Personal Narrative-Oak Funeral

Have you ever felt loss so deep that everything you see is different just because that person is gone? In Mother by Ted Kooser the speaker’s mother’s death made his world view more sorrowful. Through this view of the world Kooser uses symbolism, personification, and imagery to show the speaker’s feelings about his mother dying.

It was April 2016 when we were sitting at the dinner table late at night with our family friends. My mom’s phone began to ring. When I saw her reaction, I knew immediately. Her face was pale and she held her hand to her head in disbelief. I knew it was grandpa. Although we knew the death of my grandpa was coming, I never actually wanted to experience the loss. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself, crying continuously.

I never was really close with my grandfather. I’ve pretty much lived in Utah my whole life. I was born in Richland, Washington, but I have no memories of living there because my family moved here, to Utah, when I was two. The majority of my family, from both my mother’s and my father’s side, live in the northwest. I only go to Washington/Oregon maybe once a year. Even when I go I don’t see the majority of my family. Both my mother and my father have had issues with their parents and some of their siblings, which is why we don’t visit most of them. When I was younger, I went to my grandparent’s house in Pasco, Washington every summer. Even then, it was just me, my sister, and my grandmother. My grandfather

Authors use literary devices to help the reader understand the message or theme. Literary devices are a key hint as to what the author is trying to tell the reader instead of just flat out stating the lesson or message. Throughout "Live to Tell", "Refresh, Refresh", and "Man From the South" the author 's use suspense to show the emotions the characters are feeling.

“I’m so sorry. He died at the scene of the wreck. The Truck landed on him and killed him instantly.”

I sat on the porch of my house, overseeing the town. Stamps, or also known as the Black Stamps, had segregation. From schools to shops, everywhere blacks were seen less than whites. It limited what we could do, affecting all of our lives. That apparently, was not abnormal in the United States at the time. Here, is where I was born and will cease to exist.

Sparks of excitement and stress exploded in my body as I opened the door. I took my first step to freedom then sprinted down the stairs almost tripping and falling flat on my face. I ran to nearest train station and hopped onto the back where i curled up in the corner waiting for the long road ahead. I didn’t know where this train was taking me and I didn’t know what I was going to do when I arrived but I knew one thing for sure..I was

I remember a lesson as a young child at six years old about accepting responsibility for my actions. One day while playing baseball with some neighborhood kids, my baseball cap went missing at the playground. Later on that evening I played in a little league baseball game at the local park. One of my teammates left his baseball cap on the bench after the game as he walked away. I decided that I would replace my stolen cap with the cap he left behind. When I got home, my mother asked me about the cap I was wearing. I told her that someone took my cap when I was playing in the playground earlier, and now I have a new cap. My mother took the cap from me, and looked inside to see if there was a name in the cap. The hat had Joey’s name and address

It feels weird writing a part of my life on paper as if I am talking to a person and telling them my thoughts, feelings, and secrets. I am going to tell you who I am.

Dear lady, I was there. He sealed up the envelope and put it in the mailbox, hoping it would some day reach it’s destination. Tim knew something that nobody else knew. Except for one other person. He did not know her name. He barely knew what she looked like. But he had seen her… He had seen her assassinate the president. It was only one day into Tondal Drumps presidency when he had been killed and yet, nobody knew how or why or who killed him. The lady may have been the one with the deadly kill but Tim was in there for the same reason. They wanted Drumps dead.

Dreams, dreams, dreams a concept that people still cannot understand yet encounter every time they close their eyes with their warm grasp of their cotton blanket and count Mary’s little lambs. Soon, they drift off to deep slumber like how a bear sleeps during hibernation and dream of various things. Some may dream of sweets and happiness, some may dream of gold and wealth, and some others have ‘special dreams’ and our hero is one of them. Our soon to be hero sleeps in her small yet comfortable bed with her dog by her side snoring softly. The hero dreams of a nightmare filled with clouds of smog and flames consuming a town whole and as the flames burned and burned, cries and prayers of the villagers could be heard from

Mom was at the store and I was glad to see her. She and Harvey, our hired helper, was the extent of the work force. Saturday was Harvey’s day off but it wouldn’t take long before Hammond his little brother (and my buddy), would come in to see what I was doing. Mom usually let me have some time to go exploring, so when she wasn’t looking I’d sneak a couple Rum Crook cigars from behind the counter and grab a few candy bars – and I was out of there. Me and my buddy would go down by the river underneath the bridge and try to see what was so special about Rum Crooks. After we got green in the face from smokin’ we’d scurry on down to the railroad tracks and put a nickel or penny on them. When the train came past they’d be thin as a sheet of paper

It was never about Christmas, it was about how I changed myself. Before I never had Max, I never lived in that mountain. I never had family or anyone to talk to. I was all alone. I don’t remember that much of the story about why I started hating christmas. The story many Whos’ say about me is based on fear, some things may be true, like how my heart became two sizes too small, and how I actually tried to steal Christmas, this was all me hating myself. However, now I will talk about the real story, with no whos’ alongside with me, this is the true story of how I, the Grinch, stole Christmas.

A few hours after my mother passed, I decided to go home and take out all her clothes; I wanted to remind myself of all the great moments we had. I found her exquisitely shining coarse hair on her blue elegant dress. I could feel her alleviating presence whilst holding her fascinating attire. I said my final goodbyes... it was heartbreaking. I had never ending waves filling my eyes. I was as forlorn as a new widow and and felt bruised and sorrowful as the black stone under the blue sea. Nothing made sense. My life was over. Sometimes I wondered if she had 'gone on ' to some place and just did not want to come back.

In Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s 1981 novella Chronicle of a Death Foretold, the narrative recounts the events leading up to the eventual murder of bachelor Santiago Nasar, a man accused of taking the virginity of the defrocked bride Angela Vicario despite the lack of evidence to prove the claim, and the reactions of the citizens who knew of the arrangement to sacrifice Nasar for the sake of honor. This highly intricate novella incorporates a range of literary techniques, all of which are for the readers to determine who is really to blame for Santiago Nasar’s death. Marquez uses techniques such as foreshadowing and the structure of narrative, along with themes such as violence, religion, and guilt to address the question of blame. Although Santiago