All the low whispers and voices fill the room with noise. Listening intently‚ I hear conversations about people attending future events… “Did you hear about Lucy’s party this Saturday? I am definitely going.” “Are you going to watch Shakespeare in the park?” I see people speak to one another‚ socializing‚ and having a great time. I feel jealousy towards those who are talking with
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giving to you‚ my analyzation of the short poem‚ titled‚ "First Fig"‚ written by author‚ Edna St. Vincent Millay‚ who was born in the year of 1892‚ and died in the year of 1950. I am at first‚ making the assumption that‚ when the author is speaking about a candle‚ which "burns at both ends"‚ that she must be comparing a candle‚ and the "light that it gives out”‚ using the candle‚ as a symbol‚ or as a “representative” in one way‚ or another of her "higher power"‚ or more specifically‚ God... and the
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She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her but her kidnapper was advancing fast. She held her note close to her chest as mud splashed upon her bare arms and legs leaving streaks on her daisy patterned shorts. She tripped on a large rock‚ barely noticeable on the mucky ground and in moments her kidnapper was upon her. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t breathe. She cried‚ and in the final moments before death she murmured a faint sound. “Mommy” Stabbed viciously and beaten long after her
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His heart pounded heavily against his chest‚ the wheels turning in his mind about his next course of action. Dare he stay out? Dare he go in? Those were his only two choices and neither one of them were all that appealing to him. Greer knew very well what awaited him outside: emptiness—a whole lot of it. Not only did a vast‚ uninhabited
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knees. She heaved dryly‚ trying to force the panic out of her body until her heartbeat was manageable and her legs were no longer mimicking that of a baby deer. Leaning her clammy forehead against the cool porcelain‚ Cassie braced herself for what was about to come after the commotion she had
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The sun beamed upon my face‚ my gaze was looked onto the cloudless sky‚ a shining blue that could allow me to feed off its tranquillity and calmness. As I stood there‚ I looked ahead on the path I was about to take. As I was walking down the surprising deserted street‚ attentive of the noise surrounding me; the cries of the Apollo’s dark-wind messenger stretched through the sky‚ gossiping of all it had seen. As I strolled pass the creamy-yellow painted‚ wrought-iron gates‚ under me was a concrete
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my house.” “Oh god! Did that vicious thief take anything valuable? Are you okay?” “Fortunately‚ no. Nothing of that sort. Luckily I wasn’t home that day.” “Well‚ I think you should report it‚ make sure the police get them.” “Yea‚ I’m thinking about that.” After finishing a bottle of wine‚ Emma decides to return home. The desk lamp
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My heart ached more than my broken leg as I stared at the trophy across from the gym‚ mocking me‚ telling me I wasn’t good enough. The doctor said he wasn’t sure if I would be able to play in the state championship‚ but I sure earned it‚ the team needed me. I got up using my crutches as a guide‚ and walked across the room‚ to the face of the trophy that made me the most nervous‚ then looked at the basketball hoop south of it. My baby sat their all sad and lonely‚ like he hasn’t seen me in years‚
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sea. When i want to relax in the summer I go to the beach. I enjoy swimming with friends and family on the waves. 6. I think that the beach is like paradise to me. There isn’t anything that is more relaxing. To kick your feet up not have to worry about anything and relax. You can go to the strip and walk there is lots of fun places to buy things have fun‚ play games‚ you can even ride the fairs wheel! feeling the hot sun beat down on your face and body. Lots of children and people playing catch or
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Fianna bent down low to the ground her fingers tracing the familiar patterns of human feet. “They’re not guards‚ the footprint is too light for the heavy metal of the boot.” She stood looking down at the trekking of the small foot prints‚ “It’s either a woman or a small man. They appear to be wearing soft commoner slippers‚ and have a slight limp in there left side‚ which could be from a bag or a weapon of some sort. Possibly even an injury.” She turned to the figure standing beside her‚ brushing
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