Shoe Narrative It was a calm peaceful drive to work for this morning. The leaves on the trees were almost all gone, although a few still held onto their orange and yellow covering. The late fall atmosphere also allowed me to see the beautiful golden sunrise every morning while driving to the hospital for work. I was running a little late today because of a slow start, but everyone at the hospital knows when they are working with me, they will not start on time. Many times people comment on my late arrivals and say that they are always on time even with kids to raise, but I simply comment on how I am glad my children are away in college.
My son has been in college now for three years, and daughter now out of college but in medical school
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Looking down the path I could see the trail twist and curve around towering cliffs with fiery colored trees on the edges, with their roots exposed on the cliff holding the tree from toppling off the side. Navigating down the steep slope, I reached the bottom of a deep ravine with a stream and a narrow bridge running across it. I trekked across the old wooden bridge and looked into the clear, clean, and cold running water that flowed into a short cascading waterfall. Once done staring into the rocky stream, I continued along the flat forested path of the ravine until coming to a steep uphill section of the path. In past hiking trips I climbed much rockier and challenging terrain, so I didn’t think much of hiking this stretch of the hike. Climbing up the rocky slope, I was distracted by surrounding forests and mountain ranges I could see from the open trail on the side of the mountain. Then it happened. The next step I took I was tumbling down the side off the trail. As I stepped up, the loose rock I planted my foot on lost its place in ground and came tumbling down with
raHe searched everywhere for those shoes, those perfect tan ones with that fabric flower that fit him just right. The closet, underneath his bed, in the pile of clean clothes he meant to fold a week ago. They were nowhere to be found, completely gone from the face of the Earth, leaving Cal Hampton barefooted and discouraged. It was only eight in the morning and his room was more of a mess than it usually was, plus, worst of all, he didn 't have a single pair of shoes that matched the floral skirt settled upon his waist. He bought it just for that damn pair, those adorable, dainty tan shoes, and now, the thing was useless.
She took another tunnel and it lead outside so she got a vine and started to climb it and held to the tree. She had been up there so long night had fallen. When dawn had awoken she awoke and looked at her surroundings. She got down and agin amusly with the arrows. She finally came to a fork in the road.
Seth and Twist trotted behind me. We drifted up the trail past mountain laurel, sagebrush, and small pines for almost half an hour then finally made it to the top of the ridge. I could see into the wide rift below. It was craggy, thick, and wild. The ground was littered with fallen twigs, decaying maple leaves, and brambly, green shrubs.
We sat down on the trunks’ roots and threw rocks at the base of an oak right in the middle of the large path. We then sat for a while, then walked up the at least seventy degree path, using all our energy to push ourselves up the path. Halfway the ground leveled up for a small sitting space. I looked across the miniature valley where the camp was located.
At first, I followed the edge of our property line until I came to a little trail in the weeds that looked like it been made by a deer or another good-sized animal. It descended gently down the escarpment at first, but then I had to quicken my step as it became a little steeper, eventually taking me right down to the Genesee River. The river itself wasn’t as wide and as deep as I thought it would have been, and in spots it looked like you could cross without needing the aid of a bridge, the water perhaps coming up as high as my waist. But that was most likely because it was August and the heat wave we’d been experiencing had the area gripped in a drought. I had followed the river’s rocky shoreline for a little ways while listening
“Rogan’s Shoes?” I said in shock. I was driving to my parents house in Wauwatosa from Flagstaff, Arizona with my family. I have three girls. My oldest girls are Beverly and Trinity.
The trees rustled with excitement for the summer, and the water was cool and inviting to those who stared at its sparkling beauty. Breathtaking, much like the curious man who was chopping the trees. I crossed paths with him on my morning walk through the woods. He must have been from the town over, Roanoke, or have a house not to far from the trail. If he is from Roanoke, they have been settled there for some time.
As I rambled through my closet looking for my other pair, my mother shouts “hurry up Sarah you are going to be late to school.” Being rushed angered me so I threw on an old pair of ripped up grey canvas shoes and run out the door to the car. On my way to school,
The trail did not seem like it was ever going to end it stretched out for mile and miles and then miles after that but she kept walking. Finally i saw house on the horizon so i knew i was almost there. I finally trudged the whole trail and i ran into a big house at the trails end. The house seemed to be
Famous Trail. N.p., n.d. Web. 25 May 2016. •Kiely, Kathy, and Thomas M. Defrank. "
Even time, one of the most seemingly constant things in life is relative. Within this relative space is queer time. The queer movement has had its own timeline and relationship with time both within and outside of the dominant timeline. Unlike in the dominant culture in which one’s past remains in the past and the future is always progress, queer time constantly looks simultaneously forward and backward, appreciating the importance of the past for the creation of the future. This more fluid definition of time is demonstrated through editing and framing in “Hollywood Je T’aime” and the historical basis of “A Slacker and Delinquent in Basketball Shoes” as is the idea that people are not forgotten, simply because they are in the past.
Each day I notice a little more greenery on the banks. Birds sang in the trees and rabbits hopped along the ridge. Caroob followed his normal routine—keeping watch from the sky above, occasionally swooping down to bring me mushrooms, berries, or pears. By daylight, daylight I trekked mile after mile. In the evenings, I settled down on the banks and stared at the stars until I fell asleep.
Surrounding them was dense jungle with thick roots running along the ground, there was more than 30 rivers they had to cross. The mud in many areas was knee deep because of the amount of rain they were getting at that time. “At times we’d cover only a few hundred metres in an hour as we clambered down the slippery slopes or trudged, panting, up the sheer mountains. It’s mentally, as well as physically exhausting stuff. Just staying upright can, at times, take the utmost concentration.
Sara Parlagreco Heidii McMichael English 7 Word Count: 1799 "Momma always says there's an awful lot you could tell about a person by their shoes. Where they're going. Where they've been" (Forrest Gump). This quote has never been truer for me as it has in the past year and a half. I have spent a good portion of the last year and a half in only one shoe, while my other "shoe" was actually a walking boot.
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.