A Made Up Story : The Embarrassing Moment

In “The Truth about Stories”, Thomas King, demonstrate connection between the Native storytelling and the authentic world. He examines various themes in the stories such as; oppression, racism, identity and discrimination. He uses the creational stories and implies in to the world today and points out the racism and identity issues the Native people went through and are going through. The surroundings shape individuals’ life and a story plays vital roles. How one tells a story has huge impact on the listeners and readers. King uses sarcastic tone as he tells the current stories of Native people and his experiences. He points out to the events and incidents such as the government apologizing for the colonialism, however, words remains as

My stomach started speaking to me as I was passing a Burger King. As I approached the register, I recognized that the Cashier was my classmate Kimbre. “ You know we ran out of burgers right?”, she said. Then I replied, “No, you don't say. Does Taco Bell run out of Tacos or Pizza Hut, Pizza?” Kimbre was a babe, the way she chewed her bubblegum made me hot! I mustered up the courage to look her in the eyes and I told her that we should hook up for the dance. She just broke up with her boyfriend, he got mono from kissing her best friend, so she was available. I wiped the lonesome tear off her cheek with my finger.

“Good luck girls, you’ll need it.” the guys mocked the potential that we as girls could have. Then there was a spontaneous lauging amidst them. Mercy did a long pass and with my fast speed, I sped my way to a touchdown. I was unstoppable. My heart was racing,I was panting. In your faces. Ha.Ha.Ha. I laughed mentally. I threw the American football into the sand, enjoying my moment of victory. Unable to think at the moment, I had not realized that the ball had landed extremely near of the strangers that had been there at the beach even longer than we had been.. As I made my way towards the ball, I noticed he was...No he can not be...absolutely not. He’s a stranger. He was attractive. He was obviously tall. For one thing, he had light brown curls and fair pale skin. I wonder what color his eyes are. I thought as I thought all of this while I was running to get the ball. I could not see them as he had black shades on. Dude, stop that! You do not know him. Stranger danger? Emphasis on the danger! I thought to myself, struggling not to look at him. Just get the

I was hesitant to approach her, but I knew I would regret it if I didn’t talk to her. I went over to her, sat down beside her, asked to buy her a drink, and started a conversation with her. I had to admit, I went into it nervous and not being sure of what to say, but her calm demeanor and friendly attitude made me comfortable. I was enjoying being in her company. She actually had intriguing things to say and I felt myself drawn to her. At the time, I dismissed that feeling as a stronger than usual sexual urge that I needed to act upon. We decided to head back to my place and spend the night together. When I woke up in the morning, I didn't want her to leave my apartment as quickly as possible. I treated this feeling of closeness I felt towards Shela as a temporary fleeting passion that was completely inconsequential. But as she left, I started considering the possibility of settling down with a girl and having a family on a holistic scale. I knew this need for companionship had been coming my way for a long time now but I just was not sure why it became so

“We didn’t mean to hurt anyone, honest. We just wanted to make the hood better, safer. Honest. I’m sorry.” (Gallo 111). This theme is think before you act, in the short story Confession. You genuinely need to think before you do anything in dangerous situations. In the short story, the theme shows up when they decided to burn drugs in members of the gang's lockers. Also, when Lacey needed to keep the Protectors secret so no one finds out it's them. Then again, when they concluded to trash and vandalize a different gang's cars for the taste of their own medicine. There are many other themes like seeking revenge could have dangerous outcomes. But my theme is stronger because it shows up three times in the short story

Hey, I couldn’t really make it to the meeting yesterday. I really just had to much to do last night. When you’re a self-employed artist owning a cat, things don’t go as planned. Did I also mention I own a dog too, because that’s pretty important in why I couldn't make it to AA. So, oil paint is my favorite medium. I have this beautiful canvas I’m painting for David Bowie, its of Queen Elizabeth. Her luscious white hair, probably one of the most consolidated images I have ever had the opportunity to paint in my life. Oil paint, is one difficult medium to remove off of cat fur. My little munchkin cat, Miss Moo Moo, spontaneously catapulted straight into my bowl of paint I was currently using. This paint, chalky as can be,

Then she gave us our homework. I get done early then turn it, then ask to go to the bathroom. She writes me a pass and asked do I know my way I told her yeah, but honestly I don’t but I will find it. A few other students are wandering the halls, I pass a few teachers, they just smile and keep walking. I finally find a bathroom, I check my hair, my bun is still in place and neat, I check my clothes, wash my hands and as i’m walking out one of the girls from first period walks in she mean mugs me and bumps my shoulder a little, I would have said something but it’s my first day and I don’t want that impression at this school,but she get her day. As I walk back to class a honey-brown girl walks by and smiles, then ask if i’m the new girl, I tell her yea, then she said welcome to bluford and she likes my style. I tell her thanks and then we both go on our

It all started on the third day of sixth grade, I was assigned a new seat next to the new girl, her name was Izzy. We were both really quiet and shy so we didn’t talk to each other. The only time we ever talked was to ask for a pencil, piece of paper, or for partner work. We noticed that we have the exact same schedule except for one class. We started talking more and we started to invite each other to sit by each other at lunch. After the first part of school, we started to be good friends, but we didn’t talk or hang out that much outside of school except for on text meassage.

“Y/N...do you fancy me?” he asked. You couldn’t answer. All these thoughts of what could go wrong and what could go right flashed through your head. “Oh yeah, she does,” one of your friends said. You couldn’t breathe. What if he didn’t like you back? Your cheeks flushed even darker.

Today was September 12, 2012. I had woken up like any other normal day and was getting ready for school. I typically don’t eat breakfast, but that one simple mishap can lead to the unbelievable. Little did I know that only in the matter of a half hour of arriving to school my whole day would come crashing down. I had arrived at West Jay Middle School and had got my books and went to class. I was in eighth grade then. I felt normal like any other day, but it had appeared that I had been wrong.

Distorted narratives are capable of twisting what the typical, nowhere near out-of-the-ordinary telephone pole means and the little emotion associated with it. With the assistance of shocking facts, she is able to completely change my perspective of something so simple and create a complex view and upside-down interpretation that drew out feelings of heartache and horror. In our day-to-day lives, people come across these thought-altering events such as pimples. They have the ability show up even when so many precautions are taken to avoid them. Common objects, like telephone poles, or common occurrences can have such deeper association caused by awry actions and backgrounds. As I continue to transition from high school to college (even a semester

It's 8:51, I'm waiting for a snapchat message from her. I really want her to like me. I'm waiting, waiting, waiting. It's 8:52, there's nothing new in her story. I'm worried, no concerned, maybe I should text her. No. She'd think I'm weird. We don't talk enough, I wonder what she thinks, I should send her a message. No, I shouldn't but Click. It's 8:53, maybe she's tired, maybe that why she didn't see my snapchat story, like my Instagram post, or text me. I really want to talk to her face to face, but instead I can only see her on a phone screen. It's 8:54, I'm starting the feel the bitterness between my fingertips. I'm starting to feel the paleness on my face. The paleness, the frailness of my emotions, the sound of the staleness, emotionless light on my phone display.

I remember one incredibly funny day from last year. It was the day I fell through the glass display case at school. Boy, I tell you that sucked so bad. I know for a fact I’ll never live it down. I’m known for being pretty accident prone so it was no surprise to people when they found out I was the one who had left the blood stain in the hallway.

It was in December, during my Christmas vacation, when I decided to start looking for a summer job. There were many options but the job I decided to apply for was a position as a lifeguard at a waterpark. I filled out an application and was accepted almost immediately. The only thing left was the lifeguard training; little did I know that it was going to be an experience I would never forget.

Geoffrey Chaucer wrote the Canterbury Tales from the view of a pilgrim journeying with many other travelers who all had tales to tell. I believe that the stories told by the characters in Chaucer's book gives us insight into the individual spinning the tale as well as Chaucer as the inventor of these characters and author of their stories. There are three main characters whose stories I will be using as examples: The Knight's Tale, The Miller's Tale, and The Wife of Bath's Tale.