The Little Mule that Could “Clip‚ clop‚ clip‚ clop‚ such a reassuring sound”‚ Jenny thought as she pulled the plow through Mr. Dawkins’ fields. Jenny could feel the soil beneath her hooves‚ and the steady beat of her lively heart. Behind her was Dave‚ the small black boy‚ who was tasked to lead Jenny through the fields. But she already knew the way; she had done it‚ day in and day out‚ for as long as she could remember. From the time she was a little mule‚ she remembered her parents had done this
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STORY OF MAYKAPAL In the beginning‚ the sky was very low; it was possible to touch it with a long bamboo pole. Because of this proximity‚ everything on earth was burnt by the intense heat of the sun. The rivers and the seas were boiling tremendously. Then suddenly from nowhere‚ a huge man appeared on earth. This enormous being was called Maykapal. Some of the ancient Tagalogs‚ said that Maykapal was the Lord of the universe who came down to earth to correct some mistakes in his work. However
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When He Came Back Sasha Boswell He had spent my whole life avoiding me‚ leaving my mother and I to look after ourselves‚ no help‚ no calls‚ no child support‚ not even one single letter just to say hi. The day he called was when my world had changed. I would finally meet him‚ the man from the small photo propped up against the brick wall above the fireplace. My curtains were wide open and the sunlight filtered in‚ creating little dust beams as mum liked to call them. The big oak tree by my window
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“FIRST LOVE ” Every Christmas‚ together with Nancy’s Family they travel for a Family reunion. Then one Christmas they went to her Uncle’s resort in Negara‚ Nancy is never excited‚ and this time is no different. They travel for almost 8 hours from their place to her Uncle’s Resort. It is 12nn when they arrived and everybody is so excited to meet their relatives except for Nancy who are on the other side. Nancy was walking in the seashore when she sees lots of familiar faces. It is her cousin
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A Lost Hope The lights appeared out of the darkness. I heard a soft voice talking to me as my eyes slowly opened and everything was blurred. My eyes adjusted I found I wasn’t at home in my own comfy bed but a horrible hospital trolley. My mom was sitting on a chair beside me her hand in mine and her eyes filled with tears I could tell she had been crying. It had happened again I thought to myself‚ I had collapsed for no reason. My mom explained to me why this was happening and a sharp pain shot
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It was six a.m.‚ and the buzzing of the alarm clock was all that could be heard throughout my room. It was time for me to wake up and prepare myself for school. I slowly dragged my feet across the floor towards the dresser‚ dreading what Soph‚ Liv‚ and Lex had planned for me that day. Were they going to make fun of my clothes‚ “accidentally” spill food in my hair‚ or even worse‚ make fun of me not having a dad anymore… again? Losing him four years ago when I was ten was bad enough for me‚ but the
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The Clod and the Pebble "Love seeketh not itself to please‚ Nor for itself hath any care‚ But for another gives its ease‚ And builds a heaven in hell’s despair." So sung a little Clod of Clay‚ Trodden with the cattle’s feet‚ But a Pebble of the brook Warbled out these metres meet: "Love seeketh only Self to please‚ To bind another to its delight‚ Joys in another’s loss of ease‚ And builds a hell in heaven’s despite." Corrupted By The Sun I saw her. In a miniscule moment. Her
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Alyvia Daly English lll October 18‚ 2013 Period 5 The Twins Liv was sitting in a chair staring at an aged iron gate with the words of the asylum’s name “Forquer Asylum” embedded in the iron work. She seemed to be staring at something else though‚ something only she could see. You could tell she was in deep thought and whatever it was trouble her greatly just by the way her face was scrunched up like if she was mad. “Liv…” called Dr. Grey. Liv turned not realizing Dr. Grey had been
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Short story is fictional work of prose that is shorter in length than a novel. Edgar Allan Poe‚ in his essay "The Philosophy of Composition‚" said that a short story should be read in one sitting‚ anywhere from a half hour to two hours. In contemporary fiction‚ a short story can range from 1‚000 to 20‚000 words. Because of the shorter length‚ a short story usually focuses on one plot‚ one main character (with a few additional minor characters)‚ and one central theme‚ whereas a novel can tackle multiple
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A Stylistic Analysis on the Nightingale and the Rose Abstract Oscar Wilde’s The Nightingale and the Rose‚ similar to other Oscar Wilde’s short stories‚ is written in an aesthetic voice. Throughout the story‚ Oscar Wilde employs various stylistic devices for the expression of aesthetic concept. In order to show how Oscar Wilde engross readers in this incredible story through stylistics analysis‚ this paper firstly presents an overview of stylistics based on the textbook English Stylistics
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