[pic] PEN 0055 Essential English Foundation in Law ONLINE NOTES Reading 1 (Short Stories) A Rose for Emily William Faulkner | When Miss Emily Grierson died‚ our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a |1 | |fallen monument‚ the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house‚ which no one save an old man-servant—a | | |combined gardener and cook—had seen in at least
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"...the pain of saying goodbye and moving on." Write a short story inspired by the above phrase. Bright lights. Clean walls. Clean floors. Pale uniforms. People rushing back and forth through the corridors. That nauseating smell that lingers in your nostrils for hours after you leave. Blood slipped down the left side of his face‚ dripping off his chin‚ slowly forming a tiny puddle between his legs. His hair was a mess‚ his clothes soaked - ragged in places where the medics had cut them to check
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meeting all his aunts‚ uncles‚ grandparents‚ and cousins. I did not expect for the meeting to end up like this. Brandon‚ my boyfriend‚ and his younger cousin‚ Jake‚ picked me up at Packers Bay in the ski boat. It was a chilly morning and I was in shorts and tank top and had only my towel to keep me warm. The boys forgot where the houseboat was parked in the lake. We spent the next hour and half searching the entire area of Shasta Lake for their houseboat. “Brandon‚ just call your mom and ask where
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Patience Jones November 12‚ 2012 Short Story Corrections Everything Matters Everything Matters “Shay! How are you?” asked Leah. Leah and Shay were cousins‚ but they acted like sisters. Shay and Leah lived together and were both in college. Shay had just gotten back from a vacation in Cuba. Shay hugged Leah and said‚ “I’m doing okay. I feel a little down lately.” Shay frowned. “Well‚ how was your trip?” asked Leah. Shay just shrugged and waved her off then went into the house. Later
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STORY 1: “The Lamp at Noon” by Sinclair Ross The story “The Lamp at Noon” takes place in a dried up‚ unfertile desert. Dust storms are causing health problems for the family. The setting is crucial to create the dark and sad atmosphere of the story because it was all about the fact that there is something wrong with the place that it dried out their farm which caused them to suffer. Which also creates a mood of being dull‚ lonely and monotonous. The couple‚ Ellen and Paul‚ has been arguing about
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In the story‚ “The Lottery‚” by Shirley Jackson‚ the only point of view used by the author is the dramatic or objective point of view. In this point of view‚ the narrator is an unidentified speaker who reports things in great detail‚ even though the narrator does not play a role in the story. By using such point of view‚ Jackson builds an aura of uncertainty that endures until the dramatic ending of the story. From the beginning of the story‚ the knowledge about the lottery is revealed only by the
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strange man was following us in his car. He was about 40 years old with dirty clothes. Before we arrived to school he had shouted‚ "stop stop stop the bus" to the driver and he tried to stop our bus. So he hit the front of the bus by his car. After five minutes the bus stopped totally and the driver closed the door and windows tightly. After that the driver asked us to keep quiet and sat down in our seats. The strange man was coming to us and throwing small stones to the windows. So the driver called
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“Hills Like White Elephants” calls to mind the “A Game of Chess” section of T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land (1922); like Eliot’s masterpiece‚ Hemingway’s story deals with the sterility and vacuity of the modern world. The boredom of the man and the desperation of the girl reveal the emptiness of the postwar generation and the crucial necessity of taking responsibility for the quality of one’s own life. Hemingway’s characters seem to live in a world without a God‚ without traditions or clear and established
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A Home on the Other Side of the Mirror “Dillon‚ it’s time to go!” His father yelled from his car. His room was the only place left he could think. But maybe that was a good thing. He carried his suitcase downstairs‚ each step seeming like an inch closer to rock bottom. The door slams behind him‚ leaving the sounds of anger to echo throughout the house in despair that his mother might be listening and come running after him. She was gone now though. It had been only a few days since his mother
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One by one‚ the raindrops fell onto my head as I looked out onto the front yard‚ eagerly waiting for the postman to make his delivery. Feeling my hair drenched and frizzing up didn’t make me flinch as it usually did. There was only one thing that could summon that feeling. In the distance I could start to hear the grumble of the postman’s bike. As my ears twitched to the nearing of the roaring sound‚ I immediately got up off the veranda and paced towards the front gate. It was only a minute later
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