A Short Story : A Story?

How much power does a poor white woman have back in the 1900s have? A white lady named Mayella accused a black man, Tom Robinson, for rape. The two ended up going to trial. She ended up winning the case and sent the black man to jail. She might have won the case, but how much power does she really have?

Rick eased the motorcycle on to Grand Avenue and the two made their way up to the university campus. He cruised Stadium Way at a respectable speed, then the motor screamed as he turned left on Nevada then right on Spokane Street at seventy miles an hour. Not a cop in sight. Luv sucked in her breath and hung on for dear life. She recognized the route, they arrived a moment later at the campus

What better way to educate Americans about presidential assassinations than embarking on a “pilgrimage” complete with everything from floating brain matter (10) to a sex community turned teapot factory (137)? This is Sarah Vowell’s assumption, as throughout Assassination Vacation, she indulges into the nooks and crannies of three “forgotten” moments, the moments in which Presidents Lincoln, Garfield, and McKinley met their dooms. As she travels up and down the

Now, he was well on his way to Washington, chasing what he had long since presumed to be nothing but a ghost story. Still, he had no anxieties or qualms about following this latest of long, winding paths. The world, after all, had its beauty, even mixed in with all the persisting misery and sorrow, and it was like his eyes had been opened to it for the first time in a long while yet. People had become so enraptured in

Christine looked out the side window, and her jaw dropped. “Holy...” Parked along the curb were dozen of news vans, mostly from local stations, but she spotted a few from the national networks. All along the curb were dozens of reports, cameramen, and other assorted personnel. All of them crowding around one house. A very particular house.

It is easy to see the beginnings of things, and harder to see the ends. I can remember now, with a clarity that makes the nerves in the back of my neck constrict, when New York began for me, but I cannot lay my finger upon the moment it ended, can never cut through the ambiguities and second starts and broken resolves to the exact place on the page where the heroine is no longer as optimistic as she once was. When I first saw New York I was twenty, and it was summertime, and I got off a DC-7 at the old Idlewild temporary terminal in a new dress which

“Shit, shit, shit…” Kelsey mumbled to herself as she leaned against the wall of her room to put her other black stiletto on. She quickly zipped up her black dress, applied red lipstick and ran out the door. The warm night air brushed against her legs as she quickly walked to the bar downtown. She was on a mission tonight… and being late wasn’t part of the plan.

Evie hopped off the bus with a renewed sense of purpose. “I came here to succeed. Not to worry about home,” she thought to herself. She was feeling driven and ready to begin anew here, in a foreign land with foreign people, people who don’t know her or her legacy. She looked around at the lively street scene before her. The signs were vibrant and their brilliance drew her closer and closer to the center of town. The entire city seemed to be moving towards her, and an endless sea of men and women spewed out of the buildings and down the block. The congested streets keep her pace slow, but her mind was racing with new thoughts and ideas. The gridlocked traffic finally allowed for some leeway, and Evie found her way out of the fray and across

“Eric, come right inside,” a note posted on the door of Robert Lane’s apartment informs me. The air-conditioning clicks on as I enter. Two large bookshelves line one wall while faded posters supporting Howard Dean and Barack Obama are tacked up in the adjacent kitchen. “Professor Lane?” I ask the empty den. No answer. I drop my backpack on a chair and walk down a hallway, past a modern-looking painting, toward the one room with the lights turned on.

Three days, two nights is how long we’ll be staying in Portland. First we have to get through the morning briefing, survive the excruciating safety talk on how “Portland is not Salem”, and how “Portland is a much more dangerous place”. These few minutes will probably be the longest minutes of the trip, not including the ride there, but I obtained some audiobooks the day before for this one hour ride. We start to move our bags from our classroom to the cars we’ll be riding in, six can ride in Mr. Abel’s car, our advisor, fourteen on the bus, and another six in the Mrs. Jones's car, she volunteered as chaperone. I decide to ride in the bus, but my friends who were both crushing on the same girl go in Mr. Abel’s car, that was probably the most awkward car ride of the century.

The brunette gave a muffled sigh as she stood in the rain, the droplets trickled down her leather jacket, taunting its warmth. Her fingers curled around the hood of the old beaten fiesta and lifted it, taking a quick check. Nothing stood out. Then again, Amelia had never been good with vehicles. She knew she should have sold this car by now but it had so many memories, that old tainted blue paint job, it was just another good memory. Raising her right arm, she brushed away the leather sleeve to notice the time, she cursed audibly. Her first job with a new partner and she was already running late let alone getting to the scene. Not willing to waste any more time Amelia stepped out into the road, hailing a passing cab. There was nothing more embarrassing than turning up at a crime scene in a cab but what else could she do?

The death penalty has always been a topic of controversy since it was first introduced. The death penalty has been abolished in a majority of countries across the world, but still remains active in one third of the world. The death penalty has a lot of ethical and moral matters tied to it. In a world of individuality there is a divide on the people, for the death sentence and those against it. Many view it as a barbaric and cruel punishment that violates the constitutional right of a human being. Whilst other view it as a just punishment for serious crimes. This paper will look at the history of the death penalty in Australia in body one. Then in body two, lead on to a recent case known as the ‘Bali nine’ which was

The year was 1949 and there was a blur of green and blue passing by the window of a Cadillac 2-door automobile. It was a darling shade of eggshell white. In the sleek vehicle held a happily married couple and they were on their way to their nation’s capital of Washington D.C. . Elizabeth Diane Winters had the car window rolled down with her right hand hanging out, her fingers fluttering in the wind. This was their first honeymoon even though she and Adam had been together for about 3 years. They had had a shotgun wedding due to them both being called to serve for their country, and Elizabeth was excited to spend this time with Adam. They had already been in the area for a few days and had taken up residence at a lovely bed and breakfast in Williamsburg, Virginia.

“And that's when we ran to you.” “We've never seen the east wing,” Dad said confused “ we will ask around the lab tomorrow to see if we can get any information.” “Goodnight kids and be ready earlier tomorrow!” Mother had said as she starts walking down the hallway.

“Uh, yeah! Sure!” When I knew I was l alone I ran all over town looking for the source of the snow. I finally found it at an abandoned warehouse just outside of town. I waited a couple of seconds before saying something but before I could, someone spoke.