the ballroom‚ the slow‚ rhythmic “click clack” of their heels echoing throughout the space‚ as their gowns twirled nonchalantly around their bodies‚ accentuating the soft yet striking colors of their dresses. They firmly clutched onto their partner’s shoulder‚ as if afraid that they would fall‚ and their partners in turn held a firm grip around their waist. Snap. And just like
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CRASH. SCREEECH-BANG! Many protesting and angry yells went up into the pale NYC morning sky‚ caused by what looked like a small‚ red‚ and motorized wagon. It looked like this because that was exactly what it was. This “Motor-wagon” was piloted by a young-ish‚ tall-ish‚ and mostly bald man named Evan Victor Ite-Laught. Anyway‚ the sources of the yells were victims of a small red blur of dents‚ scratches‚ and crashes careening around the corner somewhere around 20 miles/hour too fast. Evan was in a
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THE DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE IN TENNYSON’S ULYSSES The greatest Victorian contribution to poetry is certainly the form of the dramatic monologue. A dramatic monologue is defined by various critics as a type of poem in which a single speaker‚ a persona‚ “utters the speech that makes up the whole of the poem‚ in a specific situation at a critical moment.” This speaker addresses and interacts with one or more other people. They are silent but usually identifiable listeners in whose presence the speaker reveals
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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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I was seeing red and I demanded answers. “Who are you?! Show yourself right this instance.” “Who am I you ask. Why don’t you figure that out Mari.” The voice took on an even more mocking tone‚ making me see nothing but the little red furies passing through my brains. “ How do you know my name? And when I find out who you are I am going to tell my father and we will sue you for harassing me!” The voiced had burst out laughing at my statement‚ then belted out in mock horror“ Oooohhhh! I am so
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