Though scorching‚ her hands did not react‚ the skull of her mate‚ her lover‚ her friend in life. His hand reached into the wicker basket removed two large red stones‚ placed a stone in each of the skull’s eye sockets. They began to glow‚ intensifying until they became fiery red staring into her eyes and soul. She breathes in the fragrance of incense and that of the cauldron’s brew‚ most pleasurable among fragrances her mate’s blood covering her body in its most natural state. She brought it to her
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David: Welcome Thomas‚ we are very glad you came. Thomas: Thanks! I am happy to be here. David: We invited you here to ask you questions about your last several weeks during the trials. These trials must had been very hard on you and your friends. Thomas: Yes‚ those weeks were the hardest times of my life‚ and the only ones I can remember. David: Why is that? Thomas: When WICKED first gathered all of their test subjects‚ they erased most of our memories. We could remember the names of objects
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One day‚ in June‚ I was at tumbling class. It was about 80 degrees and sunny. It smells like sweat‚ but I’m used to it. An old‚ dingy and torn apart gym. A drop of sweat comes down my face and I got an idea. A dumb idea. Everything was going great until something vile happened‚ something that I will never forget. I was in line waiting for my turn‚ and I decided to go off to the side and practice one of my own tricks. Then BOOM‚ I broke my arm‚ I couldn’t explain how fast it went. My coach came
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JORGE One night in Jamaica‚ a warm breeze rustled the trees‚ they seemed to whisper to him. As night fell‚ he watched the sun set and tried to count the stars. Jorge sat watching as the stars appeared in the sky. He couldn’t count‚ so high and decided and closed his eyes. Jorge leaned his head back into his palms and sighed. He was sprawled out on the cool grass. He patted his dog beside him. It would soon be time for dinner and he must go in and help his grandmother prepare the family meal
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not only in human life but also in human created systems such as society‚ culture‚ or knowledge – empires and nations rise and fall‚ culture evolves‚ knowledge is replaced. As humans‚ we spend our lives in subconscious existential crisis‚ trying to understand the meaning of existence
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It may have been rough in the wild‚ but no one disrespected my solitude. And they’re the ones that leave the front door open for so long! Sometimes I think they want me to run out. But alas‚ every time I bolt out the door I hear a chorus of “JB!!!”s. I try and hide in the neighbor’s bushes‚ but somehow they always find me‚ and I am un-willfully carried back inside. Life inside has gotten quite boring. I already found all the sunny spots the during the first few weeks of indoor existence‚ and
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James Joyce: Symbols of Religion in his short story “Araby” Alongside the dawn of the twentieth century appeared an author by the name of James Joyce. Joyce introduced the idea that language can be manipulated and transformed into a new original meaning. “Some critics considered the work a masterpiece‚ though many readers found it incomprehensible” (The Literature 1). Joyce’s stories were not welcomed with open‚ inviting arms; instead they were undesired by publishers and his books were immensely
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Why do people want to live in a perfect world? Everyone wants to live in their own fantasy world because that is where all their dreams are able to come true. No one wants a world of grief and sorrow. Life should be lived to its fullest. It should not be wasted. It should be embraced. When we are faced with agony‚ we must either make a choice between accepting it or hiding from it. In the play “A Streetcar Named Desire” by Tennessee Williams‚ the author mainly focuses on Blanche Dubois‚ a woman who
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My life begins here in Brownsville‚ Texas. However‚ I was only there from the beginning when I was a newborn before going back to Matamoros‚ Tamaulipas where my family had their own house. My mom wanted to have me in the U.S. because people had told her that there were far more opportunities over here. Technically‚ these two cities have become my two homes. I do miss Matamoros‚ Tamaulipas because that’s where I spend most of my childhood until I was seven years old. Then we had to return back to
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Howardsville‚ a quaint little city‚ nestled in the foothills of the Putney Mountains located forty miles southwest of Charleston‚ West Virginia‚ had its own dark history. Having lived his entire life in the two–story house on the outskirts of town‚ Ernest Cassidy was familiar with the myths‚ legends‚ and lies about his city and was always quick to defend it. The mysteries began years earlier when Dr. Ronald Hackney; a surgeon at General Hospital in Charleston came up missing. One morning‚ he didn’t
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