Annie Normile 11/22/14 College Writing I Professor Liddle Exploring Authentic Experiences The ground beneath the stiff leaves is frozen. The cold‚ brisk air invades my lungs‚ I exhale‚ my breath visible. I step over fallen branches and get tugged on by thorny vines. The untrailed path I forge to the top of this mountain is steep and difficult‚ but worth the work to be a new explorer on the fresh‚ dewridden ground of this lonely mountain on this brisk morning
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never to be forgotten. The beach is my home where I explored‚ learned‚ and relaxed; it swept up my childhood to the shores as each tide pushes up. My trips to the seashores reminded me of being home. I remember packing for a picnic on the second day of January 2003. It was a family BBQ for a New Years celebration that year. This is something we do every year. My family always goes to the beach‚ it’s a place we loved to spend quality time together. I didn’t know what to start with‚ so I grabbed
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For a guy who had just recently got used to waking up at 10 AM‚ and spending the entire day playing soccer and video games‚ it was quite a challenge to wake up at six in the morning and take the metra to downtown by seven. My visit to the Chicago History Museum was an opportunity to discover the wonders of history of one of the biggest cities in the world. The spectacular exhibits from all over Chicago offers a remarkable insight from the era of gangsters and mobs to the era of the city’s becoming
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It was a typical spring day; flowers stand tall‚ soaking in the sun’s warm rays as they swing in the gentle yet crisp breeze. A song composed of chirping birds slightly overpower the sound of traffic as it is still early in the morning. Macy Jones awoke after a well rested night. Her facial expressions indicate happiness however‚ a way of reality hit‚ quickly transforming the slight smile into a deep frown. Macy Jones is not pretty‚ nor does she feel loved. She often wished her dull brown hair be
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Kaytlin Edwards Melted Knee Everything appeared to melt from the heat of the sweltering sun. I had fallen twice that day and every time I tried to get back up it was like a cloud of darkness was in my head and covering my eyes. Dribbling a ball up and down a court in 100 degree weather can cause a little bit of dizziness. Except the third time I fell‚ my head did not experience the darkness; my whole body did. It was as though someone let a cage of butterflies out in my stomach‚ but not the kind
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White Sweatshirt Red Bandana When I got out of the Army I took a job as a Security Officer at the Exeter Job Corps. The Job Corps is a place run by the state where young people ages 16 to 25 can go for their High School diploma‚ GED and vocational training. The Jobs Corps offered competitive wages‚ a great benefits package and gave troubled kids a second chance at doing something with their lives. What they failed to mention was the Exeter Job Corps was one of the most haunted places in Rhode
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My favorite place is my grandfather’s log cabin in Leakey‚ Texas. It is not fancy or anything special but it is my home away from home. I helped built it when I was very young and I go there any chance I get. The 4th of July is the best time of the year down there. The cabin is located on Saddleback Mountain. The cabin looks grey and black because of all the weathering. The front porch is huge and you can see the mountains and trees for miles. We normally go out in the mornings and watch the sunrise
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stole a quick glance behind me and saw an old man dressed in all black. The man was probably about 70 years old with shoulder-length white hair. He was wearing a long black cloak and black pants which seemed odd considering it was pretty warm that day. I kept walking‚ thinking that maybe it was just a coincidence that he was walking behind me‚ but I after I made a few turns and he was still behind me I decided I should just go home. I sprinted the rest of the way home knowing that he wouldn’t be
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Carina Wallace English 111 Ms. Simmerman Jan. 22‚ 2015 My Second Home I wake up to the sound of laughter downstairs‚ and the smell of fresh hot biscuits in the oven. I sit up drowsily in bed; the sun is shining through the window‚ making little patterns of light on my sheets. I rise‚ feeling the coolness of the wood floor against my feet as they touch the ground. I walk to the closet and grab my faded old jeans; I slip them on‚ buttoning the snap in one fluid movement. I pull open the top drawer
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I remembered nothing‚ but as I stepped off the plane into the tropical humidity I felt a sense of familiarity. Soon after landing at the sleepy Nadi international airport my father and I boarded a cramped bus on its way to the capital of Fiji‚ Suva‚ my birthplace. Perhaps if George Speight had kept his ambitions in check and decided not to attempt a coup d’etat in 2000 it could have been my home. But it was not to be‚ and as the sounds of gunfire trickled down from the parliament up the road to our
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