Riots on the streets. Gas‚ blinding gas that brings tears to your eyes and makes you feel as if you are slowly suffocating. You attempt to stand defiant before the black clothed oppressors‚ but the gas is simply too overpowering. You cough and splutter‚ trying to remain upright in the surge of the crowd as the world spins slowly around you. Then the clash occurs. Bodies slam back‚ elbows pinching into ribs and legs braced in defiance against the ever approaching black soldiers. The shields come up
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it was a cold grey day in late September. The weather had metamorphosed overnight‚ when a backing wind brought a granite sky and a mizzling rain with it‚ and although it was now only two fifty-seven in the afternoon the ashen hue of a winter evening seemed to have closed upon the hills‚ cloaking them in mist. It would be dark by five o clock. The air was clammy cold‚ and for all the sealed windows it still penetrated the interior of the carriage. The leather seats felt damp to the hands‚ there must
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Absolutely nothing in this known world can break the silence—the room was lifeless. The floorboard painfully cries under the teacher’s fantastic high-heeled shoes; it invades the monastic stillness. Under the scrawls of a madman‚ written in a jet-black marker that has seen the end of its days a long time ago‚ slivers of the once pure whiteboard remains. My eyes dart towards the window as I stare at the barren tree branches; they shiver‚ afraid‚ in the thick cold and velvety air of winter. As my stoic
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toys with it playfully. The once clear sky is now full of thick cloud‚ staining the sky a deadly shade of indigo‚ forever darkening like a lid closing on a box trapping darkness inside it. The saturated clouds start to rumble. Below them‚ the streets are lifeless as no one dares leave their secure houses for the extreme weather outside. Thunder shakes the clouds‚ as its loud rumble echoes around the empty beach. The smell of the sea overpowers the old‚ lingering smell of chips and candyfloss‚
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Thus‚ comfortably seated with a pen on hand in the warm confines of my bed room‚ I started to pour down my thoughts into writing‚ quietly praying that he will be able to know‚ at least the extent of my emotions… Briefly written in a small parchment‚ I folded the paper into four and noticing how it started to our heavily outside‚ I pulled out my drawer and produced a red folded
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Teaching a Descriptive Writing Gender: Grade :5 Date:25.Nov.2013 Time:45 minutes General Goal(s): ◆ students will learn the elements of descriptive writing. ◆They will understand the parts of a descriptive paragraph ◆will be able to generate a descriptive paragraph. Teacher Instructions Objectives: ◆ Students will identify the elements of descriptive writing. ◆ Students will write to describe using all five senses. Outcomes: At the end of class student are expected to be able
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Describe the scene at a train station It is 8 o’clock in the morning at Liverpool train station‚ the busiest hour throughout the whole day‚ it’s also known as the rush hour. Trains of all imaginable colours gradually draw to a halt‚ causing a slightly burned smell from the brakes. As the automatic doors fly open‚ continuous flows start of people shoving and pushing‚ rushing to get off into the already crowded station. The noise of the tannoy is hidden beneath the murmur of the crowds of people
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I remember the events of 9/11 like they were yesterday. The enormous‚ burning building collapsing to the ashy ground‚ people desperate to stop the plane that was being flown at 600 miles per hour‚ the impact of when the plane collided with the building‚ the screams and cries for help‚ along with my fellow passengers calling their loved ones to say they’re not going to make it. Yes‚ I said my fellow passengers. My name Lauren Kriewitz‚ and I am a survivor of the treacherous 9/11 attack. My flight
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Imagine you just finished working your nine to five job and your boss is livid at you for not finishing your project by its deadline. You’re frustrated and want to get home. You stroll into the subway station and board the train en route to your house. You take a seat at the back of the train and just sit there with anguish on your mind. The train shuts its doors and the train starts moving forward. It’s a chilly winter evening and there’s a thunderstorm brewing outside. The wind is fierce‚ ricocheting
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There are places in the world that take your breath away and make you feel alive all at once. Big Bend National Park is one of these places. Despite what many people think‚ Big Bend has more to offer than just deserts‚ cacti‚ and zero wifi. It is filled with beautiful wildlife and splendid mountains. My aunt used to live and work there as a park ranger and seeing her so little during the year made our visits over Christmas break that much more meaningful. One of those times sticks out in my mind
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