After my third or fourth Boilermaker, I needed to get some air and quiet from all the noise and perfume smells that were beating the crap out of me from all angles. I had taken no more than a few steps out of the restaurant and bar’s side door leading into an alleyway when some drunken woman stumbled into me. How did I know she was drunk? I’m six feet six and two-hundred and seventy pounds and was moving very slow. “Sorry,” she slurred. “I didn’t see you standing there.” “Are you Ok,” I asked, genuinely concerned. “What are you, some fucking comedian!” she snapped. “Don’t you know who the hell I am shit head? You better watch your ass. Now that I get a good look at you, you’re one large fucking huge ass teddy bear. I had always wondered if it was actually true about big men with big feet. And, by those two large ass boats you’re …show more content…
“Killer lips and a third leg. Seeing it coming out the other fucking end was a joke,” she slurred, seriously then kissed me again, but still hadn’t let go of my… “I know that I fucking joke too much some damn time, but I’m not that fucking funny. Damn boy, you can hurt a girl and she’ll fucking love your large teddy bear ass for it.” She kissed me one last time, did one last package check of the family jewels, and patted me on my butt before she stumbled to the limo’s door being held open by the chauffeur. I moved out of the way and watched the limo take off down the alley barely missing the group of Paparazzi running towards me. Next thing I know, I was being pulled back into the bar and sat in the corner of a booth with several Boilermakers lined up on the table and the guys blocking anyone from seeing me. The woman was right. The bar was flooded with Paparazzi until the bouncers kicked them out. Well, I had many plaid shirts and thank the bouncer for the tee-shirt, hat and dark glasses with the bar’s logo on
“You need a lift someplace?” I asked her. Her body, her face, and her eyes
Jane and her mother walk into Dilliard’s. The entrance they walk in happens to be in the makeup and perfume department. When Jane smells all the different perfumes at one time, this overloads her processing system and she begins to shut down. However, Jane has been working with an occupational therapist and they have been using different strategies to help Jane stay calm during this process.
Maggie on the other hand, is characterized by her unattractiveness and timidity. Her skin is scarred from the fire that had happened ten or twelve years ago. Those scars she has on her body in the same way have scarred her soul leaving her ashamed. She “stumbles” in her reading, but Mrs. Johnson loves her saying she is sweet and is the daughter she can sing songs at church with, but more so that Maggie is like an image of her. She honors her family’s heritage and culture, by learning how to quilt and do things in the household, like her mother views their heritage.
Groggy from lack of sleep, trying to erase the images of gray-bearded men sitting on their new mid-life crisis Harleys, speedboats, and red sports cars from her mom’s dating sites, Mae filled her water bottles while strong coffee brewed. She stared, mesmerized by the beautiful whiteness of the French vanilla creamer as it swirled to the surface in dreamy affection to her anticipated waking. She downed what she could, poured the rest into her travel mug and dashed out the door at the ungodly hour of 6 am. Since her mom needed the car today, she trekked the five blocks to Greg’s house on foot. He would just have to appreciate her “sporty” scent without complaints.
The Short Story ‘To Build a Fire ‘by. Jack London is about man vs. nature. The story takes place in Yukon, Canada, east of Alaska. It’s so cold your spilt is ice before it hits the ground. Temperature from 25degress to -75 it can cause your flesh to freeze.
“Then it’s a deal.” “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you again, Levi. Please do drop by again.” “Don’t sweat it, pal. Next time I come back, I’ll bring some furs with me.
When she was at the shop, a man walks in wearing a “stained blanket pulled up to his chin” who smells of “stale cigarettes and urine” (7). This graphic description of the man instills a feeling of disgust in the audience. He stands there until a “moody French woman” walks towards him and handing him “steaming coffee in a Styrofoam cup, and a small paper bag” of what is perhaps a croissant. He accepts the food and leaves the bread shop. Just like she did in the preceding anecdotal narrative she question why the woman demonstrated this act of compassion.
When she’s alone, she feels fine because there is nobody to judge her. She made up her mind to write about her own story when she falls in the women’s room. The author writes “the building deserted, I was free to laugh aloud as I wriggled back to my feet, my voice bouncing off the yellowish tiles from all directions. Had anyone been there with me, I’d have been still and faint and hot with chagrin. I decided that it was high time to write the essay” (20).
“The gun on the floor. Bending to pick it up. The noise that exploded around us. This is what I know about myself. She was all I wanted.
Mama, a “big boned woman with rough, man-working hands,” awaits her daughter’s (Dee) return in the literary piece Everyday Use (70). When returning home, Dee’s only mission was to ask for two specific quilts with hopes of hanging her heritage on display. Ordinarily Maggie, Dee’s sister, was once a bright, generous, young girl with abundant potential. Explicitly, one day, Maggie was damaged significantly in a fire in which transformed her entire life. The fire turned a once intelligent, social undeveloped girl into a terrified, hopeless juvenile, along with the failed assistance of her family.
I hear something in the distance, I grab Jackie’s hand and hide behind a tree. We both peek our heads out on the sides, curious and scared on who or what we are about to see. Two horses trott by, pulling a stagecoach. I gasp when I see the people inside.
In her early years, Maggie underwent the devastation of a fire. In a result of that, she acquired an inexperienced education and an awkward, introverted mentality. Maggie bacame a burn victim in consequence of the fire and had countless
It is about 9 P.M. on the 25th of May. Light rain is trickling down. Blanche, Allan, and Robert, his old friend, arrive at the Moon Lake Casino. They drive past a lake and onto the sidewalk, where Blanche grinds Allan’s car to a halt. They stagger out of the vehicle and Allan and Robert’s faces are full of glee, as they giggle uncontrollably.
The short story “Miss Brill” is very relatable and real. Like Mandel Miriam attempts to explain, “Miss Brill” contains more figurative language rather than actions. In particular, it explains that “Miss Brill” depends generally on images of sense and sound, but the senses of taste and touch are also displayed, “a faint chill, like a chill from a glass of iced water before you sip… She felt a tingling in her hands and arms”
A memorable and heavenly man aroma filled the air. The smell of cherry, wintergreen, apple, and butternut flavoured pipe and tobacco smoke mixed with the scent of hair tonics, pomades, oils, and neck powders. These aromas became ingrained in the wood and every cranny of the shop. The moment a man stepped inside, he was enveloped in the warm and welcoming familiarity. He was immediately able to relax, and as soon as the hot lather hit his face, his cares would simply melt away.”