Analysis Of English Narrative: Absinthe

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.

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.

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

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

Jolie tried her hardest to remain quiet as she entered the dark, musty basement that smelt like dead animals. The music played loudly, which masked the creaks of the stairs she stepped on. She gripped the broom tightly in her hand. Jolie squinted her eyes around to make out anything that made the music turn on or the loud crashes. Her eyes rested on a man and she tried her hardest not to panic. She quickly, but quietly turned around and walked up the stairs trying to remain calm all the while. When the man started humming along with the violin music she began to cry; she didn’t want to cry. Jolie gripped the railing and the broom slipped from her hand and fell down the stairs. The man jerked around made eye contact with her. He was frowning and then a devilish smirk appeared. She let out the scream she had been holding in for what seemed like forever. Jolie

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

“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

The sun broke through the grey and breathed life into the awakening city. The woman’s eyes though opened, were empty and moved accordingly to the flock of doves that soared through the chilled air. She gazed at the beautifully choreographed dance above where delicate wings formed prominent silhouettes against the comforting rays. The ancient apple tree which only last month was a mess of unruly twigs and withered leaves had now flourish into a bounty of lively red apples that heralded the Springtime. The richness of the sanctuary generated distant and painful memories in her head like the scenes of a tragic movie. She could still picture the remorseful look in the man’s eyes during his last breath. Her father, a man of ambitions and responsibilities, was not the father to throw her into the sky and tell her how much he loved

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.

This took place in a quiet, and rather cold December. The embers from the fire put small light through the room and left shadows spreading across the floor. He wished that tomorrow would come. He wanted his book to bring him and end to his sadness. The sadness he has is from the passing of a woman named Lenore. She was a special woman, not one you could replace.

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

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.