requirements for her class. “Monologues will be due Monday morning.” I heard Ms. White say. My nerves could not catch a break. After class‚ I went home and wrote my monologue. I did not want to present my monologue to the class. I was shy and knew no one in my class. I told myself repeatedly that I could do it. Monday morning was here before I knew it. The feeling of dread filled me‚ and I wanted to back out‚ receive my zero with pride. When I arrived at school‚ my monologue clutched firmly in my hand
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saluting enthusiastically to their red-robed leaders under the yellow star; the boat crammed with coughing throats and calloused hands; blood washed away by the rains. She talked about things I had only ever heard about from the kind of tragic monologues that hot-shot actors won Oscars for and only shed real tears for at the podium. But unlike the performers’ melodramatic shouts of magniloquent misdirected emotion and the onion tears I associated with this kind of language‚ she seemed perfectly
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“Toadstools‚ and butterscotch!? What a horrid combination! Why on earth would anyone wish to consume that together?” I flung down the folded (crumpled) letter. The first letter I received from my dearest friend Leonora in months‚ and she talked about how she and her mentor made a new potion with toadstool and butterscotch. Disgusting. “What are ye huffin’ about now‚ child?” My short‚ round mentor shuffled past me with her arms full of some large birds that twitched unnaturally. She was the kind
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Dramatic Intro Flashing lights were blinding my vision‚ and emergency sirens were screaming in my ears‚ both making it hard to process the situation I was in. I looked around praying to find something familiar that could possibly give me guess as to what was happening‚ but was interrupted by sharp creaking of a metal door‚ which robbed my attention. I looked towards the direction the sound was coming from and was shocked to see the face of a man‚ I tried moving but couldn’t. Confused I asked him
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Paige was born in March 2005. She really enjoys writing‚ reading‚ and painting. Paige loves unicorns and the colour pink. She also loves to play the ukulele. I froze‚ my mouth as dry as a desert. What was I supposed to do? Eight hundred eyes were looking at me! This all started when I received a special gift from my grandma‚ who’d recently passed away. "I’m sorry about your loss‚" stated Sophia. "It’s okay‚ thanks for your concern‚" I sighed. "At least she gave you something to remember her by
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I don’t want to take in much details about what they looked like. The sound of the door opening caused my eyes to snap in the direction of the door. The group of people who I encountered just a short time ago along with a female doctor "Sir‚ the students have arrived really!" A sharp pinching feeling in my arm was the last thing‚ I felt before my world where dark for the millionth time in my
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The glazed tiles reflected on my tired eyes not allowing to be opened. I slowly started blinking‚ harmfully blinking my eyes to see where I am. I scrunched my eyes at the bright shining light of the operation theatre. Imagining what all I had gone through in the past hours‚ I felt relieved. Thanking god to keep me alive‚ and letting me save the lives of those innocent people who have suffered so much. The nurse approached me and inquired about my health. It was more of a routine‚ and I was dragging
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As I walked into the barbers for my weekly shave I notice the barber sharpening his razors. The colour drains from his face‚ and though I can not see it‚ I know he’s trembling. I almost laugh‚ it’s like he wants to be caught. I begin to remove my belt‚ as it holds my gun and my cartridges‚ the weapon that killed his allies‚ and notice him eyeing it nervously. I stop myself from smiling as I hang it onto the hook in the wardrobe and rest my hat on top. As usual‚ I hung up my bullet studded belt‚
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PROLOGUE PROLOGUE Only fools became starfighter pilots‚ and my mother was one of them. It is dumb to put yourself at so much risk‚ because you may end up as a flaming fireball through space. Like my mother. You would never know if the Sinats would attack‚ or ambush‚ or raid. My point is‚ piloting a starfighter is very‚ very dangerous. And of course‚ my mother happened to be one of them; a flying‚ dangerous maniac. By my fathers definition‚ she was extra stupid‚ but I always thought that flying a
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THE DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE IN TENNYSON’S ULYSSES The greatest Victorian contribution to poetry is certainly the form of the dramatic monologue. A dramatic monologue is defined by various critics as a type of poem in which a single speaker‚ a persona‚ “utters the speech that makes up the whole of the poem‚ in a specific situation at a critical moment.” This speaker addresses and interacts with one or more other people. They are silent but usually identifiable listeners in whose presence the speaker reveals
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