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Help With Creative Writing Papers
Personal Writing: Death
... come. Which they still are, but now their mortality is becoming clearer to me, the older I become.
My realization of death started with a phone call. My mother answers, it’s my aunt, Burma. I glance over to my mother; her face is overcome by a look of sadness. “How’s Patsy handling it?” My mother asks. Later, after what seemed to be a very emotionally draining conversation, my mother comes to me. She tells me that my aunt, Patsy’s daughter Trisha has died. I never knew her well, so up to this point I did not have much of an emotional reaction to the news. However, I knew that her death would devas ...
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Society Sucks
... others are gonna see that they should just clean the slate and start new. I could really give a damn… No…really… I don’t care…. My point of view is simple…what fun is life if you have no choice to exist or not… Why can’t god just give you a choice at conception…”Well Stephen do you want to be born or not…?” “No thank you…I’d rather not be around for Armageddon big man…Thanks for asking though” That is what should happen…but no…that wouldn’t be allowed…it’s a fair choice…No one would EVER let that happen…
If I could just tell off whoever created us…UHH!! What I w ...
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Creative Writing: The Crash
... Cried Jesse with a face full of tears.
"Jesse come back here!" Sobbed his grandmother.
Jesse then took off, and he told no one where he was going. So now
there is a grandmother weeping, a nervous rookie cop, and an upset missing
teenager; what is the family to do now. They just lost their dad, and son, and
now his child has taken off. Talk about a nightmare of a morning.
After Jesse took off his grandmother sat there on the couch, clutching
the work shirt of her dead son crying, "Oh Edward, Oh Edward." The cries echoed
through the empty house as the grandmother sat there in tears.
"How could ...
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The Power Of Obierika
... knew where his strength was. He may not have the bravery to be such a harbinger of bad news but he could at least avenge Okonkwo's tragic death. Images of the milky white Christians who had arrogantly invaded the village flashed before Obierika's eyes. It drove him into frenzy, running into trees and ripping the plants and his own hair.
" The Christians will die! They treat us like animals to be herded to wherever it best serves them, to die or to be converted into a life of death. The Christians will die, the Christians will die!"
Obierika screamed the manta over and over, aware of his inhuman and m ...
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Creative Writing: Apocalypse At The Nuclear Plant
... himself as he slid his access card into the slot and the door opened.
"Thank god you're here!" his boss, Jarvis explained. Pete checked his
watch. "Am I late?" he queried. "No time for that, no time for that damnit!"
Jarvis seemed very upset about something to say the least. "Well, what is it?"
Pete asked with a look of haste swimming across his face.
Jarvis lead Pete over to the main testing area. "We discovered this
late last night. Seems one of the plutonium pieces is…," he paused with a gulp,
"changing."
"Changing?!?!"
"You better believe it because it took me an hour to comprehend what is
going ...
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Personal Writing: All About Nothing: The Story Of My Life
... Beacon,” or even in the “Somerset Messenger Gazette,” which, in the
lingo of those in the news paper business, is the ‘big time.' But there is
little point in even mentioning these things, because they have not happened,
and thus, I am left topicless. I could try to fool you with some far out,
totally unbelievable story about how I was in a car wreck involving at least two
dozen cars, including the president's limousine, and how despite having broken
two legs, an arm, in addition to various other body parts too numerous to
mention, I managed to drag myself out of the wrecked car (A job for t ...
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Personal Writing: Bad Teacher
... of times, over a two-week period,
she told me that I couldn't go anymore, but I sneaked passed her and went
anyway. A week later, I got hurt again, so I snuck past her again even
though she had told me not to go. That afternoon, she insulted me in front
of everybody in the class; thus, I thought of her as a mean witch. Later
that school year, I accidentally placed my finger in the doorway and
someone slammed it without knowing my finger was there. She didn't care;
therefore, she didn't tell me what to do. Consequently, I had to hold the
two parts of my finger and run upstairs alone. Even though it hurt a lot, I ...
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Personal Essay: I Propose To Change The Status Of Craighead County, AR From A Dry To A Wet County
... know you are unable to purchase alcohol under the current laws. Yet,
people do not refrain from the consumption of alcoholic beverages. Logically we
can conclude that people purchase the alcohol elsewhere. Money that could
recycle itself into the economy of Craighead County contributes to others.
There are numerous small businesses along the county line that sell only alcohol.
Craighead is a college county. College students spend approximately $4.2
billion annually to purchase 430 million gallons of alcoholic beverages. These
businesses could be run here, in Jonesboro, instead of places like Harrisburg
and T ...
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Creative Writing: Dogs And Cats
... out of the bad part of town, no owner, no home, no nothing,
thinking it can roam around like a king.
"There's a chain of command around here!" Scampi snarled.
"Okay, it's over." Mustard sighed and lay down. This was the third time
in a week that they'd failed. He had been around long enough to know when he was
beat.
"No respect. Where's the respect?" Scampi circled the tree in a haze of
anger, his tiny legs beating furiously on the grass. The beagle could never
quite get over a loss. Mustard lay his head on the ground and watched the
passage of time on the street while Scampi vented.
Soon, Roy the Basset and h ...
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Creative Writing: Dogs And Cats
... out of the bad part of town, no owner, no
home, no nothing, thinking it can roam around like a king.
"There's a chain of command around here!" Scampi snarled.
"Okay, it's over." Mustard sighed and lay down. This was the third
time in a week that they'd failed. He had been around long enough to know
when he was beat.
"No respect. Where's the respect?" Scampi circled the tree in a
haze of anger, his tiny legs beating furiously on the grass. The beagle
could never quite get over a loss. Mustard lay his head on the ground and
watched the passage of time on the street while Scampi vented.
Soon, Roy the Basset and h ...
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