PARTY "Oh my god‚ I am so drunk"‚ I hear someone shout out above the crowd. I stop for a second and think to myself. "Wait a second‚ why am I drinking?" my friend comes up and hands me a beer and says‚ "Hey wimp drink up!" So I figure‚ hey why not. Two o’clock roles around and I am feeling like I drank myself stupid‚ which I have. All of a sudden I realize I have my dad’s truck‚ and he needs it in about three hours. So little time‚ what am I going to do? Here are some easy steps to sober up quickly
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Rudy hated to go home with his left ear bleeding and his right eye almost closed. He is a 12 year old kid that is bullied at Middleton Middle School. Rudy opened the door to see his dog‚ Shepherd‚ stare at him with a gaze stronger than the sun. Rudy went through the door to find himself in a old‚ moldy house with the wallpaper peeling off like a banana. He walked over to the phone that had a voicemail on it‚ Rudy listened very closely as the speaker was muffled up with grime. All Rudy could hear
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Black Sabbath Chapter 1. The man’s eyes snapped open and the man’s breathing was rushed and very loud. Crack! One of the men wearing a green uniform smacked the man unconsious.Seconds later The car stopped to a halt and another man jumped out. The men grabbed and threw the man to the ground. The bruised being turned to see as one of the men shoot him in his elbow. The man grasped his elbow as the men dragged him across the ground. The man looked around. It was dark out and they were surrounded
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English 132 1 April 2012 “How to Tell a True War Story” O’Briens “How to Tell a True War Story”‚ is a compilation of war stories and some experiences that men have had while away from home‚ at war during a battle. The theme of O’Briens short story is to always look at the positive side of all things that may happen in one’s life. There is a positive side in every single action that takes place in people’s lives. O’Brien tries to explain a war story as best as he can but‚ most believe that to
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have to let go of your dreams and you cannot allow yourself to be selfish which can be very hard. A Journey is a short story written by Colm Tòibin. The short story is told by a limited third person narrator‚ and because of that we only hear about the main character’s thought and opinions. We see the events and other characters from his viewpoint. It makes it a bit more unreliable when it is a subjective narrator. If we were told the short story from David’s or Seamus’ point of view or if it was
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one for any unfathomable emergency he could face. Mr. Sen wasn’t an alcoholic‚ at least that’s what he kept telling himself after every bottle‚ every single night. One could sympathize with him‚ albeit‚ his career took a toll on his heavy body‚ his short‚ bulky neck‚ tea bags around his eyes‚ displayed every passerby of his nocturnal sleeping habits and late working hours. In almost surreal contrast‚ Zoya stood lavishly beside Mr. Sen; her eternal youthful body with the firmness of a fully grown woman
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Creative Writing: Topic-Ocean Long before the dawn of time itself‚ there existed a tiny singularity‚ the one bright spark of light which would give birth to all objects in the universe. This singularity held oceans of knowledge‚ many in which our emotions and thought cycles originated from. Where all knowledge on the universe and what was to be was stored. Inside the singularity‚ a tiny civilisation governed these vast oceans of knowledge‚ they were the guardians of knowledge‚ the most learned
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John woke up‚ or rather‚ came to lying in a curved white hallway. Unsure how or or why he came to this place other than he is here‚ now‚ in this featureless curved hallway. The floor he was lying on was also curved. It was like being inside a large tube. John stood up with feet apart‚ he stretched out his arms to touch the curved walls but couldn’t reach. Taking one side step with his left foot he was able to touch the inner curved wall. John side stepped from center wan touched the outer wall
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The monotone buzz when a phone call was filling her ear when her mother hangs up. "I’ll see you at 4!" Her mother’s voice echoes in her head. Walking down 48th Street in the suburb of Phoenix known as Ahwatukee‚ Alyson is eager to share her new attained $350 on none other than her mom. Aly has made it to her front door by the time she finished calling the salon. "Your appointment is set for 4:10 this afternoon at our location on Chandler Boulevard." The massage clerk had sent via email to the shiny
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In limbo for hours until I finally decided to arise. Stretching and moving‚ waking my body up in preparation for the difficult day ahead. Physically my bones ached‚ creaking as I walked‚ like the floorboards of a forgotten home. Mentally I was lost‚ for I had nothing to say. I was a mime walking. What should someone do when the most important person in their life dies? Do you sit there‚ do you cry‚ do you ignore everyone? The funeral lasted for an hour and thirty-two minutes‚ from start to finish
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