Symbolism can be identified in the short play, “Naked Lunch” written by Michael Hollinger (2003). The play opens and the characters Vern and Lucy are sitting at a dining room table. Hollinger describes flowers on the table, “There is a small vase with too many flowers in it, or a large vase with too few.” (pp. 823) A bottle of wine has been open and the couple is having dinner. Vern had put in a lot of effort preparing dinner.
My friends have already unpacked their lunches and are admiring each other’s cooking skills. One of my friends has brought venison wrapped in bacon, and everyone’s mouth-- except mine-- is watering. I admit I am also an animal killer, but I reassure myself that a deer is much cuter than a fish. To no one’s surprise, I rip open my lunchbox and reveal my tuna and corn salad. When I first started bringing my lunch to school, my friends were disgusted by the pervasive odor, and I solemnly vowed to eat it at home instead so that I would not bother anyone with my peculiar eating habits.
This also ties back into the title “The Century Quilt” because a century is one hundred years long. The speaker uses sublime language consistently throughout the poem to create a reflective mood for the reader. The speaker reminisces on the past and what the future might look like with the sentimental quilt being in her possession. Her purpose was to emphasize the importance of the affinity of family despite the diversity in race and culture. The author is successful in doing this, using various literary techniques that assist her portray the
A family gathered together at the dinner table. But if we compare the orginal painting from what was meant to be FDR’s vision of freedom from want verses the paradies that are meant to demonstrate current generations, many details come to play. Rockwell’s orginal painting illilstrates a family gathered together for a healthy home cooked meal. The idividuals in the painting are well dressed and well groomed. The man at the head of the table is dressed in a suit as if he just cam home from work.
I had had my hands full making chocolate chip pancakes along with sausage, bacon, eggs, and toast, all while in the middle of mixing a container of frozen concentrated orange juice into a pitcher of water when I heard my mama say, “Oh, dear.” somewhat somberly while she read the local paper. I of course had then asked her, “what?” and she said that it was nothing. My curiosity had been piqued though, so I again asked her, “what?” this time a little more urgently. She than glanced towards me with shifting eyes and said, “You remember that man from the drug store, the man who yelled at me?” “Yeah,” “Well, it says here that, Brandon Kolinski, age eight, of Maple Road died last week Wednesday from a brain tumor.” My mama then looked
“Sweetie, time to wake up.” Pretending to be asleep, Abigail “woke up” and looked at her father. Silently, Klaus closed the door. Abigail got up, dressed in her fishing uniform, which was a plain shirt made out of string that her mother gave her, and a pair of ripped, cream colored leggings made out of leather, and a pair of ripped brown boots. When she finished getting dressed, she went to the kitchen, and Lucy prepared breakfast. Abigail devoured her eggs and juicy bacon filled with grease, and behind their house, they have a little red barn that posses chickens, pigs, cows, and roosters .
People find happiness in what they think is best for them; however ‘ Do more of what makes you happy’, which is good; At the same time, ‘ Too much of everything is bad as too little.’In the article “Are You Hooked?”, McLaughlin tell us “Padding across her kitchen floor in the predawn darkness, Mary Curley “ hits the start button on her coffee machine and begins her day with a steaming mug. By the time she gets to her post as a nurse at an assisted living facility, she’s had two more doses of caffeine.” It reminds me of my story,and how glued i am to white rice. My day usually starts at about 6 am which is way before the sun is up, and the first thing that comes to my mind as I wake up is white rice; you may think that as a good practice, when I wake up i would firstly wash my face and brush my teeth; Never. I usually would walk out of my room to infiltrate the kitchen while others are still sleeping, and switch on the lights to rub the sleep out of my eyes. Later, I would tour every corner of the kitchen for about
I walked into the small cottage kitchen with a bowl of steaming soup, and I saw my grandma and my grandpa sitting amongst my family. They all seemed very controversial today, so I walked to my table with my soup and sat down slowly. Mother looked at me with a sulking expression when I placed my napkin on my lap and started to eat my slightly warm biscuit. “Something very important happened today, my dear.” My mother looked down, as if she were trying to tell herself this was just a dream. My father, who was looking at a stack of papers that he had bought before the Stamp Act was passed, flipped through them like he was trying to figure out their use.
Daniel and Spot’s heads simultaneously appear in the doorway of the kitchen. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Painter says: ‘I carelessly knocked over your books’. ‘Don’t worry; I won’t be too long now’, Daniel responds inspecting Painter carefully. Spot just stares at Painter as he is part of the furniture. Painter passes the inspection and they both return to the kitchen to complete the tasks they are busy with.
As the smell of diesel fuel filled my nose every breath I took and the sound of Five Finger Death Punch filled my ears, I thought about what was back home. The green grass, my bed, my wife, my dog Barrett, and the smell of bacon. While I was day dreaming, my squad leader, Glenn Martin, we call him Roman, shook me out of my dream of the sweet treats that can only be found in America. “We’re going into a red zone. The last thing this team needs is for somebody to be shot while they don’t even realize.” “Roger, Sir… So where are we going again?” “In one side of Baghdad and out the other, but while we’re in there, we will be taking any form of insurgency out and clearing a path so that we can set up base here.” “Hoo-ah,” I said as he gave me a slap on the shoulder and headed back to his seat towards the front of the Mine resistant ambush Protected vehicle, “MRAP” for short.