Play’s Exert: “Andrea?” May called out‚ peeking into the eerie dark room. The blinds had been closed‚ and the bed untouched. The only sound came from the rapid writing of Andrea. Abnormal and futile. “Andrea?” May repeated. Andrea stopped her obsessive writing and looked up. Her paper looked like wild chicken scratches. Her pencil dented by her nails. What had they wanted! Couldn’t they see how she had been writing. Writing to their father. He had lived underneath the earth’s surface but she had
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Aurora brought a bent finger to her lips and choked down the blood that built up in her throat. Eyes blinked back tears at the burning sensation in her gut. How she had wilted in the past few months. The Priory had eventually sent her home to lay in her own bed. For so long‚ she had been distant from her family without explanation‚ but the past few months had explained why. As she laid there with ashen skin‚ Eos held her clammy hand and swallowed forcefully. Anna and Edward stood bedside but neither
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I opened the white creaky door expecting the usual‚ being attacked with kisses by a little red haired pomeranian (AKA the ankle biter.) I got inside‚ but nothing. Tasha wasn’t by the door. Everything was silent. Maybe she’s getting her hair cut. I walked to the end of the hallway where we kept her faded‚ red dog bed that was always heaped with blankets. There I found her lying in the bed. She looked up at me with the saddest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen. Her breathing was heavy‚ she trembled as she
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Dyler stroked the horse’s thick mane‚ using his fingers to comb out the knots in its relatively well-groomed hair. Suddenly‚ his stomach rumbled - a deep rumble‚ like that of thunder. Only from his stomach. It was time for lunch. The horse‚ as if understanding‚ snorted‚ licked his arm‚ and trotted back to the other horses‚ swishing its tail with the pleasant summer breeze. Dyler smiled and jogged back to his home. The last thing he needed was for Marie to scold him for being late. Again. But when
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Mere seconds after the sun had fallen‚ an army of artificial light stood at attention. The remnants of the retreating darkness danced around the figure of the sole woman wandering along the vacant streets. Her feet shuffled briskly as her eyes scrutinized the puffs of her breath escaping her nostrils. The man-made lights exposed no excitement from her face over spending a single unnecessary second on the squalid inner city streets. The woman reached into her oversized purse without sparing a glance
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As the calm sounds of the cloister bell rang through the late evening hours‚ Eric lay reclined back in a chair in one of the most secluded rooms‚ waiting in the dark with an air of desperation. Even though he had retained a slight ray of hope‚ Eric realized that there still existed the chance that he would indeed soon meet his end. While his fingers work through his blonde locks once again‚ finally he heard the distinct clipping noise approaching down the hallway; his progeny Pam had returned but
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Scarlet was not alone. Kole had doubted she would be. At their arrival on her balcony‚ she had raised an eyebrow and a finger and closed the door. Kole had collapsed on the floor‚ Chase lowering himself down next to him. They heard Scarlet finish up with whatever leviathan that was moaning and moving on her bed. It sickened Kole. Usually‚ he would have a quip or two to say about it‚ but in his current state he barely had the energy to remain sitting. When Scarlet did appear‚ dark robe loosely tied
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My goal for this essay is to articulate my ideas in a more direct manner. I want to get straight to the point and cut out everything else. I would also like to improve on my punctuation as it is pretty bad right now. Biff and Happy are two sides of the same coin. They grew up together in the same place side by side; however‚ they ended up on two completely different paths. The same can be said for the two boys in “Tracks and Ties‚” these two friends who did everything together went their separate
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Memories chosen to go with a person in time affect their entire perception of life. Our personal feelings have a relation to our memories. The memories carried by a person can easily be untrustworthy through the storyteller. In Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?‚ Jeanette’s memory is not reliable because of her own perception of her adolescent life. Jeanette Winterson recognizes that‚ as the story teller‚ we see the story through her eyes. She is very straight forward as she recites the haunting
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Alternative Ending - Overview and Guidelines English 11 A – American Literature 24 points Guidelines: (Final Draft Only!) 1” margins 12 point font – preferably Times or Arial Black ink Single Spaced Heading in the upper left corner margin (Not in the Header) Your name Alternative Ending English 11 Teacher’s name Date Centered title under heading (Be creative!) Overview: For this portfolio assignment‚ you will create an alternative ending for one of the stories you have read in Unit 4. Step 1:
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