I believe that if I set my mind to something I can do it. Anyone can do this. Just setting your mind to something and going through with the comment to that‚ you can do anything. My story starts out with how I learned how to Juggle. Friday night it was 4th Friday for businesses downtown. My store which is The Red Peppermint had a juggler come to help bring in customers. We were slammed! Thanks Mr. Juggler! When he was there he asked us if we knew how to juggle. All three of us said “no”. So he
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cold spring day in the big city of Valcester‚ Nevada when my boss called me up to his office. “You’re Fired.” So many thoughts were running through my head. “How could this happen” I pondered ‚ shaking‚ his words left the same feeling of silence after a bullet has just been shot. “What did I do wrong?” I couldn’t wrap his words around my head. “Kevin‚ did you hear me? You’re fired” my boss uttered without a sense of remorse “But boss! What did I do‚ I’ve solved many cases all through my career
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to the racist nature of the Europeans who colonized Canada. The main character in the story‚ Big Tom‚ appears physically and mentally worn out by his life. At the beginning of the story‚ the reader gets a sense of bitterness with how he perceives his life. Despite living in poverty‚ he appears to be a caring father. The reader senses Big Tom grappling with his Native identity when he tells his infant son a story: “his voice slid awkwardly through the ageless folktale of his people”. It is as if Big
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Contact. Reassurance. Crossover. Some Dead took longer than others‚ but eventually‚ all moved across. Several times‚ they glimpsed the OtherPlace where the Dead went‚ but were unable to process what it was they saw. Blanche failed to identify it after conducting a wide search. *** I arrived at EternalSleep early. I always made it a point to be waiting when clients arrive. Mrs. Huston was my favorite kind of client. Wealthy and unable to accept the death of her husband‚ Harold. I was sympathetic
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The graveyard was dark and shadowed; tulips lined the cobblestone pathway that led to the mausoleum‚ looming darkly against the feeble moon. I strode through the graveyard‚ glancing nervously around at the shadows that lay thick upon the graves like a shroud. Tulips‚ protruding like withered stakes from the ground‚ lined the pathway‚ and I could smell their sickly-sweet odor as I approached the mausoleum‚ looming above me like a forbidding monument to the feeble moon above. “Rachel!” I cried out
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"My Journey from Sunset to Sunrise" When the sun sets‚ thousands of hues of purple‚ orange‚ pink‚ and yellow fill the heavens. They blend with the clouds and cast off a dreamy air. It is a time when the colors of the day meet the colors of the night. Deep purples of the coming nightfall mix ever so gently with the orange tingles of the day. This passing from day to night forms a period of pure magic‚ when one may no longer distinguish between where the day ends and the night sky begins. The
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heading out to the nearby town of Attleboro. It was there that I would start my first day volunteering at the Food Kitchen of Hebron. After a thirty-minute ride‚ I had arrived. I walked into the building nervous about volunteering. I started off by wrapping bread loaves‚ bagels‚ and donuts in plastic wrap for the homeless to take with them once they left. After successfully accomplishing that task‚ I proceeded to give out plates of eggs‚ pancakes‚ sausage‚ and pumpkin soup out. It was then that
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more than naive teenagers growing up in Brooklyn; but even so‚ she had always been Theo’s girlfriend and there were some lines that weren’t to be crossed. After all‚ Eric was Theo’s best friend and therefore Madison was and always would be off limits. Nevertheless‚ these nettlesome feelings had followed Eric into adulthood and throughout the years‚ he continued to hide his feelings‚ with of course‚ a few minor slip-ups. He was perhaps too protective of her‚ or maybe too quick to rush to her side‚ and
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this was going on‚ the 3 travelers had stolen all the tacos while everybody was distracted. It was the next morning before anybody noticed that all 500 tacos were gone. Many people wondered how 3 people could carry 500 tacos. But the moral of this story is. Never under estimate the will of 3 men. Who really. Really like
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the first grade; I’m a senior now. After 11 years of friendship‚ we now walk the halls pretending not to know each other when one sees the other. 11 years wasted on people who covered up or faked who they were all along. New to the district and to my elementary school‚ I shuffled my way to class with my eyes fixated on the floor below me. My father held my hand and as we reached my first grade classroom‚ he gave it a little squeeze. I had told my dad
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