Short story – jealous Tina and Susan were best friend from primary school until now. Tina is a girl with pretty face‚ smart brain and she had a good interpersonal relationship. Susan is a girl that hard-working but dull. Tina was her only friend and the best friend. It seems that everything of Susan is better. Comparing cannot be avoided. ’What a good weather!’ Tina said. ’Then ‚ what can we do? I suggest...’ Susan answered. ’Wait‚ wait!You forget our biology SBA and
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A curious child asked his mother: “Mommy‚ why are some of your hairs turning grey?” The mother tried to use this occasion to teach her child: “It is because of you‚ dear. Every bad action of yours will turn one of my hairs grey!” The child replied innocently: “Now I know why grandmother has only grey hairs on her head.” :mrgreen: Wrong email address: A couple going on vacation but his wife was on a business trip so he went to the destination first and his wife would meet him the next
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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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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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"...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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• Walter talks about the missed business opportunity with Charlie Atkins. P.32 • Complains that he has nothing to pass on to Travis. “I have been married eleven years and I got a boy who sleeps in the livingroom -- and all I got to give him is stories about how rich white people live…” p. 34 • To Mama: “Do you know what this money means to me? Do you know what this money can do for us? Mama—Mama—I want so many things.” P. 73 • Mama: “Son‚ how come you talk so much ‘bout money?” Walter: “Because
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existed how could I possibly anticipate a future? Memories are extraordinary. There are voids in one’s remembrances‚ yet the mind can conjure up detailed images of others. As the youngest in the family my “pre loved bicycle was a battered royal red etched with a silver logo. On countless Sundays I had ridden up the hill‚ over the rise and passing the weeping willow‚ to arrive at my grandmother’s house. Invariably‚ she would be cooking in her kitchen. I vividly recall the fragrant aromas arousing
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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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or recognition or being singular. Superannuated retired because of age or infirmity. Unnerving make someone lose courage or confidence. Veneer Covering something with a nice piece of wood About the Author: Bill Bryson’s a popular travel writer whose hiking stories combine human interest with a sense of interest and humor. Bryson has spent more than 20 years in England‚ touring the countryside and writing bestselling books. In 1995‚ Bryson returned the the UAS in New Hampshire near the appalachian trail
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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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