I saw her in front of the pantry. “Detective‚” Sadie said‚ while tugging on my jacket‚ “Look here‚ our mittens had fuzzies on them‚ and there’s some fuzzies just like it on the pantry door.” Sadie talked so softly compared to her siblings‚ but her senses were very sharp‚ she is one clever kitten. I opened the door‚ and right next to the pie ingredients was... the three little kittens lost mittens. The kittens all cheered and screamed‚ for they had found their mittens. Little did they know‚ not only
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Without hesitation‚ she picked up her own buckler as well and slid it on her arm before resting the shaft of her spear on one shoulder as she walked up to the arena‚ hearing the steel door slam shut behind her and lock. "Hailing from Gaul! Behold the barbarism and savagery of Iska!" The crowd booed as loudly as they could and many cried out chants of "Go back where you came from‚ animal!"‚ intensifying when the Gaul did not observe the
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I quickly jump out of the car‚ but i’m not quick enough. Just before the door slams my mom shouts “Be aggressive!”. I do a quick scan to make sure no one was in earshot while speed walking to the field in fear that she may roll down a window. This is my mom’s little catch phrase that she implants into my brain before every game‚ practice‚ or tryout. These are the words I play by. I don’t let the super tall girls knock me around‚ I don’t give up the ball easily and I never stop communication
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The fire escape saved Nikki’s life. Before falling off her aunt’s coffeehouse‚ she grabbed hold of the black railing and righted herself. Black smoke rolled out of the chimneys‚ doors‚ and windows. The explosion had left the place intact‚ but the initial blast was great enough to bounce her into midair. Who knew if more were on the way‚ or what had caused it in the first place. Nikki coughed as she heaved herself into the open hallway window. Unsteady on her feet‚ she groaned and rubbed her tired
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out to the door‚ Dad pulled me back. "Where do you think you’re going? Stop trying to disown us" he chuckled. Do your parents get on your nerves like mine do? So‚ I sat down again. "Why are we waiting?" "We’re waiting because we don’t want to get caught in the Cable car rush" Mum sighed. I sat down again and waited and waited. There was nothing interesting in the room‚ it all seemed hazy and cosy like my grandparents’ living room. I looked at the clock‚ it ticked quietly and softly spoke ten
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my story is starting: “Why there’s John at the Door” I am banging on the door‚ begging her to come out. What has happened? Why’s the door locked? Is she okay? What’s going on? Perhaps I can break the door. The sweat dripped into my eyes as I heard her say “John dear! The key is under the front steps‚ under a plaintain leaf!” My eyes dart to the leaf. Is she lying? Why would the key be there? I can’t make myself leave. I am begging her to open the door - almost screaming. She laughs. Laughs. I stop
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Imagine knocking on your neighbor’s door and then being brutally attacked by a dog half your size when the neighbor opens the door. People shouldn’t be allowed to own or keep dangerously aggressive dogs in suburban neighborhoods. There are a few reasons why there shouldn’t be aggressive dogs in a suburban neighborhood yard. I am going to argue against the ownership of deadly dogs in residential areas. I will talk about the cons of having this Dangerously aggressive dog. A dog’s bark is more
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the net‚ allowing my self to reset. We hit the ball back and forth for at least 3 minutes straight‚ a rare sight to see amongst tennis players. On his last hit‚ my opponent sliced the ball towards me and with every bit of agression left within me‚ I slam the ball. In all joyfulness‚ I celebrate an rejoice but this joyfulness is short lived. My oppenent tells me “it was just shy of in and was more out.” “What? That shot was clearly in‚ I could see it all the way from over here.” I said. “Nope‚ you were
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As John leaves in anger‚ Abigail runs to her room in temper and slams the door closed. She sits down at her dressing table and talks to herself in the mirror. She is angry. Were his desires for me to be without contempt? What am I meant to do? I love him. Am I not able to control the rules and rights that urge me to kill Elizabeth dwelt inside of me? I have the power. I want the glory of watchin that woman hang so I can dance with John on her grave. Havin her killed is rightful in my eyes. The
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Astronomer’s Wife Kay Boyle There is an evil moment on awakening when all things seem to pause. But for women‚ they only falter and may be set in action by a single move: a lifted hand and the pendulum will swing‚ or the voice raised and through every room the pulse takes up its beating. The astronomer’s wife felt the interval gaping and at once filled it to the brim. She fetched up her gentle voice and sent it warily down the stairs for coffee‚ swung her feet out upon the oval mat‚ and hailed
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