For a brief moment, miles away from the eyes of god, time itself stood still. And the singing birds went silent in their canopies, and the gentle licks of a passing breeze abated, as if the entire world, save Gatsby, knew. Knew that, like an old timepiece, the gears within the depths of George Wilson’s being had long since begun to fragment, and with the urgency of newfound knowledge, he had only one thought on his mind. Certainly, as he glided towards Gatsby’s mansion—and ultimately, into the foliage that surrounded it— Wilson’s breathing was neither slow nor rapid, nor shallow nor heavy, but rather, it fluctuated with an unrelenting attitude, and trapped between immense grief and rage, he carried himself dangerously with each step.
Catcher in the rye I was sitting in my dorm room doing nothing but fiddling with my baseball glove, my brother Allie 's baseball glove in fact, when Ackley barged in through the shower curtain. In a teasing manner I greeted him as “Ackley boy” which he was not to thrilled to here. “Hey Ackley boy what did you come over here for?” At first I didn 't think he had heard me, he was just walking around the room picking up and messing around with Stradlater’s books on the desk.
It 's been days that I 've been feeling like I 'm not myself. Although I think I know the reason why I have a been feeling this way, the lack of stimulus, human interaction or the convenience of being able to light a room with a push of a button. I found myself looking for things that I end up not needing. Maybe it 's paranoia that if I cannot feel when I reach for it, it will be forever lost in the darkness. Looking out the window before it gets dark, I saw my neighbor sweeping the road in front of her house over and over again.
Monday through Friday I stayed with my grandmother and great aunt, so that I could go to school. I was in elementary school at the time. I use to listen to my uncle play different types of music on his stereo so that he could mimic the sound with the instruments he was playing. I used to sing along with him dreaming that one day I would be able to sing just like the singers on the albums my uncle would play to. As time went on, my mother met a man that she felt was a good man.
Hi, it 's nice to meet you. My name is August White and I 'm just your typical teenager living a very dull and average life. There 's nothing really interesting to know about me. I 'm 14-years old, I 'm an only child, I like reading and writing books, I live with my parents in New York, etc.
Recently I had the honor of shadowing the acclaimed screenwriter Charlie Kaufman as he brings to life Ted Chiang’s “Story of Your Life” now titled Rings in Time. A soon to be a blockbuster hit that is out of this word. It should be on everyone must watch list this Oscar season. Before I began my work with Mr. Kaufman I had the pleasure of reading the original work by Ted Chiang.
When I met Tom, I found in him great visions and ambitions that we both shared, I felt relief due to the fact that I did not have to live this life alone in the empty swamp, where only misery, hatred, abandonment and wretchedness lived. Notwithstanding, it only took a short time being together to regret having married a man as miserable as Tom Walker. I endured his lies, cheating, his lack of attention and I resisted all his personal interests. Our days became bitter and fill of conflicts, but I did not leave, I did not send him away either, only for the reason that of all the people I have been, of all the names I have had, and of all the lives that I have lived, this is the first that I am accompanied.
I hump back and forth viscously at my tootsie roll teddy bear repeatedly and then I hear, “What are you doing? Who taught you that?!” A voice of panic from my mom. i am eight years of age and I stay shut something my eyes can’t do as they release far more words than I can possibly express.
“Ahh, a nice warm bed with no worries anymore,” I thought as I dozed off to sleep. Then I was being forced roughly out of the window I came through, and throne on the ground. “ We got you now boy, and we know it was you who took the pistol.” Dewberry Wallace spa.