very few could manipulate it to their will. The man in this story is me‚ my name is Rayn and I write this story to chronicle my rise to power. My journey started when I was in my mid twenties and our country was at war with a neighboring kingdom. I was a guard for a small village which was ruled by the empire of Luton grod. One day while out on patrol a strange old man was making his way to our village. This is where our story begins. The
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so much fun today! Thank you mom and dad!” I screamed out‚ expecting to hear the usual‚ “you’re welcome‚” response‚ but concerned‚ I jumped off the wall to face the room. I saw what I would call a normal day at Wonderworks. The parents recording‚ children with smiles from ear to ear‚ and the exciting games and prizes‚ I was anticipating to achieve during the day. The more I looked‚ the more nervous I became. Suddenly‚ I came to the unsettling realization- I
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textbook‚ when you are finished turn it into my desk‚ and wait at your seat.” “Yes Mr. Housley‚” said the group of eager boys. As I went outside to await the other clutter of boys‚ the buildings began to start-up. “Welcome‚” I said to the other group of children. They greeted respectfully in the similar
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minutes reaffirmed their belief in his kindness and courage. And they are committed to making sure his life‚ and death‚ were not in vain. Jeff Crowther hopes his son’s story will inspire people to become a volunteer firefighter‚ to give money to the homeless every day like Welles did‚ to set goals and follow through. "If Welles’ story helps people to think of others then God bless them‚ God bless him‚" said his father. "He didn’t live long enough to be head of a corporation or do good works or endow
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The Nice People‚ by Henry Cuyler Bunner‚ is republished from his volume‚ Short Sixes‚ by permission of its publishers‚ Charles Scribner’s Sons. The Buller-Podington Compact‚ by Frank Richard Stockton‚ is from his volume‚ Afield and Afloat‚ and is republished by permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons. _Colonel Starbottle for the Plaintiff_‚ by Bret Harte‚ is from the collection of his stories entitled Openings in the Old Trail‚ and is republished by permission of the Houghton Mifflin
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"Yo‚ Wonwoo! Going to Dongho’s party tonight?" One of his friends yelled a few metres away from where he sat. The raven-haired male responded with a gesture before continuing to keep the papers he had sprawled on the cafe’s table‚ successfully completing an assignment before the next class. As he stood up‚ he was met with a couple of other people he knew‚ greeting him and asking to have lunch together the following day. "Sure. I think I’ll be free." Wonwoo replied and the three figures that
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Short Story Screaming in pain‚ Rebecca was about to give birth to her first baby. She was forced to have a homebirth as there were no hospitals around for miles. Her shrieks of pain had woken everyone in the neighbourhood‚ many came up to the house to get a glimpse of the situation. One of Rebecca’s friends‚ Rick‚ had rushed into the house in a matter of minutes after he heard the screaming. Rick stayed with Rebecca for several hours that followed to comfort her as best he could. His best attempts
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It was one of the more curious things about Humanity‚ our reluctance to allow others see us cry. It could be said that it was a form of defense‚ of never letting one know your weakness‚ and perhaps there was some truth to that. After all‚ hadn’t Humanity kept the Deadly Races at bay for a time by pretending to be strong? That day‚ however‚ Intrepidus was not able to hide his weakness by refusing to go home a mess. There was a shadow he had failed to realize did not have a place in this cavern any
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simply decrease. As a junior in high school‚ I’ve come to find that that assumption couldn’t be more false. High school came as a scare to me and I felt that I was the only one going through those typical teenage problems; however‚ after reading How Children Succeed: Grit‚ Curiosity‚ and the Hidden Power of Character‚ by Paul Tough‚ I began to gain some of my confidence back. I have always been a kid who has done well in school and been focused on excelling. School work is the number one priority in
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Avilio‚ being the serial pick pocket he is‚ manages to get the pair enough money to stay in a dinky inn on their way to the next town. The building is a sad sight‚ being nothing more than shabby wooden planks being held together by faith and strong glue. Nero is thoroughly convinced that if he sneezes hard enough‚ the building would collapse on its own. “We’d like to stay for a night. Two if possible.” An old lady with no teeth stands at the counter with a black cat on her shoulder. The cat hisses
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