Scary Story “Come you have to see this!” screamed Doobie. “What is it?” asked Kavid. “I really don’t know. Never mind. Forget about it. Do you ever feel that something bad is about to happen to us?” “No not really.” The Island of Nesis had many mysterious things about it and on it. Nobody ever knew about it since it was far out in the ocean. On the island‚ a house stood. Some said that the doors had blood dripping off of it. Others told that the bathtub flowed with blood once. One person exclaimed
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One way that Eric Walters was able to confirm relationships are important to a person’s life was through the interaction between Jed and the injured eagle he found. Earlier in the story‚ Jed explains to the reader how much eagle’s mean to him and to his Tsimshian culture. “ An eagle is more than a bird‚ it’s part of our heritage and history” (Walters 47). So‚ naturally‚ when Jed noticed a bullet hole through its body‚ he felt the obligation to nurse it back to full health. During this time‚ Jed became
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routine. I was leading Mrs. Houston along nicely. We moved from the tarot readings – where Harold’s presence first manifested – to channeling sessions‚ where he showed up regularly. Google‚ Twitter‚ and Consta made it almost too easy. I knew plenty about Harold
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they sent this up to you.” He hands me the hot pad and the burning plate‚ which smells phenomenal. “And‚ I wanted to say that I like your new hair.” He pulls a fork and spoon wrapped in a napkin out of his pocket and hands the bundle to me. He’s about to leave when I ask him‚ “Could you bring me up something to drink?”
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Oh yeah‚ there’s just something about singing with a huge chorus‚ you know? I’ve been very fortunate to be in things like The Producers‚ The Drowsy Chaperone‚ Urinetown--quite a number of stuff‚ I guess. It’s just great to be on stage singing with a bunch of other people. I’ve not had the opportunity to actually be in a musical‚ but I was a music teacher‚ and I have gotten to direct musicals‚ and be the choreographer‚ and teach the music. Oh my gosh‚ you’re never sleeping. Definitely a tough gig
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sassy tone showing no sympathy for her mother’s hurt expression “And how does that make it my fault he won’t show.”the mother said placing her hands on her hips “I don’t have time for this.” Grace mutters burying her face in her hands “Well what about the sochi‚” her mother says raising an eyebrow “That was his job and it was a trad-” grace cut her mother off by sitting up and clenching her fist “I know just wait he will be here” Grace says with a angry expression starring her mother down “Keep
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dark skinned male‚ 5’9 with a spiked crew cut with crimson colored eyes. He was being accompanied by his friends Tocino and Epsilon who were planning to steal some food from a local food joint. Tocino was a short werepig standing around 3’11‚ bubblegum pink skin‚ small tusks and wore black shorts with grass stains and a black headband. Epsilon was a slightly tan male standing at 5’8 with brown dreads and green eyes. He wore a shamrock green
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The opportunity was an open door to human trafficking and a closed one to any reality she had before entering this world. Angela’s story may be as tragic as it gets‚ but it’s more than that. Her constitutional right was ripped away from her hands when she was forced to work for a family that neglected her basic needs for living. Many people couldn’t imagine a world that does not implement
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Winchell nervously looks at the clock on the wall‚ which is directly in front of him‚ peers through the glass panel at his left into the engineer´s booth‚ and then glances around the room. It is thirty seconds to nine. A studio visitor‚ seated in one of the four chairs alongside the wall‚ coughs‚ and Winchell looks up anxiously‚ He reaches for the water pitcher‚ fills a paper cup‚ and takes a quick swallow. The buzzer sounds on the keyboard in front of the announcer as the engineer signals fifteen
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Everything began on that gloomy Sunday afternoon. I remember all the little details about that day like it was yesterday. I was late to my part-time job at The Alienator‚ a small‚ alien themed fast food joint on the corner of 2nd and Main Street. With coffee stains on my shirt‚ my hair a ruffled mess and my shoes on the wrong feet‚ I sprinted down the sidewalk‚ rushing to work. Breathing heavily‚ I was so focused on dodging and slipping past people‚ that I didn’t realize what was happening to my
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