sky. She becomes more enraged by the second. The young lady finally erupts‚ yelling and almost crying. Her ex-husband has not paid her child support in a month‚ and she cannot buy diapers for her baby. The clerk tells her that nobody can do anything about it until he is six months behind in his support. After five more minutes of intense arguing‚ the young lady‚ now engulfed in tears‚ leaves. The clerk shrugs and turns around. The air grew colder as I proceeded upstairs. There‚ a presence of dampness
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on as I listen to the guy next to you snoring and the kid behind me kicks the back of my chair. The pilots’ rough voice comes on the intercom and says "Howdy folks‚ just wanna let you know that we are getting ready to land and we should be there in about ten short minutes.". Then I listen carefully‚ but don’t understand anything the Mexican lady is saying. Ten minutes go by and I hear the screeching and squealing of the airplane’s tires as they hit the Mexican runway. I feel as if I’ve spent decades
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As you grow up‚ you often tend to look back on your childhood and remember things that have helped shape who you are as a person. For me‚ one of the most vivid events in my childhood was when I moved from my mom’s house in Nevada to my dad’s house in California when I was seven. My mom made the decision to have me move in with my dad. It was a blazing hot Saturday‚ the kind that you can only find in the suburbs of Las Vegas. I was laying down on the couch‚ watching tv and I could hear my mom talking
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eyes full of tears with the excitement of being an integral piece of the compellation and said‚ “I promise Nana.” As I started to chop the celery into what my grandmother told me were to be “paper-thin” slices I drifted away for a moment‚ thinking about what it would be like to be a grown-up‚ having my own Thanksgiving feast. Fast forward twenty years or so‚ and here I am a grown-up or so I believe to be‚ having my first Thanksgiving feast in my newly purchased home. The house is decorated
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causes me to shiver. I go inside of the car to get some cover. As I lean on the seat to get more comfortable‚ I start driving and I continue to look outside. Constant noise of the cars driving by on Sunrise Highway distracts me from being worried about what is going to happen soon. I can see trees and bushes through the window that are planted along the road forming a fence line. The leafless bushes are trimmed at the top so evenly‚ as if someone used a ruler to cut them. On the power lines above
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constantly asked me where I was‚ who I am with and the forever said “You don’t understand now but someday you will when you have you own kids.” Of course now I do. I have one child. I always thought why is she saying that? It was because she cares about me and she loves me. I also remember my first day of school‚ Mom was there with me. To me‚school
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Childhood Memories Can Be Positive Reinforcement My favorite childhood place was at my grandparent’s house. My grandparent’s last name was Mountain. Their property had the nick name‚ “The Mountain House‚” I remember wonderful memories of spending time there with my family; eating grandma’s famous potato salad‚ tasting grandpa’s fabulous barbeque ribs‚ and most of all eating those wonderful Mountain family cherries. The sounds and smells are truly alive in my memory. These memories are incredibly
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My Quiet Place After a year of living in our small two bedroom house we decided that we needed to add another bedroom. We had made all the decisions of what we wanted it to look like such as the size of the room‚ the size of the closet and what we what kind of mood the atmosphere would give us. I wanted the room to feel welcoming‚ warm and cozy‚ like sitting next to a warm fireplace on a cold snowy night. I wanted to call this room my quiet space where I can relax‚ read‚ and be big enough
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A late December night Like many other nights; it is late and I am tired‚ leaving the bar after my shift and driving home. It must be close to 4o’clock in the morning now; the roads are covered in snow like a cozy white blanket on a cold black night. I seem to be alone on this two lane highway; my headlights are the only ones shining‚ like two beckons in a lighthouse searching for others in the dark. The roads have just been plowed‚ very little is on the pavement but the snow is falling fast‚ within
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My Great-Grandparent’s Farm My Great-Grandparent’s farm is tucked away in the rural village of Mt. Calvary‚ Wisconsin. Mt. Calvary is a small densely populated village consisting of primarily dairy farmers of German Catholic decent‚ that lies in the vast rolling green hills of South-East Wisconsin. My Great-Grandparent’s farm has always been a very special place. It is also a place to go to find peace and serenity when life is overwhelming and hectic. My Great-Grandfather hand built the
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