Power One theme among five stories included in chapter eleven was the power struggle between characters‚ either within themselves or among other characters. Power is somewhat of an elusive concept in which it can take many forms. The characters within this chapter exhibit a wide spectrum of power including the power achieved through independence and feelings of empowerment‚ the corruption that may coincide in great power‚ or the illusion of power. In the first story‚ titled Sweat‚ the character
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Beowulf: Short Story In the beautiful town of Ventaria‚ which is located near the southern- most point of Ireland‚ a once proud colony of people enjoyed the magnificent surroundings and a simplistic life. Brian the Great‚ beloved ruler of the Ventarians‚ had been killed by the evil Filth-Sammich. This vile creature‚ with a crocodile-like build‚ had a head larger than the immense church in the center of the town. When fully-opened‚ the mouth of the Filth-Sammich could open wide enough to fit
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“I disagree with your interpretation of the main idea.” Kim said to Austin as they sat on the cement stair in Austin’s backyard and discussed about their short story analysis work from English class. It was just after rain‚ the sky was still filled with gray clouds‚ but at least the temperature had cooled down a little bit. Kim secretly felt bad for Austin‚ that now he was stuck with her for this “working buddies” thing in English. Why would someone stupidly arrived class late and became my deskmate
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Odysseus and his tired men land upon a barren island‚ surrounded by crystal waters. They anchored their ship and shuffled off‚ in weary silence. The island was only a raised chunk of smooth white rock‚ with an igloo shaped cave. “We have learned our lesson with Polyphemus‚ we must stay clear of that cave.” Shouted Odysseus. Some men agreed with him‚ but others muttered in disagreement. They group decided to settle down for the night‚ as they longed to sleep on solid land once again‚ even for just
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slavery today is awful because slaves should have human rights and not be told what to do. Charles Jacobs was a friend of Francis and wanted to help him free his people and help him find his family. He helps Francis get interviewed so he can tell his story to people all around the world. Charles identifies the racist people as them saying that there should be slaves in the world and that African Americans do not deserve to have human rights. What is scary is that some of the Sudan people threatened
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tallest to shortest‚Then jordan pops up and joins in . I see the black camera‚ as i hear Maggie´s mom say 123...say cheese as she clicks the black button.I knew that it was a bad picture of me but at least i smiled. My ear aching from the loud children screaming their heads off .My eyes have a shape when i close my eyes
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BELONGING STORY(2) Coughing violently‚ I passed the glass pipe along to the young man beside me‚ who took a long drag before handing it on the next in the circle. I could feel the foul-tasting smoke tear down my throat and withstood the urge to vomit. The entire room was overflowing with a fetid haze; it grated against the back of my throat as though it were sandpaper. I fought to maintain my composure and appearance of serenity‚ but if anyone looked close enough they would easily be able to distinguish
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In Control In my sophomore year of high school‚ I remember a particular speech I had to deliver in my English class. It was just like any other‚ honestly. But this one‚ this specific one‚ gave me the greatest trouble. My irrational fear of public speaking consumed me and turned me against myself. I remember the mindset that I had for most of my sophomore year: me vs. them. That was how high school was. It was every man for himself. But never would I have ever thought that I was my own biggest obstacle
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of Karlie’s heart as a cyclone erupted from her sparkling blue eyes. She knew nothing would ever be the same. More than seventy years had passed since the first nuclear weapon was dropped on Hiroshima. Two hundred thousand innocent men‚ women and children perished. Since then‚ the government conducts the disarmament of nuclear weapons every year. Everyone
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Short Story Scrutiny. Scepticism. Shock. It was all too familiar‚ the look on the faces in the room. An aboriginal female in a doctor’s coat. She glanced around the room as she sat down. The dullness of the grey walls seemed to absorb the lost hopes and dreams of the young men around her. The stale oxygen that lingered in the small room was slowly suffocating under the sterile smell of disinfectant. The only glimmer of light was a small corner of a window where the morning sun shimmered through
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