STORY 1: “The Lamp at Noon” by Sinclair Ross The story “The Lamp at Noon” takes place in a dried up‚ unfertile desert. Dust storms are causing health problems for the family. The setting is crucial to create the dark and sad atmosphere of the story because it was all about the fact that there is something wrong with the place that it dried out their farm which caused them to suffer. Which also creates a mood of being dull‚ lonely and monotonous. The couple‚ Ellen and Paul‚ has been arguing about
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him and prays that whenever the time comes‚ that she will be the first to go because she is weak and he is strong. Summary of “Little Red Riding Hood” This short story is the classic tale of a little girl in a red cloak going to take her ill grandmother some baked goods. This is the first known publication of Charles Perrault’s story. Little Red Riding Hood was loved by her mother and even more so by her grandmother‚ who made her a red hooded cloak to wear out and about. The little girl was on
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Klingova‚ Milena 10/3 02/04/13 SHORT STORY Final Draft She was walking home after a big trigonometry test‚ which in her head had not gone well at all‚ even though she had spent hours and hours‚ preparing for it. When I think about it‚ her thoughts cannot be entirely trusted‚ as she was highly competitive and ambitious‚ and even though she was only 16‚ she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Who was she though? Her name was
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talking to me as my eyes slowly opened and everything was blurred. My eyes adjusted I found I wasn’t at home in my own comfy bed but a horrible hospital trolley. My mom was sitting on a chair beside me her hand in mine and her eyes filled with tears I could tell she had been crying. It had happened again I thought to myself‚ I had collapsed for no reason. My mom explained to me why this was happening and a sharp pain shot through my body to my heart...I had cancer. They had found a lump on my leg and done
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Although‚ a cliché‚ my nana’s passing was something that changed my life. But Mary Doherty was not a cliché. Not to say that the pain people go through during a grandparent’s death doesn’t hurt‚ but I believe that my nana leaving‚ particularly what she left me‚ has and will continually effect me as a person for the rest of my life. There’s no other way to describe my Nana other than this simple statement; her liveliness would light up a dark room if it could. She embraced the positive‚ which is
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The thought of this woman still trapped in my mind. That night was the most difficult‚ as I did not get a wink of sleep‚ but how could I? After seeing such a beautiful woman‚ what man would be able to resist such a temptation? I wanted to see her again; I needed to see her again. I had to know she was real. I had to know that I was not crazy‚ and that perfection did exist‚ as I had just witnessed it in her. I lay on my bed‚ watching the sunrise through my window. I rose‚ and wandered off to a nearby
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Yashu Vuruputoor Ms. Keys English 10 Period 3 6 September 2011 Inside My Room Great‚ I got practically down-graded! I thought as I crumpled my clothes savagely and flung them into a cardboard box. I was packing to move into my closet-size new bedroom on the other side of the house. My grandparents would be partying in my actual room for months. I had pictured my fantasy bedroom a million times before… A large bay window peeked into the fresh lawn outside and right in the middle of it sat an
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My telephone rang and a shiver went down my spine. I knew who was calling and why they were calling. I slowly walked towards the phone‚ trying to walk slowly enough so by the time I get there the caller would hang up. But soon enough I founded myself next to the phone‚ because the room didn’t go on for ever. My hand reached out to grab the ringing phone and putted it next to my ear. I heard someone speaking to me through the phone and he said ‘hello’. I quickly answered him back with a shaky voice
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"...the pain of saying goodbye and moving on." Write a short story inspired by the above phrase. Bright lights. Clean walls. Clean floors. Pale uniforms. People rushing back and forth through the corridors. That nauseating smell that lingers in your nostrils for hours after you leave. Blood slipped down the left side of his face‚ dripping off his chin‚ slowly forming a tiny puddle between his legs. His hair was a mess‚ his clothes soaked - ragged in places where the medics had cut them to check
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I hate my life! Why the heck did my family ever agree to take this terrible voyage. It has been months and every day gets worse than the last. I am sitting in this dark‚ damp corner of our ship and my arms are itching like crazy! They have become so raw that they are starting to bleed. The blood is dripping down my left arm and onto my leg and won’t stop. I thought it was just eczema because of the little dots starting to sprout on my arms‚ but they have been getting bigger. They turn a reddish and
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