A Normal Day Short Story

Hello, welcome back with another and only post by Adam. So Yesterday I went home from school and my parents were at home too because they off from work that day. After, I went home and change into my wrestling stuff, my parents take me to Cudahy. My match against Jacob N and and he's on my weight class, but he way bigger than me. The score was 18- 5 and I though is gonna be hard for to win against him, but I know I will try my best to win the match. I win all my match since when the wrestling season

Reilly appeals to pathos to convince his readers that sports are a powerful influence on everyday life and evoke the feeling of sympathy from his audience . This appeal supports sports journalism is the best form of journalism because of the influence it has on everyday lives. Reilly describes how the relationship between a father and son was healed through a sports team's victory; “I knew a Boston dad and son who hadn’t spoken in five years… But when the Red Sox won it all in 2004, the son came home. They hugged and cried and laughed” (658). The son and father both had cared deeply for this team, following them all season with equal heart and devotion. When the team finally won this meant a lot to both the son and father, and despite their differences, the father and son were able to share their ecstaticness over the win and heal their relationship.

They both said union “okay.” They both took a bit into the muffin. “Mmmmmmm, good,” they said.

Conflict is like the juice of a fiction story, without it there is really nothing for the readers to look forward and the plot is not as strong or enticing for the readers. Conflict furthers the action of the plot and can as well help the readers to get a better understanding of the characters.

And I saw this girl she looked tough and she likes been playing warket ball but didn’t even look tired and the way I saw my big and fierce brother call her name all sweet and gushy,and the way I saw her look at him ( with a bit of announce), and finally the way my brothers eyes looked like they were going to cry, I knew that my brother was going to attacked and aim it straight for me. So turns out that my brother did aim for me but I saw it before he had the chance to.

One day kevin was at the zoo playing with his friends talking they were talking about how he could play basketball and he could shoot a 3 pointer. And he said that he would do better by slam dunking it and hanging on to the rim. There was a tiny problem there was no rim so they had to figure out what to do so they just sat around talking about how kevin could dance and drive. Then it was about 3 in the morning and kevin and his friends heard something outside but they just turned over in their bed’s and went back to bed then they all heard a loud BOOM!!! So they all jumped outta bed and looked at each other and looked around and went outside to see where the loud boom had came from. When they got outside there they loud noise was again

My mother would start the mornings with a “Levantese que hay mucho que hacer”, in translation, “Wake up there is so much to do today”. Every day, the wakeup call was at 5:30 in the morning and it started with a list of chores. Occasionally, we would sleep until 7:30 in the morning on the weekends to more chores and whatever else was on the list. My mother was regimental and the “A” typical Latina mother, very old school. Not a day went by where my brother and me didn’t do chores and helped around the house. Lord forbit that she would have to repeat herself twice on our individual chores. She constantly reminded me that one day I would become a wife and would have to know how to take care of my family, “A man does not like a lazy wife and you would want to stay married to the same man you have exchanged vowels with”, she would say. Seeing that she was remarried two times already, I did not understand why she would expect it from me. None -the-less, I did what I was told and without any galivanting I accomplished every task assigned to me.

The story hour we read was a very true story I think back in that day. Back than the husbands hit their wives and beat them and stuff and thought it was okay, people still do that today but they will get in trouble for it. But I can see why she did not like staying with that guy. She was a slave I bet and did all of the work around the house while all he did was went to his job. I bet he doesn’t do anything for work either. The reason why I think she croaked was because she was sad that he did not die and she wasn’t actually free anymore. That is what I am thinking happened.

When the visitor sat down next to the rugged window he saw his father in the reflection, it reminded him of when he was young sitting with his mother. He was taken back to that day whenever they were making a plot that would alter his life. He was daydreaming next to the frosted window on a late Christmas Eve with his mother trying to read a story to the young visitor. The mother finally caught the young boy's attention and was talking about plotting an idea. The mother explained to the young boy onto what had been happening. She discussed with him how they were going to try and leave that night, so they no longer had to deal with this non-understandable and incomprehensible human being.

Day 37: I’m with my little sister in a forest trying to get away from the chaos. My mom and dad are gone and I don’t know where my twin is at. I see bodies everywhere. I want to go home, I want this to be over, when is it going to be over.

My alarm clock yet again pierces my  eardrum.I pick it up and throw it on the floor making it bounce all over.Since I usually take forever in the morning I go in my closest put on a basketball Jersey my New York Yankees hat and my converse.I then walk out and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth.I am so hungry so

Day 20. Hell is the way of living after being in this battle ,and what i have seen after these twenty days has changed my life forever. We have managed to take the village about 10 miles out of normandy after fighting for 2 days taking out a small german armoured division consisting of panzer 4s and about 20 infantry. This battle was one of the worst, hitler's buzzsaw or the mg42 blew my cousins jacobs limbs away, I had to watch him die. I know I could not do anything or else I was going to be ripped up. Thankfully we were able to call in airsupport i remember hearing the stupid grouts yelling ¨ Es ist der Jugg laufen!!¨.

It was an ordinary day when something terrible occurred to a local football team. The Borussia Dortmund football team were on their way to their Champion League Game against the Monaco, they were structured by three explosions. The BBC News report this incident that occurred on an ordinary Tuesday on the article, ‘‘Borussia Dortmund football team bus hit by explosions.’’ The purpose of the article is to persuade the audience, German citizens, to sympathize the tragedy that occur to a local football team and to support them with a helping them. It is accomplished through the use of the rhetorical strategies such as an appeal to pathos and ethos.

It was a normal day at the newspaper building. I was just mostly typing articles most of the day. My friend Brently Mallard also work at the same building too. We had a very good friendship after I’ve gotten hired, he was the first people I’ve met on my first day of work. My first job in the company was being the paperboy at the age of 14. Mr. Mallard helped me reloading the cart as I go to the next neighborhood after another. The year was 1897, three years after I was being hired, I got a new shift and it was printing out newspaper from 7 A.M to 6 P.M. I was surprised that Brently Mallard was here too just to keep me company during the day. Later through the week we’ve met Richard he was a very nice person and got started to work here two days ago. The three of us became the best trio in the company.

Deception- appearance versus reality. In the short story A Day’s Wait, the author Ernest Hemingway writes about a boy who has fallen ill and his journey through his illness. The boy in this short story suffers from an illness known as influenza. Influenza is a highly contagious viral infection that causes fever and severe aching. In the short story A Stolen Day, the author Sherwood Anderson writes about another boy who also falls ill, but in a different manner. This boy claims that he has inflammatory rheumatism which is a genetic disorder that makes joints, muscles, and tissues feel inflamed. Although the boy acts like he has inflammatory rheumatism, he clearly does not have the disorder. These two boys go through a journey of their sicknesses.