I struggle to get on my knees and look around. Apparently I'm not alone. Six ratlike creatures lie around me. if I look further I can see an enourmous tail that leads to an enourmous ratbutt which seems to be stuck between an opening in the wall. Is that? Mother?
'No way.' Ah, I spoke. Judging by the gross, moist ground between us and the butt, and my fur that feels as if it was slimy before and now dry and a bit hard, yes, this is mother. Besides that, wow, I'm a rat. I guess. honestly not really sure why that's such a big of a deal, but the reaction seems apropriate. Get over it.
I inspect the rest of the room. It seems that mother locked off the only exit. Lucky for us I suppose since I don't know what's out there in the (maybe) wide world. Furthermore The room is quite big and there is a huge green fucking glowing rock hanging from the ceiling! None of the knoledge I have could've prepared me for this. No knoledge of waking up as a rat in a big dungeonlike room with a big glowing rock. Colour me confused.
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Though I'm a bit wobly from just being born it doesn't take me long to get the hang of it. As I get close to the rock I notice that there's a liquid flowing from out a hole that connects under it in a kind of dome that must've arised as time passed. Somehow, for some reason. Not like that's the important part of this situation. I draw near and as I come close to the stone I'm scared by a
Title Day 1: I open my eyes, sitting up straight, only to realize that everything is turned 90 degree to the right… Next to us, a yellow school bus lies on its side. Pieces of glass scatters everywhere. Black smokes exit the cranky engine, traverse up to the height of an oak tree, then dissipate into the blue sky.
The mother was seen in the office today by me again. It was a result of my calling her up yesterday that she showed up. Her dress was very simple, not what I espected at all. She seem ambivalent about coming to see me – didn’t know what I was going to do I guess. Most of the time we talked about Charlie.
It’s been 8 long months since I last saw your darling face. I long to hold you close in my arms one more time. Sadly my dear, that may be the last time I ever embrace you. You see things here in the God-Forbidden trenches are so grotesque that men are dying left and right. They have even resorted to burying them in the walls, making an awful stench.
POV: SteveI never seen Sodapop look so...gloomy. He was always the happier one of the bunch, but ever since our gang has fallen...with deaths. First it was Johnny and Dally, then Darry and Ponyboy. His own brothers. Two-Bit was off somewhere with his children.
Hi, Im Keitoro, I 'd like to tell you the story of how I died. You may wonder why am I telling you the story of my death. confusing yeah?you’ll find out. so let’s go back to the start. I 'm 16 years old average boy, no girlfriend, and truly lonely.
Later I would find out that was not the only reason he worked that god-forsaken job. "Pretty good game huh? " I asked. "I haven't been watching but I've been listening. It sounds like our defense is playing better than they have been," Roman said as he continued to scrape.
Hello, beautiful people! Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of Confessions of an Inspirationalist! I couldn 't be more grateful for all of my dreamcatchers as well as those who have been supporting me from the beginning. This journey has given me an open doorway to inspire people I 've never even met from all over the world- that 's something I 've only dreamed of doing.
It was quiet when I first walked in. No other customers, just me and the rebel barber, the summer heat only making me long for a cool drink. He began to shake. Maybe he believed he could conceal the slight tremble in his hands.
To understand life one must understand death. As God gives life, there is The Phantom to take it away. People tend to fear things they don 't understand, and they don 't they People fear death.
INTRO I have done it. I have brought upon the death of another man! I have blood upon my hands. For that I feel I should have changed but desperation has replaced the sorrow I feel for my actions.
The smooth taste of the wood smothered my lips as I echoed a song throughout my wooden flute. The city streets around me were dirty and loud, but I could only hear my flute above the rustle and bustle. I played sweet mishmashes of medleys, getting lost in the gentle noise, when suddenly I noticed someone, or rather something watching my performance. A small kitten was sitting in front of me attentatively watching with its amber eyes fixated on the flute I held. I paused my playing and looked at the cat puzzled.
Okay. The food will be ready at 8. Don't be late. How could you tell Karabo that you were cheating on Simphiwe with me?
Chapter One My sold out tour has come to a close and I’m getting drunk in some upscale New York nightclub. There is loud music, plenty of booze, and people are dancing all over one another. There is a girl passed out in one of the red booths and the lights are flashing green and blue all around the large dark room. I’m off to the left of the bar dancing to the beat of the music with some random blonde I’ve never met before.
James Joyce’s Ulysses is widely recognised and celebrated as being one of the most influential works of literature, and was previously described as “a demonstration and summation of the entire [modernist] movement” by Beebe in 1971. Throughout the over 700 page “epic”, Joyce follows a day in the life of numerous Dubliners such as Stephen Dedalus (whom we may have first encountered in Joyce’s earlier novel; A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man), and advertising campaigner Leopold Bloom, along with many others. Due to the vast array of characters and their associated perspectives, we are subjected to Joyce’s infamous use of “interior monologue”, resulting in what undoubtedly becomes somewhat of a chaotic (and notoriously difficult to read)
His recollective monologues depict the multitudinous thoughts and feelings which pass through his mind. Both narrators can be theoretically analysed through the psychological theory of solipsism. Defined as “the view that the self is all that can be known to exist”, the theory suggests that each individual is an image created through one 's own mind. The theory can be directly pinpointed without the novel, through quotes such as “I need you, the reader, to imagine us, for we don 't really exist if you don 't.” Some Philosophers argue that the self is the only real and independent reality we know, and we cannot be sure that other individuals actually exists outside of our own minds (this is know as metaphysical solipsism). By this principle,