The gut-wrenching screech of the whistle shook my ear drums‚ numbed my chest‚ and crippled my legs. Prior to this‚ Pine Richland had kicked a field goal that gave them a three point lead with only seconds left. We had one play to win: a kickoff return to hopefully save not only our season‚ but to justify the twelve years I had devoted to this game. As the ball was hopping down the field‚ I stood there trying to stop my hands from frantically shaking. After what felt like an hour‚ I could finally
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The sun shone down brightly as Tyler and Zoe pulled into the parking lot. Its bright rays reflected by the white snow covering the trees around them. The sound of their doors opening and closing scared the few birds left in the forest. Their speedy escape shook the tree limbs. Their rustling mixed with the flapping of wings created a torrent of sound in this peaceful place. “It looks amazing‚” Zoe’s voice sounded harsh to Tyler. The last few miles of the ride they had been in near silence.
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Pulling up on this old beat down gas station. We all knew it was old when the sign was hanging loosely and swinging with the wind. My dad needed to put gas but I could see he was very skeptical. I rolled my window down getting closer to the gas pump‚ when I smell the most unpleasant scent I have ever smelt. I told my dad we would have to pay for the gas on the inside because the machine was so old that dirt and spider webs built up in the card machine reader. The buttons to the pump were all faded
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As you gradually yet assuringly reach your way to the highest point of the lofty slope‚ you look to your side and see the ground beneath you creeping without end as you advance towards the skies. As you reach the top‚ your thoughts are muddled; fear‚ fervor‚ apprehension...As the cart arrives at a sudden stop‚ your heart is in your throat; you look to your front to see that you have reached the peak of giant slope. A silence hangs‚ as the riders get ready for the stomach-turning plunge. Before you
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Sparta Essay By: Belle Cardwell The rain; it’s calming like my mother’s grasp around me‚ engulfing me with warmth. That is over‚ though. Today is the Flagellation Day. It’s the day that proves if you’re man enough to become a Spartan Warrior. The heavy beatings and rude nature of the Flagellation go completely against my name‚ Charis. Charis‚ in Greek‚ means loving‚ kind‚ or loyal. I decided a long time ago that I should just forget the meaning behind my name and focus on being a good warrior. The
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Drake Nash English 1302 “The Storm” In the story “The Storm”‚ I believe the physical setting plays a large part. The storm begins to occur during the day and we know this because it is bright enough for Bobinot to notice the change in the clouds‚ and also because at the end of the story it states that the storm was over and the sun was turning the glistening green world into a palace of gems. The storm was basically a key force in the events that took place throughout the story. For
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I awoke on a beach‚ completely soaked‚ with salt water up my nose‚ and sand in every uncomfortable place imaginable. Drenched black hair obscured my sight. Cold sea air chilled my bare back. If I didn’t move soon I would die of hypothermia. I stood on my trembling legs. The cold wind bit at my chest. The sky was dark and it was clear that it would rain soon. Broken boards and scattered crates littered the shore. Clearly I was on some kind of ship‚ but where I was or where I came from was lost to
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My Computer I have an hp computer laptop. We’ll‚ it’s not actually mine because everyone uses it so I will not refer to it as mine. We’ve had it for about 7 months. Prior to this laptop we had a desktop computer. We had to get a laptop because the desktop computer malfunctioned due to a thunderstorm where it was struck by lightning. Anyway I’m supposed to be describing the laptop so that’s what I’m about to do in the next few paragraphs. The laptop is black. It has a silver logo on top of the face
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He sits on the steps in front of his brown house. One foot on the sidewalk the other leg bent at the knee. The orange glow of his cigarette held inches from his yellowing teeth. From inside the house he hears shouting. He stands‚ his light washed jeans are worn down at the knees. He stubs the cigarette in green ceramic ashtray on top of the wooden banister. Taking out a lighter‚ he walks over to his car. Placing one foot on the gray rear bumper‚ he lights a second cigarette. The luminescent street
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As I stand amongst the throngs of people in my carefully chosen spot I close my eyes and take a moment to breathe in the greatness that will be this rock concert. As the stench of burnt out cigarettes and stale spilt beer entangle in my nostrils they mix with the unmistakable reek of fresh vomit from the guy in front of me. I look down to him from my perch and see he has curled himself into the fetal position‚ looking like a tiny helpless child‚ dressed in stained black jeans two sizes to tight
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