Ollie McGee Have you seen walking through the village A Man with downcast eyes and haggard face? That is my husband who‚ by secret cruelty Never to be told‚ robbed me of my youth and my beauty; Till at last‚ wrinkled and with yellow teeth‚ And with broken pride and shameful humility‚ I sank into the grave. But what think you gnaws at my husband’s heart? The face of what I was‚ the face of what
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requirements for her class. “Monologues will be due Monday morning.” I heard Ms. White say. My nerves could not catch a break. After class‚ I went home and wrote my monologue. I did not want to present my monologue to the class. I was shy and knew no one in my class. I told myself repeatedly that I could do it. Monday morning was here before I knew it. The feeling of dread filled me‚ and I wanted to back out‚ receive my zero with pride. When I arrived at school‚ my monologue clutched firmly in my hand
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saluting enthusiastically to their red-robed leaders under the yellow star; the boat crammed with coughing throats and calloused hands; blood washed away by the rains. She talked about things I had only ever heard about from the kind of tragic monologues that hot-shot actors won Oscars for and only shed real tears for at the podium. But unlike the performers’ melodramatic shouts of magniloquent misdirected emotion and the onion tears I associated with this kind of language‚ she seemed perfectly
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Dramatic Intro Flashing lights were blinding my vision‚ and emergency sirens were screaming in my ears‚ both making it hard to process the situation I was in. I looked around praying to find something familiar that could possibly give me guess as to what was happening‚ but was interrupted by sharp creaking of a metal door‚ which robbed my attention. I looked towards the direction the sound was coming from and was shocked to see the face of a man‚ I tried moving but couldn’t. Confused I asked him
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The vile odour of disinfectant permeates the air around me. My heart is racing and my trembling‚ sweaty hands cling onto my mother’s like a sloth to its branch. Gradually‚ more doctors begin to crowd around me‚ resembling vultures hovering over their prey‚ preparing to strike. The clanging of metal instruments and beeps of various machines distract me momentarily. Looking over to my left‚ I see a stout‚ middle-aged man donned in a green surgical gown. He is wearing a big‚ red foam nose and a multi-coloured
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The glazed tiles reflected on my tired eyes not allowing to be opened. I slowly started blinking‚ harmfully blinking my eyes to see where I am. I scrunched my eyes at the bright shining light of the operation theatre. Imagining what all I had gone through in the past hours‚ I felt relieved. Thanking god to keep me alive‚ and letting me save the lives of those innocent people who have suffered so much. The nurse approached me and inquired about my health. It was more of a routine‚ and I was dragging
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As I walked into the barbers for my weekly shave I notice the barber sharpening his razors. The colour drains from his face‚ and though I can not see it‚ I know he’s trembling. I almost laugh‚ it’s like he wants to be caught. I begin to remove my belt‚ as it holds my gun and my cartridges‚ the weapon that killed his allies‚ and notice him eyeing it nervously. I stop myself from smiling as I hang it onto the hook in the wardrobe and rest my hat on top. As usual‚ I hung up my bullet studded belt‚
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If I see that one of my friends is continuously looking off into space with a frown or looking down into their laps as if waiting for something ‘right’ to fall into it. . I make it a priority to text or talk to them about it. Usually they’ll say things like “I’m just tired.” Obviously‚ being someone who uses that excuse as if it’s the secret to life‚ I tell them it’s okay to talk about it if they need to. But‚ what about me? I mentioned I use that same ‘excuse’‚ did you catch that? Yes? Well‚ I’m
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The sun was an arctic blue overhead as I lay on what appeared to be a dull orange shrub. I closed my eyes for a moment‚ completely disoriented. Just a moment ago I was in a park‚ I remember a tugging sensation on myself‚ then a crushing feeling‚ before suddenly being thrust into the sky that I see now‚ completely alien from my world. Where am I? The land around me was rather flat‚ orange shrubbery dotted it‚ with certain structures on the plant that glowed blue‚ most no higher than my shin‚ trees
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It is under much strain that I withhold the flood of tears behind my eyes. For if the levy bursts‚ I fear I may meet a fate much like dear Ophelia. My dear Ophelia… my friend‚ my sister… I am aghast by your drowning‚ there was so much more for you in this world‚ you were like a blossoming flower‚ emerging into the light for all to see… and now‚ without even slowly wilting away‚ you are gone‚ and I am alone. Oh God‚ why would you take her and leave me so alone‚ and so soon after our own father’s
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