"Short story clothes by chitra banerjee divakaruni" Essays and Research Papers

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    Debris: A Short Story

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    Flames were raging behind Karlie‚ engulfing anything and everything in its way. All that she could feel was the scorching heat and all she could smell was the smoke. Debris blinded Karlie as she tried to escape the horror creeping up behind her. It seemed like fear had caused her to forget that she had just lost everything; her home‚ her parents and her friends. A dagger pierced the layers of Karlie’s heart as a cyclone erupted from her sparkling blue eyes. She knew nothing would ever be the same

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    Haito: A Short Story

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    amazing wonders. Greater than even the Crimson Knights power itself I’m sure." He looked at me and then smiled. "That’s true‚ there has to be something bigger. Bigger‚ than the Crimson Knight. I’ve thought about it since Father started telling us the stories‚" He took a deep breath‚ "But enough of that‚ let’s go meet up with the others shall we?" We walked to the social area. We seen everyone talking‚ so we causally walked up to them. "Tai! You killed it out there‚ that upwards strike really caught him

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    Hate: A Short Story

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    it controls your actions. Hate ruins your life. It makes you do things you would not otherwise do. It obliterates your happiness‚ and any light you could see. Hate is an awful thing for someone to meet and I wish I never had. I want to tell you the story of how I met hate‚ and how I somehow managed to power through it. It all started a long time ago‚ when I was about six or seven. I lived in North Carolina‚ and I would come visit my family here‚ in South Carolina. I was young‚ so of course‚ I did not

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    A bulky‚ middle-aged man stared at the roughly cut and oddly shaped stone in his hands‚ his brows furrowed deeply in anger. His eyes then shifted from the trashy stone onto the youth standing next to him. The youth appeared to be no older than fifteen and had ragged features of an adult‚ contrasting the slender and almost underfed body. The boy had black eyes and hair and was currently puffing his bony chest out in pride. “Trash!!” the middle-aged man exclaimed suddenly as he threw the stone against

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    Wojak: A Short Story

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    Have you ever lived the life of a spoiled rich kid? A kid who can get anything he needs or wants at a simple snap of a finger? Taylor grew up a rich kid‚ and is still living the lavish life. Although Taylor can have any exquisite thing he wants‚ he is still having trouble another friend. Don’t get Taylor wrong‚ he does have one friend by the name of Wojak. Wojak is the person Taylor goes to‚ to not feel unaccompanied. Taylor and Wojak’s lives are extremely similar. They both attend the most prestigious

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    Mute: A Short Story

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    Mute “Deeeeeeeep” The heart minder screamed letting me know that cancer was winning “DOCTOR” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I took one last gazes into my sister’s eyes as the nurse pushed me out the room and all I witness was defeat and surrender. “ Myasia I’m sorry‚ I love you” she battled to pronounce. “ Taj don’t talk like that‚ I’m not letting you go… I can’t” I replied bursting into tears and pushing through the nurse into my sister’s arms . “Myasia listen‚ y-you can never t-talk…”

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    The night sky was clouded with a tired haze‚ sending the city into an emotional collapse of anything exciting. Even the typically wild taxi services buzzed with boredom‚ and the street lights sent any bystanders into a mental slumber. With bland weather‚ came bland people‚ who had many things to accomplish while the rest of the city folk were caught in the whirlwind of disinterest. Genevíve Luther was one of those bland people‚ and she indeed had many things to accomplish that evening. Though‚ those

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    Gwytheyrn: A Short Story

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    Clang! A mountain of falling goblets and dirty silver platters pierces my ear drums and I instantly wake. As the pungent odor of boar wafts through the air and my eye catches a beam of the mid-morning sun‚ I realize that I failed to return from the mead hall. That could prove to be a costly mistake. “This isn’t an inn‚ Cathasach‚” said Judoc‚ my friend‚ the hall’s keeper and‚ fortunately‚ Amoorhi’s finest chef. “Have clemency‚ brother! I am still weary from last evening’s battle against the

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    The Warrior: A Short Story

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    Though scorching‚ her hands did not react‚ the skull of her mate‚ her lover‚ her friend in life. His hand reached into the wicker basket removed two large red stones‚ placed a stone in each of the skull’s eye sockets. 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

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    Divided: A Short Story

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    David: Welcome Thomas‚ we are very glad you came. Thomas: Thanks! I am happy to be here. David: We invited you here to ask you questions about your last several weeks during the trials. These trials must had been very hard on you and your friends. Thomas: Yes‚ those weeks were the hardest times of my life‚ and the only ones I can remember. David: Why is that? Thomas: When WICKED first gathered all of their test subjects‚ they erased most of our memories. We could remember the names of objects

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