An unforgettable memory which I forgot about!! (a narrative type of story) DING DONG rang the bell. My dad came back from work tired but excited; I guess he had something in his mind. My dad told us that he was going for a business trip to Dubai but had only three tickets!! I was extremely disappointed because I knew since I was the elder brother; I had to let Max and mom go with dad. Inevitably my dad told me that I had to stay back. I started arguing with dad but I knew I had no chance because
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Personal Narrative The fourth quarter had arrived and all the pressure was suddenly nudging against our team and Cadillac. The score was even‚ 65 to 65‚ as the starting five for the quarter huddled around Coach Dubie. Everybody‚ including me‚ were exhausted from a long‚ exasperating battle. “ Alright boys‚ let’s win this thing‚” coach commented firmly. Then‚ we stepped onto the court ready for war. I matched up with my opponent‚ who was considerably larger than I and intimidating to most‚ but that
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000 that get injured yearly? There are many ways to prevent these accidents. The first is to just simply not do it! According to a Nationwide Insurance study in 2008‚ 66% of drivers between the age of 18 and 24 send or receive text messages while behind the wheel. Text messaging while driving leads the list as the biggest distraction while driving. National Highway Traffic Safety Administration reports that distracted drivers account for almost 80% of all crashes and 65% of near-crashes in the
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Theme and Narrative Elements of a Short Story Racheal Cearney ENG 125: Introduction to Literature William Smith 6/17/2011 The short story I choose to write about is in chapter 7 ‘’Little Red Riding Hood’’ The story revolves is based on a girl named Little Red Riding Hood‚ after her mom had made her a little red hooded or cape the village people had start calling her that. In the story little red mom had ask her to go over her grandma house to check up on her. Little Red walks
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ENG 101 JIMMY BELTRAN SEC E130 3/19/13 Narrative Descriptive-Essay #2 This is a story about the most important decision that I have ever taken in my entire life. I received Jesus in my heart as my Lord and Savior. He is my Redeemer. I did not have a very fortunate upbringing even though my mother had some money to provide for my
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could do this? Maybe I should just keep it this length. Many people have told me that short hair doesn’t fit round faced girls. Maybe they were right. I snapped out of my thoughts when I saw an older lady appear behind my chair. “Hello‚ I guess I’ll be doing your hair. The other girls don’t have as much experience with short hair‚” she paused and examined me‚ “at least not with girls. Girls usually don’t have short hair‚ you know.” There it is. The comment I’ve been waiting for. It was only a matter
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Auron stood away from the altar. He could only watch his two companions approach it in abject silence. He’d noticed Davon’s change gradually as they made their way back from Morvac. He was emotionless‚ lending only blank‚ uncaring stares as they traversed the wooded areas to the spire. Matthiu was more beside himself. The unending call for the dagger - the way he described it - was the insatiable need told through far-off whispers that slipped like bells tolling. He could see that it had taken
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snowboarding. It had been just after lunch and he thought he would try some new terrain. He laced up his snowshoes‚ and proceeded to climb to the highest point of the mountain. He arrived at his first destination after about an hour of hiking. After a short while he figured he had looked over his new found haven enough‚ he was ready. He started down the grade with a small arsenal‚ consisting of a shovel‚ about ten granola bars‚ two bottles of power-ade‚ his snowshoes‚ and what was left in his hydration
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Cora Hart- Narrative Short Story- Working Draft There. Right over there. At locker number three hundred sixty eight. The new kid‚ awkwardly fidgeting with the dial. When the locker stubbornly refused to open‚ she gave an exasperated sigh and pulled a small slip of paper out of her mud-stained jeans. She squinted at it for a moment‚ then once again attempted the endeavor of opening the locker. This time‚ it swung open with a victorious click‚ and she crammed her bag‚ bursting at the seams with who
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