Narrative Essay On Scavengers

Are you afraid of sharks? Because I am terrified of them. Weirdly enough this short story has nothing to do with sharks. This short story is called The Truth about Sharks written by Joan Bauer. It was an early morning when Beth got woken up by her alarm. It was her Uncle Al’s birthday party and beth needed to get pants. When Beth got to the mall she walked by Madge P. Groton the stocky, ugly security guard. Beth started to try on pants when she went to get another size and that when the trouble started. When she went to look for pants the security guard thought she was stealing and called the cops. When the cops arrested her she said she had evidence to show the cop that she didn´t steal. When she showed the cop the helper in the store and

In the short essay, The Price We Pay, Adam Mayblum writes about being in North Tower during 9/11 terrorist attacks. He talks about what he thought was going how and how they got out. This short paper started out as an email that he was sending to a friend. He then had it published online and it essentially went viral. While reading the passage, I found myself very intrigued with how everyone inside had no idea what was happening. Which was something I never thought about. As being someone inside, you wouldn’t know what’s happening, which makes a lot of sense.

Numerous types of lighting were exposed in Jaws. The natural light makes the pictures more accurate. The capability to adjust the vividness makes the frightening parts even creepier. It lets the viewers to recognize that the shark is routing towards somebody. Pair of methods are negative space, darkness, lighting for serenity. Negative space present every time the shark is approaching. Darkness space aids to generate a frightened environment. While lighting is used also for

I couldn’t believe it at the first sight, but it’s happening at a clear distance. I approached the asphalt road and looked up in horror. Massive flames enclosed the church building on Jay Mountain. My mind kept telling me that it was only a mirage, but this seemed to real. I acted extremely fast without even thinking. That all happened at a blink which surprised me a little. I heard screams as I grabbed my notebook and rushed up the hill.

The book “I Survived the Shark Attack” is a thrilling fictional tale about a boy who got attacked by a shark and survived. This tale is based on shark attacks in the summer of 1916. The story takes place in New Jersey in a small city called Elm Hills near the atlantic ocean.

People say a picture is worth a thousand words. Just about every picture has rhetorical elements incorporated into their design. In this case, the well-crafted poster for Steven Spielberg’s film, Jaws, implements the use of ethos, pathos and logos in an attempt to get its audience to see the film.

Chief of Police is a title given to an appointed official or an elected one in the chain of command of a police department. In both Jaws the movie, Directed by Steven Spielberg, and the novel Jaws, written by Peter Benchley, Martin Brody is a middle aged man who is happily married and a father of two. As a long time officer of the NYPD, Brody advances his policing career by being offered a job as Chief of Police on Amity Island; Brody discovers that “with great power comes great responsibility,” as he quickly realises that his power and his responsibility to protect the public as the newly appointed police chief is being undermined by the local people, a great white shark, and even himself. To combat these challenges,

Well in both movies as you can see the animal seems in control of the people like in jaws the shark seem to be really smart because everything that the Capitan Quint try to do to the shark seem like a game for the white shark because he was in control at that moment. But it was impossible to kill the smart shark because I think he knew every move that they did to try to kill the shark. Else I think he knew the island around him because he knew were the people went or when they were in the water.

Jaws follows the police chief Brody, along with scientist Hooper and shark hunter Quint, in their attempt to protect the town of Amity against a Great White shark that is terrorising beachgoers. It was adapted from Peter Benchley’s 1974 novel of the same name.

“Cathedral” is a short and warm story written by Raymond Carver. The author portrays the story in the first person narrative. Carver presents the interaction between an unnamed couple and a blind man by the name of Robert, who is visiting them. The story is told by the husband, the narrator, who is a prejudiced, jealous, and insecure man with very limited awareness of blindness. This theme is exposed through Carver’s description of the actions of the narrator whose lack of knowledge by stereotyping a blind man. However, the story takes an unpredicted and meaningful turn at the end when the narrator see things from a blind man’s standpoint.

It was 1754 in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, during the French and Indian war. We were all eating Mama’s homemade muffins, which I, Emma, am sure the President would be awestruck by if he had some .Just then, Mama came down the wooden stairs carrying baby James. We all laughed and chatted as a family should, but that was soon to change. As I turned to the fireplace to get another cup of water, I saw a dark figure endeavoring to escape out the back door. 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.

The faint buzzing of an old street light in the distance was the only sound that filled the air. The loud dogs that paced yellow lawns and fenced in porches were deep asleep. It was as melancholy as it could get. My hand trembled, I looked down at the paper weapon clasped between my fingers. I lifted my hand and pressed the cold cigarette to my chapped lips, long ago accepting the fact that I 'd never remember the taste of his mouth, in the same way I didn 't remember the last time my life wasn 't anything more than a huge fucking shit show. With my other hand I clicked the lighter to life. The hot flickering flame danced in front of my watery ocean blue eyes, which were long dulled by all the loss and pain they 've been through. My eyes fell

The wind whipped past my head as I pushed myself faster. I could see the break in the trees up ahead, the sun shining on the poppy field through the small opening. I ran as fast as my legs would travel, my heart beating out of my chest. I could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer. My lungs were about to give out, my hips were burning from the running and my feet were starting to swell in my boots. I glanced behind me and only see the thick brush and shrubs, i slow down a pace to catch my breath but quickly pick up speed. I am so close to the field i can smell the sweet aroma of Poppy and buttercups.

Imagine a life where everything seems to revolve around one important element. And just as everything seems to be going well, it all changes within a matter of seconds. In the novel Shark Girl by Kelly Bingham, the protagonist, Jane Arrowood, had to experience this. She had a strong passion for drawing, but she was required to have her dominant arm amputated because of a shark attack. As she recovered slowly in the hospital, she showed her true inner strength when she learned to draw and write with her other hand. When I read this book I connected with Jane by being reminded of all the roadblocks I’ve hit during my basketball career, and I noticed there were learning experiences from Jane’s actions on how to conquer the journey of recovery.

With a blast of eastward wind it spread, like a rumor between two housewives on a rainy Saturday afternoon. With a terrible bellow it raced down streets jumping bridges and climbing from roof to roof like jack frost in winter. Down the streets it rolled sending everyone scurrying like mice to get out of the path of the beast. It was as harsh as an argument that causes one to slam a door. Hoarding everything just to destroy it like a Viking pillaging just to waste his spoils. It rumbled down paths consuming leaves like papers in a furnace being destroyed by the flames. It sent one to scramble with their belongings to the safety of the water, rolling through hills licking up the grass and stripping away the contents of buildings leaving behind