agreeing with himself. "You don’t live on campus." "Right. We don’t both live on campus‚ so it’s long distance." Cooper rolls his eyes. "You two are both helpless. So‚ you’re at the off-Broadway production...." "Yes." Kurt tries to remember what made-up story he’s telling. "So‚ I had just come out with the rest of the cast at the back of the theater‚ and Blaine thrusts his playbill at me and asks for my autograph. I told him…that…I wasn’t anybody and he didn’t really want my picture. I mean autograph
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on anything. What an exciting and happy day it is today. Earlier this afternoon we were trying to get all the beautiful bridesmaids and handsome groomsmen‚ and the lovely bride and dapper groom‚ ready for this day of festivity. I must admit though that Connor was surprisingly calm and ready for today‚ as if he knew what he was getting himself into. I may look stress-free right now but I was running around like crazy trying to make sure everything was set up just right. It was up to me to dress
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“Who am I?” asked Aurora. “What?” her mother responded. “I said‚ ‘who am I?’” said Aurora‚ her voice reaching a stifled yell. “Now why would you ask a silly question like that? Is something wrong‚ Honey?” said her mother‚ confused at the question. Aurora’s mother was one who would be considered a trophy wife‚ and a caring one at that. Her name was Maria. She spent most of her days at home; when Maria wasn’t at home she was helping her husband with his campaigning. “There is something you
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sure his life‚ and death‚ were not in vain. Jeff Crowther hopes his son’s story will inspire people to become a volunteer firefighter‚ to give money to the homeless every day like Welles did‚ to set goals and follow through. "If Welles’ story helps people to think of others then God bless them‚ God bless him‚" said his father. "He didn’t live long enough to be head of a corporation or do good works or endow a museum. But what he did on September 11‚ that’s his legacy." -- CNN correspondents Greg
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Growing up on an island surrounded by water‚ it was hard to resist the temptations of the ocean. I was vicariously watching the older crew who were pretty gregarious bodyboarders ‚ but as me and my friends grew older we got dexterous with bodyboarding. Our little crew was always trying to one up each other‚ we were pretty ostentatious when it came to that kind of stuff. We would always go out on the optimal days for bodyboarding‚ but some days we would just go out to facetious time. We would also
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that studies are not the most favorite subject for a child her age‚ I expected her to answer straightforwardly. Which‚ she did. However‚ she looked so eager to reply‚ that I could not fathom her enthusiasm about such a dull topic. All my instincts woke up! Her excitement was either a childish act‚ or was triggered by some very pleasant and very real event which must have taken place during the course of the past week’s studies. As for Dame Chaboix‚ encouraged by the girl’s behavior‚ she reiterated her
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in the seat beside mine. “I’m sorry ma’am‚ I woke up late.” Alyssa mumbled. She looked worn out. I was going to ask what happened but decided that it wasn’t the best thing to do. I’ll just ask her after school. School had finally ended and Alyssa and I were walking home when we heard some yelling near the courthouse. We walked that way and saw a huge crowd standing outside of the courthouse. They were chanting some words but I didn’t catch what they were saying. We were going to go around the building
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In limbo for hours until I finally decided to arise. Stretching and moving‚ waking my body up in preparation for the difficult day ahead. Physically my bones ached‚ creaking as I walked‚ like the floorboards of a forgotten home. Mentally I was lost‚ for I had nothing to say. I was a mime walking. What should someone do when the most important person in their life dies? Do you sit there‚ do you cry‚ do you ignore everyone? The funeral lasted for an hour and thirty-two minutes‚ from start to finish
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A loud knock on the door shattered the peaceful silence of this rural farmhouse. Claire woke up‚ her heart racing‚ and saw that it was 3:15 AM. In her dark bedroom‚ she lay still as the soft‚ shaded moonlight streamed into her window and framed the intrusion. The knock returned‚ more urgent‚ her pulse thumping in her ears. Claire kicked the tangled sheets and swung her legs over the bed. Her feet touched the cool floor as she shuffled to the door‚ her mind racing. It was an odd hour for visitors
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possession through a breathing-taking fear that the goal may never be reached‚ but in most cases it’s the goal that diminishes the fear. It diminishes the fear merely into a Dandelion seed that one day will float in the air. Take Angela for example‚ she grew up in a small village in South America with a mouth full of dreams and an ocean filled with overgrown seaweeds that were hungry for the light that her dreams emitted* from her own eyes. Her dream was to become a famous writer‚ but when her parents could
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