Morning Star
Selene nervously walked around her orbit. She had just enough time to make herself beautiful. She colored her pale cheeks with a little of stardust, then she looked at herself in the ocean mirror, the image that came back to her couldn’t be better. She was brilliant!
She called her assistant; she wanted to see how her new cloak fit for the special occasion.
She shouted again, Morning Star must be far away because apparently she couldn’t hear her. Meanwhile, she tried on some high heels made of gray clouds. The fit perfectly!
She didn’t want to grow inpatient due to of Morning Star’s delay; she leaned out a little trying to see her. The guests started to arrive and took strategic places waiting for the beginning of the event.
The sun was setting and Morning Star… was nowhere to be seen.
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The following week we would return to our polluted city.
I didn’t see my little sheep for two days. I heard my father say that the weather was changing and that it would benefit us.
The next day, my mother woke us up in a rush. She asked us after she made us put on something warm, to go out to the yard.
Our eyes were filled with a marvelous and uncommon view.
My mom told me that it was snowing, but it wasn’t, I looked up to the sky and a saw a cloud that looked like a little sheep. I convinced myself that the sheep’s wool was being cut and that wool fleeces were falling down shaped as white snowflakes.
A long time ago
Hilda ran away when she noticed that the soda banner was about to fall. She couldn’t get away from danger, and the word thirst hit her head strongly, causing her a mild concussion. That bled a bit.
The letter H, a little scared, detached itself from the word, and went to help the little girl. Hilda felt a little cold hand going through her forehead making her feel better immediately and saving her one trip to the
(NAME) awoke a few hours later, nuzzling against the solid warmth in front of her. She pondered why her pillow was so solid, and mumbled something incoherent as she prised open her eyes. Oh. That's not her pillow.
"Eight!" I said and as I said it the door opened. We all turned and we saw a woman standing in the doorway, a small, black haired women, rather old, who stood there for about two seconds then rushed forward shouting" (9). Suspense was created because the boy was so close to winning the bet when the lady came into the room and no one, had no idea who was coming in the door and why she was shouting. It was confusing for everyone as to why she even came in the room.
I deliberately tried to believe that my eyes were tricking me, but in reality we were in a perilous situation. Distraught, I heard Mama’s calm and, placid voice turn to a rough cough. The house was on fire! Papa yelled to me. “Go to the meadow!
Her hand not steady, Mrs. Hale raised the piece of silk. “Oh, Mrs. Peters!” She cried. “It’s-”. Mrs. Peters bent closer.
Although Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie and Elie Wiesel’s Night could be considered two very different novels, one could argue that the two books also have similarities. Both novels teach amazing lessons to anyone who reads them. One main theme in Tuesdays with Morrie and Night is inhumanity. Although the main characters of both novels were given two very different circumstances, both main characters become extremely familiar with inhumanity. Mitch Albom’s Tuesdays with Morrie and Elie Wiesel’s Night both touch on the subject of humanity and inhumanity when it comes to family, how one is treated by surrounding people, and diseases.
She had never before seen the meadow by moonlight. They lay serene and still, wrapped in thin veils of drifting mist. She found the path quite easily. … ‘Hannah dear,’ she said, struggling to control her panting breath. ‘Wake up! ‘Tis Kit.
A small bobtail cat padded down a grassy hill to a small stream of water. She leaned down and lapped up the water, drawing it into her mouth with her pink tongue. She paused as she saw something over the horizon, sat up, and watched curiously as a dense fog began to creep over the hill. Intrigued she stands up and watches it intently as it gets closer and closer. She pads towards it to get a better view of it when suddenly parts of the vision she had days earlier flashed before her eyes.
It was an early December morning. The roads were slick with a thin layer of ice. The air was crisp with a winter chill and there was a slight drizzle falling from the sky. I was riding in my dad’s truck to my grandma’s, who babysat me while my parents were at work. My little brother Kaden was also with us.
In Part Three of The Warmth of Other Suns, Isabel Wilkerson uses the poem Exodus from The Cleveland Advocate and an excerpt from Richard Wright's 12 Million Black Voices to set the tone and context for the harrowing experiences of African Americans during the Great Migration. These words are appropriate because they depict the desperation and determination of African Americans seeking to escape the oppressive conditions of the South. For example, the excerpt from 12 Million Black Voices states, "They packed their belongings in orange crates, said their goodbyes, and went off to cities...," highlighting the resolve of those who embarked on this journey. The manner in which Ida Mae Gladney and George Starling leave the South underscores the
She had a soft mouth, her eyes with their new placid look. She was waiting for her husband to come home from work to make dinner. He finally got home and he said he didn’t want dinner. He told her that he is leaving her but she will be fine.
The drive was almost unbearable, but the thought of spending the week in the snow with family kept me going. It was only a four hour drive, but at 9 years old, it felt like an eternity. The scenery slowly changed from flat land, to rolling hills. The hills were covered in yellow dying grass, but they were still beautiful. Then we started to make the climb.
In July of 1984, Jennifer Thompson, a 22-year-old college student, awoke around 3:00 a.m. to find someone in her apartment. When she asked who was there, a man jumped on her, pinned her arms to the side of her head, put a knife to her throat, and raped her. Despite her terror, she was determined to identify her rapist so he would pay for his crimes. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she used the light coming through her blinds and bedroom window, as well as her nightlight to see if he had any tattoos, scars, unusual jewelry, how he parted his hair, what he was wearing, and anything else that would be useful in identifying him. She made sure that when he allowed her to stand up she stood close to him so she could determine how tall he was.'
In Kate Chopin 's novel The Awakening and the short story “The Story of An Hour” feminist beliefs overshadow the value in moral and societal expectations during the turn of the century. Due to Louise Mallard and Edna Pontellier Victorian life style they both see separating from their husband as the beginning of their freedom. Being free from that culture allows them to invest in their personal interest instead of being limited to what 's expected of them. Chopin 's sacrifices her own dignity for the ideal of society’s expectations. Chopin 's sad, mysterious tone seems to support how in their era, there was a significant lack of women 's rights and freedom of expression.
Growing up as a woman has been quite difficult in this generation, however, growing up around thirty years ago must have been more difficult. Back in the 1900’s, women had different social norms to deal with in society. Women had to stay at home, be housewives, do the laundry, and cook while men went out and worked to obtain money for their family. In Story of an Hour by Kate Chopin, she tells the struggles that women went through back in the 1990 's and the social norms that women had to go through. Chopin addresses many instances of symbolism to portray the feeling Mrs. Mallard has about her own thoughts and experiences with or without a man in her life.
The day was just after my brother’s birthday and we had just finished celebrating his birthday. My brother was more surprised, however, by the amount of snow that covered the yards outside. We both awoke to a sight much more impressive than that of December, a white landscape obscuring everything laying on the ground, including the cars. My brother and I changed faster than firemen getting ready for a rescue, as we ran outside to see the fascinating snow that surrounded our neighborhood.