eyes were focused on the speakers and the movement of their mouth‚ the jittering of their nervous fingers‚ the tapping of their anxious feet‚ but my mind wandered into the abyss. How was my speech? Did Ms. Bennett like it? What did my friends think about it? Was it at least as good as the
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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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Short Story Scrutiny. Scepticism. Shock. It was all too familiar‚ the look on the faces in the room. An aboriginal female in a doctor’s coat. She glanced around the room as she sat down. The dullness of the grey walls seemed to absorb the lost hopes and dreams of the young men around her. The stale oxygen that lingered in the small room was slowly suffocating under the sterile smell of disinfectant. The only glimmer of light was a small corner of a window where the morning sun shimmered through
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very few could manipulate it to their will. The man in this story is me‚ my name is Rayn and I write this story to chronicle my rise to power. My journey started when I was in my mid twenties and our country was at war with a neighboring kingdom. I was a guard for a small village which was ruled by the empire of Luton grod. One day while out on patrol a strange old man was making his way to our village. This is where our story begins. The
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They began to glow‚ intensifying until they became fiery red staring into her eyes and soul. She breathes in the fragrance of incense and that of the cauldron’s brew‚ most pleasurable among fragrances her mate’s blood covering her body in its most natural state. She brought it to her moist‚ soft lips‚ kissed it. She began rubbing it between her breasts. Her body made love one last time to the one taken from her for forever. While she did‚ the shaman prepared the shrunken skin. Warrior’s facial skin
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Short Story Screaming in pain‚ Rebecca was about to give birth to her first baby. She was forced to have a homebirth as there were no hospitals around for miles. Her shrieks of pain had woken everyone in the neighbourhood‚ many came up to the house to get a glimpse of the situation. One of Rebecca’s friends‚ Rick‚ had rushed into the house in a matter of minutes after he heard the screaming. Rick stayed with Rebecca for several hours that followed to comfort her as best he could. His best attempts
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J. Acad. Indus. Res. Vol. 1(2) July 2012 59 ISSN: 2278-5213 REVIEW Natural disasters in India with special reference to Tamil Nadu A. Stephen Dept. of Ecology‚ French Institute of Pondicherry‚ Puducherry-605001‚ India stephanos.crown@gmail.com; +91 9841890069 ____________________________________________________________________________________________ Abstract Natural disasters in India‚ many of them related to the climate of India‚ cause massive losses of Indian life and property.
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It was one of the more curious things about Humanity‚ our reluctance to allow others see us cry. It could be said that it was a form of defense‚ of never letting one know your weakness‚ and perhaps there was some truth to that. After all‚ hadn’t Humanity kept the Deadly Races at bay for a time by pretending to be strong? That day‚ however‚ Intrepidus was not able to hide his weakness by refusing to go home a mess. There was a shadow he had failed to realize did not have a place in this cavern any
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"Yo‚ Wonwoo! Going to Dongho’s party tonight?" One of his friends yelled a few metres away from where he sat. The raven-haired male responded with a gesture before continuing to keep the papers he had sprawled on the cafe’s table‚ successfully completing an assignment before the next class. As he stood up‚ he was met with a couple of other people he knew‚ greeting him and asking to have lunch together the following day. "Sure. I think I’ll be free." Wonwoo replied and the three figures that
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English 010 The Bicycle Page 32 SightLines 10 1. In what point of view is the story told? First person narrative. Why is it effective? The point of view is effective because the reader is able to follow Hannah’s thought patterns and temptations as she grows up. We feel closer to the protagonist because we come to know her thoughts quite intimately. 2. What are the names of the composers that Hannah studies? Chopin‚ Bach‚ Mozart‚ Beethoven
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