Slice Pank Redivider One story Tishman-other Carve Forge Townie Derrick wakes up. The hangover clings to his skull‚ his heart‚ which seems like it’s barely working this morning as he rolls off of Tim’s couch and searches wildly around the living room for that glass of water he could have sworn he filled‚ set beside his sleeping place for when he woke up. This common‚ quick sense‚ even when he’s shitfaced‚ kicks in sometimes and he almost feels good about himself. But if he doesn’t quench that
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He has a longer sword than me‚ more reach. Looks too heavy for his own good. I try to be quick about getting close‚ but he caught on. He swings his sword at my hilt but I jump back in time. It amazes me how his small figure can swing that sword so fast. "You’re quick‚ I’ve fought people like you be-" I interrupt his trash talk by swinging at his sword. I keep partying his place away‚ trying to make him lose his balance. He manages to block every hit‚ but after blocking the last one I gave out his
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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‚ our names‚ but nothing before we entered the
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beginning to fall‚ a light dust covered the roof of the car that sat on the side street. She had hoped that today it would snow‚ it was surely a good day to wish for it. Thanksgiving only comes once a year‚ and this year she had so many things to be thankful for. It had been a nail biting year at times‚ but it was time to start making new memories‚ fresh memories‚ ones that would last for a lifetime. Smiling‚ Kelli daydreamed about what those memories might look like‚ baseball games‚ track meets‚ hiking
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He’d never felt so alive. The dance studio that he’d spent most of his time in as a wide eyed five year old in his first pair of tap shoes was akin to his home. In fact‚ it felt more like home than his actual home‚ where his dad often teased him about his ’prancing around the stage like a bloody pony’ but he knew that his dad preferred him doing this - his passion - than on the streets at ten o’clock at night smoking glue or sniffing weed. He’d never try those. For one‚ his mother would probably
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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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watching tv‚ bored as ever ‚ until my mom came downstairs and announced that she was going to the store. I said “ok I’ll see ya later”‚ and my mom left. A couple of hours had passed‚ when my mom asked me if I could help her with the “bags”. So I went. Once I got outside‚ to my surprise‚ a tiny‚
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The Old Time Story The author Old Story Time‚ Trevor Rhone uses strategies for his readers to understand his play. The following will be considered in this essay: How the writer enables the readers to understand the culture of the play/Caribbean people‚ How mama’s view of black people in the play and how does racism affect the life of two characters. In this play there are a lot of culture the writer makes us understand about the Caribbean. Such as the game ’touch’ that was played by peal and
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future. Now all there had been was shattered‚ like a mirror on the very eve of Halloween. Living in the shell of innocence‚ cocooned around‚ had led me to think‚ that Aunt Adeline‚ had been telling the truth. She dwelled upon‚ that all the worlds’ evil was tarnished by the essence of time…
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living in Tucson‚ Arizona‚ claiming to have once lived in Guatemala. The fellow who wrote the letter had mentioned that his name was Estevan. Estevan wrote that he and his wife‚ Esperanza‚ had been searching for their daughter for a long time. Estevan was an English teacher who lived in Guatemala with his wife and child‚ up until fifteen years ago. The reason for the sudden move was far harsher than Aurora would’ve liked. The letter continues with the story of how the government had persecuted their
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