"Creative writing first day of school" Essays and Research Papers

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    Each simple day flies by in a flurry spent entirely in the sun; naturally no time for television. My entourage of friends and I would inevitably meet for a swim bike ride or any other adventurous tale we care to venture on; our only worry to be back home in time for tea. I vividly remember one day with my companions. It was a blistering hot summer’s day spent entirely by the vast blue pool of the lake. We would bathe on the scorching white sand‚ of course no sun block in those days‚ playing trivial

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    Kendrick Creative Writing

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    doesn’t see often‚ and people with unusual names often go by something else. I don’t; for the most part‚ I like my name. Later that day‚ someone says “Hey‚ Kendrick‚” passing me in the hallway. My brain freezes for a second; I have no idea who that person is! So I simply say “hey” back‚ so casually‚ and move on. However‚ that isn’t an uncommon occurrence; ever since middle school‚ I have been used to the idea of my reputation preceding me and people knowing who I am before they have even met me. According

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    Park Creative Writing

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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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    eyes would flick over to the glowing red numbers as they crawled towards the time her alarm would go off‚ signalling a new day. The demonic red numbers switched to 3:00 am; the time for sleep fell to four hours. Cassie forced an inhale‚ and then breathed out slowly. It had been hours since she had persuaded herself to lie down in bed‚ yet her mind was still reeling from the day previous. It wasn’t as if anything spectacular had happened. Those sorts of events seemed to save themselves until Cassie

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    Creative Writing: Drowning

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    step out of the house‚ and take their big argument outside. I walked over to the window and watched their lousy arguing. It always ends up in the same place. One either gets kicked out of the house or someone leaves and doesn’t come back till a few days later. I was lying down on my lonely bed‚ looking at the ceiling fan go round and round. I was surrounded by the thin‚ white walls and the sounds of bickering outside by my parents. I breathed in and breathed out the sweet air that is circling around

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    “Yes ‘am?” “It’s Maureen‚ the sister from the Calliway Case?” Her voice shook. The last time she had spoke to this man was the day the of Amelia Calliway’s funeral. “Well hullo ma’am what can I do for you at sucha late hour?” He seemed to be in a better mood then the lady that first replied. “Phoebe‚ my niece from the Calliway case‚ has gone missing. My boy said he had seen a strange man shortly after her and Mark had had an argument. At six I called the

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    It was probably the first time I can recall saying no to him. We were a spontaneous couple that was always up for a a good time. I worked all day‚ then went off to school‚ and my last stop was to see him. His eyes twinkled with excitement when I arrived. He bounced around me requesting my presents as his passage. As the sun was going down as we

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    Creative Writing Belonging

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    The day arrived. The day I have been dreading for weeks. I knew that today I would have to deal with unwanted tears and emotions of sadness and emptiness running freely throughout my body. Today was the day that everything changed and the whole world around me would collapse. This was the day that I would have to travel 6209.2km across the world. To a place that is foreign and unknown to me but was once a place I used to call home. It was 6:09am in Bahrain. I watched as the large glowing sphere

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    Creative Writing (Fear)

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    in this world ‚I was somewhat good enough to get into the school first eleven at the age of thirteen and then into the state under nineteens the next year at the age of fourteen . This is exactly when the fear started creeping in ‚playing with guys almost half a decade older than me was like a David versus Goliath battle from the inside but this time Goliath was winning . During training I was impressing all and then on the first match day just before the coin went up between the the two leaders

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    A "Creative Writing" Essay

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    Analyzation of Two Poems Melinda Polom September 12‚ 2013 I will first be 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”

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