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 Texas because one of my younger sisters got very sick. The first five years outside of Matamoros were miserable for me because I didn’t speak an ounce of English which left me feeling so
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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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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 and camping. Letting her mind wander as she pealed potatoes. She looked beside her at the young boy sitting at the dining room table coloring
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but the boys were at fault for their immaturity‚ without considering how it could affect the Duvitches. “We held a brief whispering conversation; and then‚ egged on by him and quite willing on my own‚ I played a shameful trick on the Duvitches‚ the memory of which will come back to the end of my days to plague. Without considering further‚ I dropped the cake of soap into the tub of fish.” Because of this‚ their father was at outrage. When the Duvitches came to the town‚ they were known as the poor
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Blizzards roar like vicious troops hungry for battle. The gale-force wind screeches like a crow. Before long‚ the angry‚ unrelenting waves crash into the frozen coast as loud as a mountain tumbling to the ground. Lightning flashes across the sky causing a sound similar to an old‚ sturdy chestnut tree being ripped. An avalanche of hailstones clatters down from the sky like marbles spilt from a box. Deafening whips of ice skid across the frozen floor and eliminate any small careless creatures. Tornados
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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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chose you to do it‚ and you’ll know someday‚ the point of this voyage. Others might could not know the message for few weeks‚ months‚ years‚ or maybe decade. And there is no rush to do it.” they said. “But how could…” I said “There is some part of memory that doesn’t really need for the message‚ thus we need to remove it.” they said “What do you mean? I don’t really getting all these.” I said “Don’t need to‚ from now on‚ it is our job‚ your role is all over. It wouldn’t be so nice to wake up with
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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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for whatever reason‚ she chose to ignore it‚ scribbling something onto her clipboard again. “And‚ what could you bring to our company‚ Candidate 217?” Mother had told him exactly how to answer a question like this‚ and he had listened well. His memory had stored every word she’d uttered. ‘IN CORP’ was very clear about one thing‚ and that was that
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connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon‚ this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance. It is an honor to stand before you and share my precious memories of Jerica. She will be missed by all‚ but her memory will live on in us all forever. Jerica‚ thank you for everything you’ve given us – and the warmth we shared during your treasurable time on earth. We especially give thanks to God for the life of a woman I am so pleased
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