voice. The Mienshao gasped at the sudden sound of the two voices‚ which sounded a bit muffled and distant. She remained quiet and listened to the conversation. "So tell me Richard‚ what have you got for me today?" asked the first voice. "Boy oh boy‚ I’ve got the Pokemon you’ve been waiting for Dr. Feinburg‚" replied the second voice. All of the sudden there was a big flash of bright light. The Mienshao winced and covered her eyes. "Oh my! A Mienshao! You actually caught one?" gasped the
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[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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speeding motorists. One day‚ the officer was amazed when everyone was under the speed limit‚ so he investigated and found the problem. A 10 years old boy was standing on the side of the road with a huge hand painted sign which said “Radar Trap Ahead.” A little more investigative work led the officer to the boy’s accomplice: another boy about 100 yards beyond the radar trap with a
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him and prays that whenever the time comes‚ that she will be the first to go because she is weak and he is strong. Summary of “Little Red Riding Hood” This short story is the classic tale of a little girl in a red cloak going to take her ill grandmother some baked goods. This is the first known publication of Charles Perrault’s story. Little Red Riding Hood was loved by her mother and even more so by her grandmother‚ who made her a red hooded cloak to wear out and about. The little girl was on
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Ramazan was a thirteen years old boy. He was at a secondary school in Hüyük. He was very clever but he was also naughty. Ramazan was the only child of the family. He didn’t have any sisters and brothers‚ so he sometimes used to feel himself alone at home . He had only a few friends from school but after school he didn’t have enough time to play with them . Because his friends stayed in a dormitory and they had to go to the dormitory after school. Only they were free at weekends. So on weekdays
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Short Story: Danger Mouse Umpa Lumpa’s And Fickle Thoughts FOUR O’CLOCK! He said I could leave at four o’clock today. WANKER! Being my last day an all‚ I was promised on Monday that I could leave an hour early today‚ as a good will gesture‚ you know‚ thanks for all the hard work and all that; ten fucking years of hard work – and I get an hour. Well‚ it’s now just gone half three‚ and that jumped up‚ four eyed little Hitler wants me to attend a productivity meeting. I should have just told him where
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theorists of this school of thought‚ the role of the reader is critically important in understanding of literature and actively seeking the meaning of the literary text. The Story of The Inky Boys is a moral story and was written by Heinrich Hoffman for his children in 19th century. I personally feel that this is not really a story about discrimination due to the differences in skin color. The whole text may be structured with some forms of offensiveness and negative implications. The black moor is the
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Short Story There is one thing in my life that I cannot go a day without and that being my purse. My purse is much more important to me than a hauler of my things that gets carried along with me everywhere I go. It metaphorically carries my life in its silk lining. So on a frigid day in November while on vacation in New York‚ I made a horrible realization that I lost my purse. After realizing that I lost my purse I felt like a mother that just lost her child. All I could think about is that
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I also did not mind looking out the window at the grey world around me. I was the last to be picked up in the mornings‚ so when the bus made an unexpected stop two blocks from my house I could not help but to look over towards the doors. A tall boy‚ who looked to be about my age‚ stepped onto the bus. He had brown hair just above shoulder length and blue-green eyes that were bright enough for me to notice from my seat. Looking at him‚ it was the first time that I had actually found a guy to be
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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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