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Olden Days Short StoryTo my beloved wife, Anna.
Ah! My first month here in Massachusetts has past, never have I seen such a dull two fortnights pass! When I left you and my dearest sons, David and Michael, to care for my mother, I'm sure none of us had the slightest notion how remote the town of Northamshire could be! There are certainly young people for me to chat with, but they act most un-Christian! Doing nothing but drinking and cursing! I do not believe you need my explaining as to where they will soon be going! However, the real reason which I am writing is to let you know that the dullness has finally ended! A traveling priest from Europe by the name of George Whitfield came to our small little town today, to give a sermon. Now, I am sure, as I would if I were you, that you are frowning down at this letter by this point. I understand how tedious and uninteresting sermons can sometimes be (although they do not seem that way after Northamshire!), but Mr. Whitfield seems to have truly awakene
Ender's Game Alternate EndingAlternate Ending to Enders Game
Ender brought the cocoon of the queen back to his fellow humans. He allowed the queen to tell her story to everyone. When they all had heard the queens explanation, they took pity on their former enemies, and turned on their hero, Ender Wiggin.
How could he wipe out an entire race, a race which he completely misunderstood? It was his fault that a race of misunderstood beings were killed. They decided to put him on trial, for the genocide of the buggers.
The trial went on for months. Back on Earth, everyone was following the trial obsessively. They all wanted to see Ender pay for his crime. After several months of Enders being on trial, they sentenced him to be banished to a cabin 18 miles from their small community. His wife, Tammy, chose to go with him. Every week or so, Val would sneak over to his cabin to visit him.
One day, as she was over having lunch
A Conversation With God I woke up at 8:59 am. I still had about an hour before I needed to get up to catch my 2:00 plane, so I decided I'd sleep for another half hour or so. So I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
I didn't wake up half an hour later. I didn't even wake up an hour later. I awoke at 12:45 pm. As I gazed at the clock, it took me a moment to register what I was seeing. I then cursed at the top of my lungs, and sprung out of bed.
I ran around my run down apartment throwing on clothes and throwing stuff into my suitcase. I actually tripped over my suitcase once, giving my ankle a pretty bad sprain. When I was finally all packed and ready, I tried to run out to my car, but with my sprained ankle, I probably looked like a freak, with my uneven steps.
I drove, speeding to the Airport and got there at about 1:45. I already had my ticket with me, so that was ok. But when I got to the bag check in line, th
Long Lake Camp is the Best Because of the performing arts camp, Long Lake Camp, I have learned more than ever about doing what I love to do: Acting. My grandfather found LLC by complete accident. He found it on a popup. He asked me if I wanted to go, and I was extremely hesitant. Im a really shy person at times, and I didnt know hoe LLC would suit me. My grandfather kind of forced me to go there, and I agreed to go two sessions. When I got there, it was probably one of the most uncomfortable moments in my entire life. Everyone knew everyone, and because I was one of the new campers, I was completely at a loss of what to do. But in only a couple of days, however, I started to realize that not only was I starting to absolutely become obsessed with LLC, but that I was at home. Yes, this line sounds a bit corny, but its true. Did you know that LLC produces more shows in one summer than Broadway does all year? And there are three wonderful theatres on campus. But it
UzgunuzÜzgünüz, bu özelliği kullanma izniniz yok. Eğer giriş yapmadıysanız, aşağıdaki formu kullanarak giriş yapabilirsiniz. Eğer üye değilseniz giriş formunun altındaki link yardımı ile üye olunuz ve bütün özellikleri kullanma yetkisini alınız Hikmet adında bir arkadaşım var. Bana bir sır açıkladı. Sana yazayım mı diye çok düşündüm. Yazmakta bir sakınca görmüyorum. Hikmet, bana anlattığı olayı, sınıftaki arkadaşlarımızın duymalarını istemiyor. Ben de ağzımı sıkı tuttum, kimseye bişey söylemedim. Ama sen nasıl olsa Hikmeti tanımıyorsun. Onun anlattıklarını sana yazmakla, bana verdiği sırrı açıklamış olmuyorum. Öyl
A Broken Promise It was a beautiful summer day, and Mrs. Cole was standing at the sink in her kitchen, chopping onions and looking out of the window over the sink. In the faint reflection of the window, Mrs. Cole could see her plate displaying Jesus Christ hanging on her wall. This particular plate was something of a comfort, or a luxury on which Mrs. Cole depended. Being a mother and a housewife, she spent at least 7 hours a day in her sparkling kitchen. Whether she was cleaning, cooking, or talking to her friend on the phone, whenever she felt alone, or upset, she would look up at Jesus and feel like she was safe.
Despite the beautiful weather, Mrs. Cole was not entirely happy. Even as she looked at her Christ plate, she couldnt find anything to pacify her furious breathing. She shook her long blonde hair that so many women envied out of her face and returned to chopping onions.
Her seven year old daughter
Real Monologue When I was in about 3rd grade, most people thought I was weird because I worked at the local homeless shelter. Why do you want to hang around those low-lives? they would always ask me. I never could really tell them right there, because the reason was such a private experience. It was nothing I was embarrassed about, but it was just something that was my own personal experience. Its just that one day I was walking along feeling sorry for myself because my parents wouldnt let me have a friend over to stay the night. But then I walked by this area that was extremely dirty, and from out of nowhere this guy just sits up from beneath all of these card-board boxes. Beard down to his chest, hair dirty and down his back. But it was his eyes. It was something about his eyes. As I looked into them, I almost saw myself. I could almost relate to the emotion that was in his eyes. I didnt know what to think, so I just took off running. I ran and
Stage Door Short Story Wow said Kim. I cant believe we have to go downstairs to do the stupid read through. It was Saturday afternoon, and Kim was in theatre rehearsal for the play Stage Door. She was playing Terry, the main role, and new she had about 300 lines to memorize.
The main reason Kim didnt want to go downstairs was because it was about a hundred degrees down there. The basement of the theatre had a bunch of heating pipes running through it, so it constantly felt like you were in a sauna.
Come on said Kims partner, Joe. Itll just take a few hours.
Yeah, only a few hours of sweating like a pig. Lets just try and get this over with as soon as possible. Kim knew Joe was just being optimistic. Thats the way he always was, which was one of the things about him that annoyed Kim.
Kim and Joe c
A Burdened Child I dont know what to do. How can I tell him? How can I tell my own father that hes an alcoholic? Will he understand? Will he hit me? The problem is that someone has got to tell him. Mom cant do it. She just doesnt care. Its not that shes an alcoholic, but she has her own problems that I cant even begin to try to help her with. My brother Web cant tell him. Hes only nine, and how could he understand at such a young age? Is there anyone else who could tell him? It just has got to be done. He gets drunk every night, every day, even at work! Hell surely get fired soon. He a surveyor! He gets drunk on the job, and hes a goddamned surveyor! For one thing, surveying is a dangerous job as it is. Second off, theyre not going to keep paying a drunk. Whatll happen if he gets fired? Moms only a teacher at a public school, which isnt going to earn her enough money to support herself, her
09-11....I Can Still Remember If one closes their eyes and thinks long and hard, they can still remember.
They can still remember the glory that graced the New York skyline before the dreaded 11th day of September in the year of 2001 when hell burst through the skies, and rent the world into ruin and sorrow. Families were broken, hearts were shattered, and nothing would ever be the same again. The security of our nation was never again taken for granted. We thought we were safe forever....then, we realized we weren't. Because we are the most powerful nation in the world, we thought no one would ever do us any harm. We though we were invincible. We thought were like the Titanic...unsinkable.
The towers fell, they crashed to the ground, and the rubble filled the streets. People were trapped beneath it, and many cried out for help, but sometimes, no help would come to them. The steel was wrenched in all sorts of ways...it was the skeleton of the towers, an
nueve.Die Frage ist jetzt, was ich an einer Frau eigentlich liebe. Soll ich es einmal komplett auflisten, so richtig von A bis Z? Voilà:
a) Die geschwungene Linie, mit der sich die Taille zu den Hüften verbreitet.
b) Die Art, wie sie ein Leben lang das gleiche Herz durch die Welt trägt.
c) Eine Frau besteht aus zirka zwei Quadratmeter Haut (Grössenvergleich: Mein Bett ist 90 cm breit und 1.8 Meter lang, was eine Liegefläche von 1.62 Quadratmetern ergibt. Aus einer Frauenhaut liesse sich daher mühelos ein Bettanzug schneidern – plus passendem Nachttischlampenschirm aus den Abfallstücken).
d) Eine Frau ist etwas, in das man sich so hinein verlieben kann.
e) Diese Augen, die mich so elend machen.
f) Die Hände mit den zehn Fingern drauf.
g) Die Stimme am Telefon.
h) Der Hall ihrer Schritte.
i) Das Echo ihrer Gedanken in meinem Kopf.
j) Der Schmerz und die Traurigkeit – die Sandkörner im Meer des Lebens –, die sich in ihrem Innern zu
Descriptive PortraitureYour eagerness to begin our first day together, in person, was as bright and warm as the golden California sunshine that crept playfully into your window. You waited to wake me only for as long as you could stand to, then tousled my hair and spoke to my jetlag-stricken self in singsong until I stirred.
Your own tresses, unbrushed, fell flawlessly around your face and onto your pajamas-clad shoulders as you responded to a few e-mails on your laptop. In mid-dress, I whipped out my camera and sneaked a picture. You mock-fumed when you heard the shutter click.
"Don't worry," I reassured you. "I won't post it anywhere."
But I did, and thank goodness you were forgiving. It was too perfect not to share. Even my smarting eyes could tell that your face had expressed the utmost joy and serenity.
* * *
That blue-and-white-striped Hollister shirt had been a staple in your wardrobe for nearly a year and a half since your eighteenth birthday. I remember that, when I wanted to feel near to you,
DaddyI can count on two hands how many words I said to you today.
I say two hands because I like rounding up.
Remember when I used to pretend to be asleep in the car on the way home from Grandma’s so you’d have to carry me into the house when we got back? It wasn’t always you carrying me, sometimes Mom or Matt did, but I’m sure you knew that I was faking it and you happened to like carrying me just as much as I liked to be your little passenger.
Fake sleeping was something I did a lot, and I’m sure you knew every time that I did. I faked it so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed so soon in the morning.
I faked it so I could sit in my room until dinner had long since got cold and you’d gotten tired of calling for me. You don’t wake a napping child; it’s far too hard to get one to nap so you just let them be.
Though you always knew when I was faking sleep, I doubt you ever knew the times I did because I was feeling guilty.
Crystal of Dreams I enter the little shop, and it catches my eye immediately. That crystal, so square in its pointedness, so blue in its paleness, I know that crystal, I am sure of it, for I have seen it many times before. I can still remember when first I saw it, in fact.
I was lazing one day by the riverside, under a large green leaf for shade, when I heard the sound of something approaching, like a boat paddling up the river. What I saw though, glimpsed through the twisted vines, was no boat though. It was some sort of serpent, or large eel, with grey leathery skin, with it's neck stretched upward and its head towering over the tall jungle trees. It was moving quickly, unnaturally so for something of such a size, splashing me with a great torrent of water as it passed by, so that I only saw for a moment that a solitary figure, human probably, sat atop its head, and that it was being followed by some sort of black flock, or swarm, though those horrible things could be calle
28. The True Journal of a Fake 'Communist'3/5/72
Pretty much has happened between 'then' and now, though the stuff I considered heavy was manufactured internally and kept there for the most part. The heavy head trips happened mostly around Sam, one of the people who brought Winnie and Nancy from Chicago. I found after a spell that I was attracted to Sam--enjoyed laughing with him and also was thinking about what it would be like to sleep with him. It was all very obscure though because Sam and Judy have been married 6 and a 1/2 years (though they argued a lot) and it was the old third party routine. It got to where I wanted to talk to Sam about it, but didn't in the very few opportunities to discuss it alone. I couldn't bring myself to be so bold as to say "I want to sleep with you," which couldn't have happened anyway without everyone knowing.
It was strange with his wife too. She kept saying such things to me as "Of all the people here, Sam seems to get along with you the best. I wish you'd try to
Get the Cat in the HouseGet the Cat in the House
May 30, 2013 around 1 o’clock P.M. I’m in the kitchen fixing drinks for my Mother and I after we had gotten home from helping a friend run a few errands. Just as I’ve finished pouring my drink I hear a meow come from our door, I normally would not pay attention to it considering we have quite a few feral cats running around our yard. This meow was higher pitched and fainter sounding as opposed to the normal lower pitched and fuller sound that you come to expect from an adult cat. I head over to the door to see which feral cat is out there. I look through the glass and to my surprise I see this little white kitten through our sitting right in front of the door.
“What the heck a white kitten! None of our feral cats are white enough to have a white kitten.” I’m in shock at seeing this little kitten since the feral cats in our yard are orange, black, and gray with some white patches mixed in bu
27. The True Journal of a Fake 'Communist'2/13/72
Well I ended out having a pitiful night last night. After I quit thinking complicated thoughts about being alone, I lit yet another cigarette and settled down on the bed at the window to watch the street, expecting to see either Celia or Diana and company. I watched every VW drive by, examining it for Celia, and sometimes closed my eyes to tray and relax but just felt waves of anguish, so watched the street. By 10:00 my arms fell asleep from me leaning on them and I stared at the wall, rehearsing what I'd say to Diana when she came home.
About 10:30 she came in alone and knew right away I was totally bummed out, and gave me all kinds of sympathy, so I didn't say mush at all. Then her friends arrived and I got a comforting word from each one--I guess I looked pretty fucked up, and Diana said why. I looked out the window again, but at 1:00 gave it up and went to bed.
This morning I went shopping with Jean and Diana, still not very togethe
Another worldShe rested her head on the plane window and let the electric guitars and screaming vocals flood her ears. The drums pounded away, and the dark, melodic vocals soothed her grieving soul. Her blue eyes surveyed the air around her; she longed to see someone. Even if it wasn't possible, she dreamed of seeing him. A crash of the symbols and a final riff collided in her eardrums, signaling a grand finale. As the vocalist screamed at the top of his lungs, she watched the world around her fall, as she slipped into another world.
She traveled to this dimension, eyelids heavy from her journey, and sleep embraced her peacefully.
But still he haunts her dreams.
Mi autobiografia espanolHola. Me llamo es Jack King. Vivo en Cashiers North Carolina. Estoy en la escuela de Tilton, y es una muy buena escuela. Yo conversando con mi novia que se llama Natalia Reichman. Ella es muy bonita, interesante, y muy buena en la clase de arte. Pienso ella es la mejor artista en el mundo. Tenemos mucho en común. Hablamos por teléfono casi todos los días. Me gusta actuar, cantar, y esquí. Yo no soy buena que en la escuela, pero yo soy un duro trabajador. Vivo con mis abuelos porque mis padres tenían problemas. A veces no me gusta mis abuelos porque son muy ambiciosos conmigo
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More