that if my children didn’t obey me‚ to throw things and hit them. That if my wife didn’t reach your expectations to treat her like she was nothing and call her things that should never be said to a women. You mean nothing to me.” As he walked out the door he hoped he would never see this place again Josh went to a bridge about an hour away. This is where him and his mother went for picnics and to get away from his father. The bridge was quite beautiful. Below it‚ it has a river and on the
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Middle/High School Monologues Teaching Students to Read and Write Monologues Welcome to the World of Monologue A Sample Unit of Lessons for Middle and High School Teachers Jefferson County Public Schools Version 2.0 WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF MONOLOGUE By all reports from the field‚ this unit can be a lot of fun for you and your students: • there’s performance • there’s walking in others’ shoes and learning empathy 1 Middle/High School Monologues • there’s connecting to Farris Bueller‚ Bill Cosby
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her closet. She had blue walls‚ and a galaxy painted on her ceiling in her bedroom. If you looked to close you’d be hypnotized by its beauty‚ it could be stared at for hours‚ at least that’s what Jessica thought. The air that drifted through her open door smelled appetizing‚ she could tell her dad was making his famous exquisite lasagna again. She couldn’t wait to eat‚
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Behind Closed Doors at WorldCom: 2001 1. Two General Accounting employees—Dan Renfroe and Angela Walter—made journal entries in the amount of $150 million and $171 million‚ respectively‚ without detailed support. It was noted that this was not out of the ordinary at WorldCom. In your opinion‚ was this a proper accounting practice? Explain. Though this may not be out of the ordinary for WorldCom‚ this is not a correct accounting practice. The way the entries were made does not comply with the proper
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Don’t you just love when everything in your life is wonderful? Your football team is going to state‚ there’s only 2 days until Christmas‚ and your girlfriend is a super hot cheerleader. But even though everything in your life is perfect you feel like it may be too perfect. I felt like that when I woke up Thursday December 23‚ but the thought was quickly pushed out of my head as my phone went off‚ “Hey boo! I just wanted to tell you I love you and I wanted to remind you that we have appointments
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“Shit—where do I‚ uh—begin? I dunno.” A momentary lapse of silence follows breathless laughter. “’S a long story‚ Lando. It really is. Sit back. ‘Cause it’ll be a while before I’m done.” A sigh. “Really all dates back to when we were kids. When we were runnin’ the streets like they were our own. Back when we shared bread and soup together ‘cause we didn’t have enough money to buy anything else to eat. I think—I think around the time we turned twenty‚ and you said you were leaving to make
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Satsugai Matsuo-sensei stood over his lifeless body and bellowed‚ “What have you done!?” I didn’t mean to kill him‚ he kind of just got in the way. He was running from me so I was chasing him. Then he just suddenly stopped‚ I think. I look down at the knife in my hand‚ I had wiped the boy’s blood‚ I think his name was Aito‚ off onto my light blue jeans. I’m just a normal kid… I think. I just have some slight homicidal tendencies. “Satsugai!” yells sensei. His face has turned red with anger and his
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anxiety flutted around in my chest and gripped each breath like a vice. The daunting and steep steps danced in my mind making the simple task of walking up stairs more difficult than the impossible task to run a mile in a minute. Next‚ a boy pushed the door open behind him almost as an afterthought‚ but in my chaotic mind it was the best thing all morning to happen. On the dreadful first day of school‚ chivalry was not dead‚ or at least that’s how I was able to comprehend his actions. I glanced around
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“Once upon a time…” Sitting in my chair‚ looking at my vanity. I sat there waiting for my third sister to retrieve me for the ball that the Duke was having. I looked at the liar in the mirror. She wasn’t bad looking‚ long brown hair twisted by the maids‚ feathers adorned her she again‚ this year she was an owl‚ one of those pretty barn owls that live in my bird collection. My dress was a mess of brown and white feathers‚ I stared at the mirror and the only thing that always catches me is the sad
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I sat there‚ amongst the now overgrown and old rubble‚ staring out over the horizon. Holding her tiny‚ delicate hand mine. I have yet to tell her about the one she’ll never get to know or see‚ and about the war that erupted like a ferocious spark upon a weak dry shrub. Which I may never be ready to put onto her poor heart. It was a quiet afternoon‚ the village was alive with mirth‚ you could hear birds singing a melodious tune‚ kids playing in the town square‚ you could even hear the blacksmith
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