My identity is in a jar in the can house. It’s the white breath exhausted over greasy tools in rusty‚ silt-filled drawers. The mountain sounds‚ the back-up sirens‚ and steam whistles are my sounds. Spring is cold in the high country. Where hills imitate islands. Frayed cables will slice hands and give horrifying slivers. Let them rest‚ embedded in the mud. I’m flood waters rising in the night‚ and rafts of firewood and old doors. These chains are too big to reach my hands around but their rust remains
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you. I wish I could be there; other than be literally beside you‚ I also want an escape and you know how Baguio ranks a special place in my heart. I don’t have a lot to say about your situtation because I really don’t know how to pick the right words though I know that you understand that‚ I still feel bad‚ of course. Some say that listening is the best one could offer‚ I just beg to disagree. Some day‚ maybe I’ll learn how to say something useful even if I don’t know what to say. I did cry
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Instructor Paper 1 January 10‚2013 I ’ve loved to read and write ever since I was taught my ABC ’s for the first time. It ’s been a huge part of my life in a lot of different aspects. I learned how to read when I was three years old because I went to a daycare where I was the youngest kid and the only one who couldn ’t read. Reading and writing just stuck with me after that. After I started reading better than my older daycare-mates‚ school was ready for me to conquer. The school put me with older kids
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Narrative essay Main character: genie Setting: swamp Plot: treasure is found There are four genies‚ which is Jinny‚ Winny‚ Tinny and Ninny‚ they are very good friend and they have living in a forest called The Peaceful Forest. They live in there almost 100 years‚ unfortunately they only can live 200 years‚ but they never feel sad about that and they live happily. One day‚ a devil has come to their place and tells them that there is a treasure inside the swamp which is behind the forest. He asks
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describes you? The artifact in my life that best describes me will be my thick red diary. I started to keep a diary when I was in Primary 6. I got the diary in a lucky draw which I think because of fate as I had never wanted to start a diary or planned to write one. When I got the diary‚ I had the sudden urge to start one because of the flowery-decorated cover with each pages scented. At first‚ I was quite confused on what to write in my diary so I just started with my personal details and wrote down
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Narrative Essay First Grade I didn’t realize my specialness at the time‚ even though I didn’t know much English the first day of school there. All the kids and teachers were nice to me and well-mannered with good intentions‚ but they could clearly see how I was an outsider‚ and how I was different from them. I remember that I went to the pool every weekend with my grandpa‚ and my parent’s started making me take piano lessons. Second Grade I was thrown into a completely new environment with
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Devin Greenlaw 3/2/13 2nd Period Love the Holiday (Billie Holiday Report) Born Eleanora Fagan on April 7‚ 1915 in Philadelphia‚ PA; the amazing jazz vocalist never imagined she was going to become one of the biggest jazz musicians of all time. Rose Primarily in Baltimore‚ MD with her mother‚ Sady Fagan‚ who gave birth to Billie at the age of nineteen. Billie was raised primarily with her mother. Her father‚ believed to be Clarence Holiday who was a successful jazz musician himself‚ wasn’t
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stops using it. From the passage‚ Elijah tries very hard to fight with his physical to discharge from the medicine‚ but it seems Elijah cannot make it. Being Elijah best friend‚ Xavier cannot help Elijah and Xavier has to see his only friend suffers a death pain‚ Xavier feels aching too. 3. “…There was no doubting that he was my relation. His nose was mine; his eyes carried the same sharpness. His ears stuck out from his head. I realized I was seeing you‚ Nephew‚ that you needed me as much as
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My memory of my how I became literate is and always will be a part of me that I will never forget. I suppose I heard the sounds around me and connected them with emotions. Crying‚ I noticed‚ got a quick response from my parents‚ and usually some food. My communication development was identical to every other child learning to talk. Listening. But everyone has a story behind their literacy. Mine was one day‚ when we were driving to the grocery store‚ with the radio turned on‚ my jam turned on. It
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August 28‚ 2008 English Narrative Essay My Unplanned Weekend It was a Thursday afternoon and I was patiently sitting in my chair at school talking to my friend Tanya about what we were going to do that weekend. I hear a voice say “Mr. Johnson can you send Lynn to the office for check out.” I was excited because this meant I did not have to go to math class. As I arrived at the office‚ I saw my sister she looked as if something was wrong. “Kimberly‚ what is wrong?” “I will tell
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