Sister Bam! Bang! Bam! Bang! Rona’s annoying little sister‚ Marly‚ was banging the old rusty pots and pans together. Rona had never been very fond of her little sister. Rona had always been the perfect child; however‚ Marly was not the perfect child. If you wanted to take Marly to the library‚ she would simply say‚ “No.” Or‚ if you wanted to take her for a walk‚ she would just turn around and stomp away. One time‚ the whole family was going out for supper. When they arrived at the fancy restaurant
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The night sky was clouded with a tired haze‚ sending the city into an emotional collapse of anything exciting. Even the typically wild taxi services buzzed with boredom‚ and the street lights sent any bystanders into a mental slumber. With bland weather‚ came bland people‚ who had many things to accomplish while the rest of the city folk were caught in the whirlwind of disinterest. Genevíve Luther was one of those bland people‚ and she indeed had many things to accomplish that evening. Though‚ those
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3 Review of Mark Twain’s “How to Tell A Story”: The American humorous story In “How to Tell a Story” by Mark Twain‚ he attempts to explain how one should tell a “humorous” or funny story. He also goes on about the how an American humorous story differs from a European comic or witty story. Twain explains that when one tells a humorous story‚ the manner in which the story is told is much more important then the actual content. The humorous story is told gravely and the teller does their best to
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Though scorching‚ her hands did not react‚ the skull of her mate‚ her lover‚ her friend in life. His hand reached into the wicker basket removed two large red stones‚ placed a stone in each of the skull’s eye sockets. They began to glow‚ intensifying until they became fiery red staring into her eyes and soul. She breathes in the fragrance of incense and that of the cauldron’s brew‚ most pleasurable among fragrances her mate’s blood covering her body in its most natural state. She brought it to her
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Clang! A mountain of falling goblets and dirty silver platters pierces my ear drums and I instantly wake. As the pungent odor of boar wafts through the air and my eye catches a beam of the mid-morning sun‚ I realize that I failed to return from the mead hall. That could prove to be a costly mistake. “This isn’t an inn‚ Cathasach‚” said Judoc‚ my friend‚ the hall’s keeper and‚ fortunately‚ Amoorhi’s finest chef. “Have clemency‚ brother! I am still weary from last evening’s battle against the
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David: Welcome Thomas‚ we are very glad you came. Thomas: Thanks! I am happy to be here. David: We invited you here to ask you questions about your last several weeks during the trials. These trials must had been very hard on you and your friends. Thomas: Yes‚ those weeks were the hardest times of my life‚ and the only ones I can remember. David: Why is that? Thomas: When WICKED first gathered all of their test subjects‚ they erased most of our memories. We could remember the names of objects
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JORGE One night in Jamaica‚ a warm breeze rustled the trees‚ they seemed to whisper to him. As night fell‚ he watched the sun set and tried to count the stars. Jorge sat watching as the stars appeared in the sky. He couldn’t count‚ so high and decided and closed his eyes. Jorge leaned his head back into his palms and sighed. He was sprawled out on the cool grass. He patted his dog beside him. It would soon be time for dinner and he must go in and help his grandmother prepare the family meal
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My life begins here in Brownsville‚ Texas. However‚ I was only there from the beginning when I was a newborn before going back to Matamoros‚ Tamaulipas where my family had their own house. My mom wanted to have me in the U.S. because people had told her that there were far more opportunities over here. Technically‚ these two cities have become my two homes. I do miss Matamoros‚ Tamaulipas because that’s where I spend most of my childhood until I was seven years old. Then we had to return back to
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man’s world‚ you must act like a man now.’ His father got down from the train and stood outside the window‚ a hand reaching in 195 to pull Anil towards him and kiss his forehead. The train let out a wail‚ announcing its intention to depart in a short while. ‘Are you sending me off because I saw him do it?’ Anil asked. Ragunathan was taken aback by the question. He was ashamed for helping the headman to hide the truth about Marimuthu’s wife’s death‚ ashamed that he had
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For the sake of anonymity I’ll keep some names private‚ and call myself Beowulf. My story happened around two years ago‚ I was 26 years old when my family and I had noticed that my grandmother was starting to forget our names‚ couldn’t recall certain events‚ and at times seemed in a daze and lost from her state of mind‚ completely forgetting where she was in that moment. This was followed by her stumbling around the house and falling a few times. One time it got to the point where she fell down
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