Without hesitation‚ riding in a bus is the most boring‚ gloomy places I can imagine being in since it has haunted consecutive saturday mornings. I sat eerily awaiting the early 6:00 bus. The hard cheap metal bench rests uneasy beneath me. I loom in darkness seeing as the rising sun hid fearfully beneath the bleak clouds. The only lights in sight are are the dim streetlights across from me and the faint glow from my phone display. Weakly off in the distance the sound of the crosswalk signal rings
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I knew he was leaving. I could see the anxious anticipation in my mothers body language in the days before. I knew he was leaving. I coud hear him still rummaging around in the closet‚ carefully selecting the uniforms that he would wear when he was gone. I felt a slight pain in my chest knowing that I would now become the man of the house once again. I saw him lay his duffel bag along with his carry on in the corner of the living room that he and I had painted the month before. I glanced up to the
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body seemed to be a bit blurry‚ as if a pale light was covering it. Strangely enough‚ there were no shadows on her face‚ almost as if she had a natural glow instead of the moonlight falling from the sky. She wore a simple white dress that was a bit short‚ showing a glimpse of her long legs. Her icy blue eyes were gazing intently at the moon just like the man by her side. Her brows were lightly furrowed‚ her lips tightly pursed. She was clearly worried about something‚ but she avoided voicing it aloud
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Eric Moore Essay #1 #365 September 4‚ 2010 My eyes and ears open to the sound of chirping birds outside the dew covered window and my alarm buzzing behind my head. I sense that my room is still messed up from the night before after I threw my gym bag down from practice yesterday night. I stretch my arms and legs as I prepare to get out of my warm bed. I was so sore from practice it felt as if my muscles turned of and I couldn’t move for the whole time. I started to get the feeling back into
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While the mob and their torches believe I am still on the other side of their camp‚ I waste no time in setting off my last great plan for this morning. While it may be true that they dug their fires into pits in the ground to hide from me‚ they will regret making it so easy for me to access them. Gripping my filth ridden rod tightly I make a final jab‚ into their very own fire pit‚ striking it as though it were one of the petty brigands. It doesn’t take very long for the rod to become engulfed in
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previous year. I hadn’t bothered to peel it off. The blue paint was slowly peeling off and the lock only worked half the time. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and shook it out before grabbing my textbook out of the locker. My nails were bitten short with chipped blue nail polish. Last class I had destroyed them with anxiety. I shut my locker in frustration‚ knowing the next time I tried to open the locker it would probably be stuck‚ and swung the worn bag on my left shoulder. I shoved my hands
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splattered by sand and mud. The car was parked next to a small cottage belonging to ‚ caked in bright pink and yellow paint. Proud roosters with long‚ shiny‚ satin feathers‚ squawked noisily. Lazy goats waddled around‚ nibbling on vibrant green grass. Short trees covered in ripe‚ yellow bananas flourished‚ along with grapefruits and tall palm trees. Fire red flowers the size of lamp poles with small snow-white buds swayed gently in the warm ocean breeze. Although I couldn’t see very far past the dense
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green and black alarm clock goes off on the tableside next to my eardrum. I roll over onto my right side and hit the dismiss button turning off the vexatious sound. Slithering out of bed‚ I flick on the lights and slide on the usual black shirt‚ black jeans‚ and Converse; since it is the middle of January I put on a black beanie. I glide down the stairs and I topple over a colossal cardboard box and assuming it has Richard written in illegible letters‚ I know my stepdad has taken residence in my
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The Trenches – WW1 I’m encapsulated in the unending nightmare of fear. The rain continues to bore on infinitely‚ pounding on the grubby ground and turning it into vast lakes of murky water. The miserable‚ grey clouds covered the sky‚ only letting a few rays of sun slip through. The monotonous sound of raindrops beating on the helmets of the soldiers thundered down like bullets. Everything was miserable‚ grey‚ and lacklustre. The thick layer of mud squelched beneath my feet as I struggled to walk
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Descriptive writing on satis house As I approached Satis house inside of my carriage I could feel the nerves growing inside of me. I got close to the rusted gates and stopped I had to get out and walk up to the old withered gates. I felt my feet stick to the ground and I found it quite hard to breath. The sounds around me was getting very load like I was standing next to a roaring plane even know I was getting further away I could hear the crows in the background and the snorting horses. When
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