Analysis Of English Narrative: Absinthe

The Queen’s sleepwalking is now a nightly habit. She talks about the unnatural doings of Scotland and its people, and rubs her hands, as if cleaning them, while claiming there is blood all over them. “Out, damned spot! Out I say!” Her outburst

Once there was a semi-barbaric king who used his riches to get whatever he and himself wanted. The king decided to make a coliseum the would determine the fate of a criminal accused of committing a crime. After the king had made the laws for his entertainment it was announced to him by a bystander that his lovely daughter that he loved greatly, had fallen in love with someone “unworthy”. The princess loved, the man she loved by knowing he was handsome, strong, and the most brave someone could be. The king had been filled with rage when he heard of it’s knowability. It took the king merely the blink of an eye to order the young man that his daughter swooned over to be sent to prison. A date was set for the man's trial in the king's coliseum. The king had interviewed every worthy woman to marry the prisoner, and choose the maiden the princess had hate with burning passion. The princess had paid the worker to tell her what door the tiger was going to be

I failed AP English. I had missed the second quarter of the school year, almost completely, due to… technical difficulties. I got discharged from the hospital mid-February, and for the remainder of junior year, the majority of my waking thoughts revolved around passing 11th grade. With motivational speeches coming at me from my parents, friends, and teachers, I began to believe I had a chance of passing the year. I did my best, which apparently was not enough. My teacher had picked up on my tremendous amount of effort, and on the last day of school, bumped my grade up to a low D — just enough to pass. I was not exactly about to put my grade on display or anything, but I passed! Technically. This is not one of the underdog-who-succeeded stories. The real success for me was (look away, it’s cliché) realizing my best was enough. I sound disgusting.

Up and coming country artist Abi Ann made waves when she announced that she would be joining Kelly Clarkson, Pentatonix and Eric Hutchinson on Clarkson's Piece By Piece Tour. Recently voted Indie Music Channel's Favorite Country Artist and Artist of the Year, Abi Ann is currently supporting her newest EP, 17. The eighteen-year-old musician was the first to take the stage for the July 28 concert in Cincinnati, and she lit up the stage with her energized performance.

Ever since Hunter Jordan died, Ruth and James were heavily affected. In order to combat this, they both use different ways to grieve over his death. To begin, Ruth, James’ mother, rides her bike to grieve for her husbands death. To show proof, James says, “She would ride in slow motion across our street… It was her way of grieving,” (7). As one can see James believes his mother rides her bicycle to grieve for her deceased husband. In addition, James also notes, “it was something [the bike] my stepfather found on the street in Brooklyn and hauled home a few months before he died.” (5). To explain, James says that his stepfather found the bike and brought it to Ruth a few months before he died, so Ruth uses it to remind her of her husband. Furthermore, another way Ruth grieves is in church. James says, “she would occasionally do something in church that I never saw her do at home… she would bow down her head and weep.” (50). As one can see, Ruth cries in church to grieve for her husband because if her kids see her, they would think she is crying because God makes her happy.

We Tell Stories is talks about stories of our ancestors and our traditions. The book “Borderlands” by Anzaldua shows that traditions can be easily broken in order to fight for one’s future. If no one is supporting that decision, it is essential that people continue with their gut feeling. In the book “borderlands”, Anzaldua stated that if breaking traditions is the correct decision, then people should follow that decision. At the end of the day, the correct decision is going to be yours and it is your future. When people are forced to do certain things, they end up hating that decision and resent the person that forced them to take that decision. Traditions are very old and sometimes old does not mix well with modern

Diamonds were fluorescent against the black firmament of the sky but the brightest star was nowhere to be seen. Gone were the canines that were polished by escaping beams of laughter, the ruby stain that trickled up her cheeks, the aura of comfort and vulnerability, and in it’s place stands naīve oblivion. Empty laughter and empty feelings and empty people.

It was almost as if the world had become brighter, more alive. She saw the moon glowing through the window behind the armchair, and felt as if she had been jolted awake from a deep sleep. An electric shock- painful, stinging- spread throughout her body, and made the image of Reesa screaming in front of her very vibrant. But Marya could not hear her screams, nor her pleas of mercy from the large, muscular dark figure that held her back from reaching Marya’s hand, from taking comfort in her one and only friend’s reassuring touch. She saw Reesa’s father step out from behind the muscular man, baring a wicked grin, and whispering vengeance into her ear, but she did not hear

I swore off love ever since Irene broke my heart almost a thousand years ago, but Catherine makes her look like a rock! Screw being a Sage and meditating all alone! My little brother downstairs wants to say hi! I feel him rise up, hardened like a divine rod and putting up a tent in the front of my divine robes. I ran towards her.

“Of course you didn’t mean for this to happen. Bizarre things like this aren’t meant to happen, but the king is dead.” I said looking him straight in his tear filled eyes. I saw the look of apprehension clearly taking over his mind. “If it hadn’t been for you, he would still be

He did not appear to be the type to play the senseless game that was politics. To be someone's Queen held the promise of freedom... and affection. The latter of the two was a seemingly foreign concept, but she would love to see what it was like to be with a person that she, at least so far, liked. Yet again the sound of her own heart racing drummed in her ears. The precious and, for now, vital organ constantly attempting to lodge itself in her gullet, but the girl was determined, if not stubborn. The last kiss of her life. Such words did not escape her, for there was little doubt that her next kiss would be as cold as his icy blue gaze. At his question a smile tugged at the corner of her soft lips before their were happily seized. Again

On January 28, 2016, I, Cpl. Lessane, with the Hampton County Sheriff’s Office, assisted Sgt. Michael Thomas, with the Estill Police Department, with a possible stolen motorcycle.

Queen Blair takes a break and relaxes on her balcony. The red and yellows of the sunset catch her attention. That is until it is stolen by small movements in the corner. Upon further inspection she made out small figures with long hair. The trolls! “That evil monster!”, she thought to herself. It seemed that the trolls were taking her plants. But why? “No wonder! That’s why the South side is flourishing once more!”, she discovered. Blair woke the next morning to soft bird chirps beside her window. She was planning on running her daily herb run straight to South Mountain. Straight to Eleanor. She marched through the abundant forest on a mission. Once the large brown castle came into view she pranced towards the front door. Queen Eleanor revealed herself when the door came swinging open. “No wonder the South side is growing. I should've known nothing good can ever come from you”, explained Queen Blair. In a frenzy Queen Eleanor pounced at Blair. In an instant there was chaos. Sparks flying through the air. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. It was only a matter of who had the most power. Queen Blair held off using her ice

A chilled breeze caused my hair to stand up on end, so I peek over my shoulder to see the window in my bedroom door open. The blue, polka-dotted whipped around violently but I couldn 't hear the sounds of a strong wind. Huh, could have sworn I 'd closed that. . . I spring to my feet and shiver as I step across the cold floor toward my room. On my tip-toes, I pull the screen down to shut it and take a minute to stare out the window. The moon cast a dim light over the small town, illuminating only the fronts of houses and the tip of trees, abandoning all else to darkness. A light fog danced in the distance and I smiled thinking how perfect it looked on Halloween 's night. I looked down from the top floor one last time then tugged the curtains shut.

Touched by fading moonlight, the girl looked pale as a ghost, distressed and sorrowful. Great drops fell from her eyes; the heavy rain clouds in her mind let loose their turbulent nature. She felt the muscle of her chin trembled like a small child, again, she looked toward the window as if the darkness outside could soothe her. However, she tried to keep her sobbing down by biting her lips, afraid the woman would “visit” again. Meanwhile, in the hallway, there was only deadly silence, creating an overwhelming sense of emptiness.