Timmy‚ was a very kind‚ and hardworking student‚ and he was humble. Tommy‚ was a spoiled and lazy student‚ and he was very conceited. A big test was coming up. Even though Timmy knew the topic the test was on‚ he still studied hard long hours. Tommy‚ on the other hand‚ didn’t pay attention in class‚ and copied other peoples’ homework‚ so he didn’t know the topic very well. Timmy studied every night before the test. Timmy would go home every day‚ finish all his homework‚ then would help make dinner
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“I disagree with your interpretation of the main idea.” Kim said to Austin as they sat on the cement stair in Austin’s backyard and discussed about their short story analysis work from English class. It was just after rain‚ the sky was still filled with gray clouds‚ but at least the temperature had cooled down a little bit. Kim secretly felt bad for Austin‚ that now he was stuck with her for this “working buddies” thing in English. Why would someone stupidly arrived class late and became my deskmate
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Hofstede cultural dimensions High Power Distance First of all‚ Power distance is the one of the important part in Hofstede’s cultural dimensions. Power distance means that “ beliefs about the appropriate distribution of power in society. Which power distance level included high power distance and low power distance”. (Steers‚ et al.‚ 2010‚ p.56). In Asia‚ normally many countries are representatives of the high power distance. Of course it also comprise Laos. In Laos‚ that high power distance
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was so young during that time period‚ I had absolutely no idea that my family was homeless. The word homeless comes with such a bad attachment‚ so for a long time I never spoke about it to anyone. But‚ I think it’s important to share your personal story‚ in hopes that another can relate. About three years of my life were spent either in a car or a shelter or once in a while at a family/friends home. Given that‚ I think it would be best to speak only about the first year. Granted that it was the most
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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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Zichao Huang Mr. Lambert English028 March 17‚ 2015 The Story of an Hour “The Story of an Hour” is about a woman named Mrs. Mallard who is married to a man named Mr. Mallard. Mrs. Mallard does not have a very good heart‚ and she is sick. Something bad has happened‚ and people do not know how to tell her about it. Josephine is her sister‚ and she tells Mrs. Mallard that Mr. Mallard died in a train accident. Richards is Mr. Mallard’s friend‚ and he is there because he knew about the accident. Richards
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BELONGING STORY(2) Coughing violently‚ I passed the glass pipe along to the young man beside me‚ who took a long drag before handing it on the next in the circle. I could feel the foul-tasting smoke tear down my throat and withstood the urge to vomit. The entire room was overflowing with a fetid haze; it grated against the back of my throat as though it were sandpaper. I fought to maintain my composure and appearance of serenity‚ but if anyone looked close enough they would easily be able to distinguish
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In Control In my sophomore year of high school‚ I remember a particular speech I had to deliver in my English class. It was just like any other‚ honestly. But this one‚ this specific one‚ gave me the greatest trouble. My irrational fear of public speaking consumed me and turned me against myself. I remember the mindset that I had for most of my sophomore year: me vs. them. That was how high school was. It was every man for himself. But never would I have ever thought that I was my own biggest obstacle
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Five Somebody told me before that when you feel almost nothing at all‚ only plain unhappiness‚ then just die. You always want to find an explanation for feeling so empty‚ but what was that for? Nothing. If you feel that way‚ then that’s depression‚ and I’m telling you‚ that thing kills every part of you. Well‚ at least‚ that’s what it does to me. Dr. Marie once said that she knew everything about my condition and she’s dead wrong; I know myself more than everybody does. After that check-up‚ I
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very few could manipulate it to their will. The man in this story is me‚ my name is Rayn and I write this story to chronicle my rise to power. My journey started when I was in my mid twenties and our country was at war with a neighboring kingdom. I was a guard for a small village which was ruled by the empire of Luton grod. One day while out on patrol a strange old man was making his way to our village. This is where our story begins. The
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