The Years of the Berlin Wall: From My Eyes August 13‚ 1961. A day of misery‚ ordeal and dashed hopes. I had woken to the sound of an obstreperous shriek and what seemed like a case of mass hysteria. Within minutes I became conscious of the fact I was alone in the bedraggled shack we liked to call home. I wandered around in my solitude. Promptly I advanced to the outside pavement where infinite numbers of people were gathered. To the left of me I noticed my mother. Seated on
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"For Justice!" Superman lets out a warcry‚ immediately throwing himself at his armoured archnemesis‚ sending them both into the mountain behind the ruined castle with a loud crash. I guess... that was our cue‚ I assume‚ selecting my target amongst the Young Justice clones. Also‚ I’m guessing that the JL is taking down Luthor’s gang‚ leaving the responsibiliy of handling ’Project Solar Dawn’ to us. We should know ways to beat us‚ right? Out of us all‚ I guess that fighting ourselves is the best option
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The Blue Wall of Silence Beru Cakrazli "Charlie! Charlie‚ come back here!” Her German Shepard’s scruffy tail wagged from side to side as he raced away from Anna. "It’s early. The grass is damp. The wind is brisk. The birds are chirping. Prospect Park is filled with people. Just not my dog." Anna heard the echoes of people screaming and Charlie barking. She rushed towards the commotion‚ sheer terror masking her face. "Someone call an ambulance!" A knock sounded at the door. "Commissioner Hyde
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wounds or makes one’s life a little better‚ a little more enjoyable or productive. It’s easy to talk about these things‚ much harder to do them. I think the only one who can help you is you‚ just the same as the only one who can help me is me. I’m writing about the actual work of change‚ what is sometimes called transformation. We might get ideas from others and that can be good. Especially if we know that person has lived the change they’re preaching. We might even agree to work with some mentor as
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The rooftop was iced with a cushion of snow‚ merging with the creamy-purple twilight sky. Shovelled into the rooftop snow‚ a pale red sign read “Land Here Santa”. The sign was flaking and the wood was splintering‚ but it still brought the same vibrancy to the little cottage. The cottage itself was built with rich auburn brick with a white lining. An extensive string of sprightly festive lights ran along the eave of the roof‚ illuminating the street‚ spreading warmth through a bitter morning. A snowflake
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g Beautiful Tragic Love I never asked my life to be a FAIRY TALE or PERFECT‚ all I wanted was a normal life‚ and I didn’t have a very happy childhood living with my parents as an only child. As I was growing up all my life it revolved around men‚ every time I would fall in love with one‚ they would leave me after 3 months. I was beginning to feel like a hopeless romantic just like my mum when my dad had left her when I was beginning to experiment with love. I felt cursed. I kept asking myself “WHY
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Far away‚ she sees the biggest volcano of Hawaii‚ Mauna Loa. Kailani looks down at her prosthetic leg and then looks back at the volcano. “ Well; I guess this is it Kiwi‚ hopefully we’ll make it all the way to the top. We really need to get that letter to rescue Father.” she said. “Roof” Kailani takes her very first steps towards the volcano. Her legs shaking with fear of what will happen. She worries that something might go wrong. Kailani starts to walk very slowly as she approaches a rock
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My childhood memory that still occurs today I don’t know why I’m surprised about this as it’s happened before and still is today. Looking back at it now has made me a lot more confident and I feel a lot stronger than I was before. This all happened 10 years back from now how I had an operation on my eyes that didn’t go to plan and left me with bad results to my eyes as one was squint and the other was just normal. Knowing I had to go to school with these effects was terrifying‚ nerve-racking‚ scary
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Creative Writing The short story by Etgar Keret is about the metaphorical aspect of creative writing using two characters; Aviad and Maya‚ husband and wife who have recently gone through the tragedy of a miscarriage. The story begins with Maya‚ who has been encouraged to attend creative writting workshops in hopes of getting out more and moving on rather than sitting at home dwelling on the lost child. Aviad at first seems quite pleased that Maya has been doing well in her workshops‚ however
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I asked‚ “What is your involvement with Mr Inman?” “Me? Well‚ none. I told you‚ I read about him in the paper.” “What about the church?” “I told you about that too‚ didn’t I Bernie. He writes those letters to the Chronicle defending SecuWisdom. The guy’s free to write any letters he damn-well wants. It’s a free country.” I said‚ “Megan Hooper asked him to write the letters. That’s what Inman says. Brags about it‚ in fact.” “Yeah. You said that.” He shrugged. “I leave people to do their jobs. Megan
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