English Short Story
Her face held such inconceivable pain as she held her child; I ultimately felt I faced the worst punishment.
My skin warmed to the sunshine illuminating the small room. Each corner filled with sunlight, slowly warming the room, forcing me to face the day ahead. I gazed around my room taking in my simple yet pleasant surroundings. A table with four chairs stood in the middle of the room. The room was decorated with photos of my family, daughter and granddaughter. As I glimpsed at these photos I smiled. My daughters smile radiated off the photo as she stood next to her fiancée, Temba. Temba was a kind and gentle soul, a perfect match for my cool-tempered daughter. My mind easily distracted with these thoughts, thinking about
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I pinned it on my suit and through the reflection saw the warm sunlight hitting my table, I smiled. I went over to the store front to make sure my trap was secure and headed out.
The sun shone brightly that day. My daughter was beautiful, mirroring the peacefulness all around us. The day was filled with singing and dancing joyously celebrating the union between her and her now husband. I watched as they laughed lightly with each other, always pausing to thank family members for their attendance. I had said my goodbyes and was on the way home and couldn’t help but notice how beautiful the sunset was.
“Sir, I need you to come with us”. I pushed past the two officers and rushed around the front of my store. Confusion was present until I saw the scene in front of me. What I assumed was a mother, holding her dead child with her bare hands, while another child cried beneath her. The women looked up at me, I looked down. The child had two sweets tightly clasped around her blood red hands. I looked back up at the mother, her face held such inconceivable pain as she held her child; I ultimately felt I faced the worst
Her personal joy was found sitting in their patio swing and listening to the birds’ chirp, watching her cats play and a picture-perfect sunset in the
Even in her silly christmas pajamas, she was still beautiful. The children ran in circles in the large, grassy field. Their lunches abandoned on the quilt as they chased butterflies and made wishes on dandelions. The woman's flowery sun dress billowed in the wind, and once again the man couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. The way she hugged their children, always dragging him into the hug too, and sipped her lemonade as the sun lit up her face.
Abby couldn’t bear to part with the beautiful card when it came time to put Christmas things away. She found a picture frame for it, and the glitzy card with its message of hope sat on her fireplace mantel throughout that first year of her married life away from home. A year passed and it was time, again to exchange season’s greetings. Abby debated long and hard over an idea that had come to her. She was thinking about what the card had meant to her in the last twelve months, trying to decide if she could follow through with it.
Time marched on; I was almost finished with my first quarter of classes. Mike Newton remained my shadow while Alice despite all my qualms, became my best friend. Her parents - particularly her mother - were even growing on me. I had spent a considerable amount of time at their home, and was included whenever they visited and took Alice out to dinner, to shop or to see a movie.
Boston Massacre is a beautiful place to live. But there was something changed! The people changed, the rules changed and everything seems different. And I knew that there is something would happen to Boston. And you can see the people are tension or nervous and some of them were upset and sad.
A simple photo frame , the colour faded in age but you can still see as clear as day. A family standing in front of a cherry tree in bloom with our car in the background, prepared for eastertide in their plane white clothes. My family. Smiling, unaware of the chaos around them.
All but I ,are staring to the side with such wonder. We’re standing behind a backdrop of trees and the garage of our Long Island home. Captured in a single moment is a piece of the past that brings smiles to our lips.
My Writing Progression “It’s what we think we know that keeps us from learning” This quote from Claude Bernard describes my writing development this year. At the beginning of this schoolyear, I thought that I was going to go into this year and be able to breeze through this class because I could write a good essay last year and analyze stories, but I was wrong. Lit Comp Honors has been a brand-new experience for me.
As a student, I have grown in my skills for academic success by having to write an essay in my Honors English class. We’ve recently finished reading the novel The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and were told to write an essay about one of the given prompts. Before having to write this essay, I was struggling with the type of vocabulary and perspective, which was third-person, I was supposed to use. I had to find the right quotes from the book and explain in detail how they support the prompt, I felt that was the hardest for me. The words “I” or “me” weren’t allowed in the essay, unless they were in quotes.
Having my high school at the AP program established under SCNU was always one of my luckiest things happened to me. At here, I was trained to be priorly familiar with the U.S. education system and successful after coming to the U.S. where all the students were supposed to go. In order to be prepared, I was trained to write different kinds of essays, including laboratory report, social science research paper and literature expository writing. I have started to write all these kinds of essays since grade 10, and every writing assignment has gone through the process of outlining, drafting, peer proofreading and editing. At college, my writing style hasn’t really changed, yet, the way I write an essay has changed.
I 've learned that reading and writing can take me any where I want it to go. I can explore my mind to go anywhere by imagination, by reading and writing. However,My reading and writing experience since I was a kid until now I still having a difficulty. When I was 3 years old my mom started me to learn how to read and write. At first, I 'm having a difficulty to read and write but my mom tried her best to taught me.
Everybody knows that there are four seasons, and everyone has their favorite one out of all of them. Mine is when the woods turns into a coloring book of orange and red, when I put a nice warm batch of hot co-co on the stove, and were all of my family comes together every year. My favorite season is fall. My favorite hobby is hunting.
“We are going to Miami and meeting up with your sister and dad” she said. Her hazel eyes filled with happiness and joy because we would be a family again. I had been apart from my sister for a year and my father for 6 months. I missed them very much but I didn’t want to leave.
I believe that I have learned many useful lessons this semester. At the start of this semester I honestly did not know how to write a proper essay. There were several big problems with my writing style. My poor grammar and lack-luster writing skills were a real problem. I feel more confident now that I have written some decent papers and come close to completing my first English class.
As I began the journey of returning to school, one of my biggest fears, was the writing aspect in the classes. The fear of reading and writing has never been a strong quality; however, I have never able to successfully be creative in the way I learn. I understand my weaknesses and when I need to focus on my strengths. I am constantly learning new ways, skills, and tools to utilize to continue to grow as a writer. Focusing on my strengths allows me to have the security that I can be a good writer.