Brief and Possibly Unnecessary Author’s Note:
I was having some trouble coming up with new ideas last week for my free-write, so I decided to write a scene from my book that I hadn’t yet, and incorporate one of the themes into that. However, I was unaware that I would actually have to finish the story, and It had to be 500 words or less. Considering the climax and conclusion of my book were probably several thousand words away from the free-write segment, I decided I ought to tell a different story.
So here it is. Enjoy!
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Nathan patted the desk frantically.
“Where are my keys?” he said through gritted teeth.
He rustled piles of papers aside, and shoved open
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Can I get a second witness to the monkey-ninja?”
“Dude, calm down. maybe you left them in your car.” someone suggested.
He knew they weren’t there, but he checked anyway. He was pretty desperate now.
If his desk was a dangerous forest, then surely his car was the site of a nuclear detonation. He remembered then that he had meant to clean it before the date.
Nathan threw all his rage into organizing. He might as well do it now, since the keys were nowhere in sight. He collected wads of paper and wrappers from the floor and unearthed ancient artifacts from beneath the seats. He even took time to straighten the glove-box.
When he stood back and looked at his work, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud. At least, his mother would be proud, he thought.
He was proud, that is, until the memory of his original task came back to smack him in the face.
He dashed back into the office, his mind blank of all places they could be.
“I still can’t find them!”
“You spent a while out there, man. I thought you might have.”
“No,”
He thought he’d take one last glance at his office. He was running out of time.
But as soon as he entered the cubicle, his eyes latched on to the very object he was looking for. The way the bright metal reflected the buzzing fluorescent lights, at that moment, was beautiful indeed.
“Found ‘em!” he shouted in triumph, holding the jingling key ring high above his head. The soothing sounds those keys made was the finest of music.
He would
Monkeys and humans have been compared for years, we have all heard the expression “Monkey see, Monkey do”. Analyzing individual primates at the Santa Ana Zoo was quite an experience because when I use to hear monkeys I use to only picture one certain appearance and that was a brown monkey with a light brown face, and a long tail. Moneys are not just monkeys, humans aren’t just humans, and apes aren’t just apes they are all primates which is a mammal that has certain characteristics such as: flexible fingers and toes, opposable thumbs, flatter face than other mammals, have eyes that face forward and spaced close together, large and complex cerebrum, and they are also social
The book Monkey Bridge, by Lan Cao, is a semi autobiographical book that goes into the mind of a young Vietnamese woman named Mai. She grew up in Saigon during the Vietnam war, and fled to America in 1975. She's haunted by the horror of wars, is is desperate to forget her past and emerge herself into the American dream. But her mother, Thanh , is tethered to the ways, and tradition of Vietnam, and is scared of her new home. This results in Mai taking charge of the household, and in lots of ways nurturing her own mother. This mutated mother daughter relationship result in a void between them. The author uses this tension to create themes; War, and change can even split the bonds of a mother and daughter, and when one is split between two different worlds you can never be completely committed to either. But this book is misrepresented by its current cover, that does not show the depth of the book. A new cover is need to
I was in high school the first time I had to write a narrative. I was a freshman. This was Ms. Bradley’s first time teaching at Union Christian Academy. On her first day, she gave us our syllabus and said, “I do not accept late work, especially on writing assignments.” We, literally, sat there stunned. My freshman class had it very easy during eighth grade year. We were not expecting this. As I looked through the syllabus, I saw that our first assignment was due in a week and it was a narrative. At this time, I did not even know what a narrative was. Ms. Bradley explained that a narrative was an account or story of events. It could be either true or false. Our narrative had to be true. It had to be a true account of something that happened to us over the summer. She wanted to gauge how are writing skills were. Our narrative had to be at least two to two and a half pages long. I chose to write my first ever narrative on my trip to Fort Worth, Texas. Once again, I was plagued with writer’s block. I had the story in my head, but everything I
I wait for Nico’s footsteps to retreat, then dash to the wall with my drawings, lift them up, and pull out the wall-drawer. I dig through it, checking if everything is still there.
He rushed into the house and into his study. He rifled through the papers on his desk and when he didn’t find what he was looking for, he started
There was an hour maybe two before sunset and the end to a day of hard work. He had spent most of the day packing and repacking his own wagon in preparation of tomorrow’s departure. The wagon he was currently using belonged to the inn. It wasn’t easy trying to
She told the boys, “You boys did a fine job; your father would be proud of you- I’m proud of you.” And she was proud of them. She could see that they too, were proud of their accomplishment.
He had clearly been thinking about
This statement shows us he faced his own fears and was brave enough to complete the
It was in that moment, his vision filled with the sorry remnants of his home, that he realized that he had to stop this at all costs.
He stared talking about the yellow car. He told about his wife coming home from the
Could Voodoo be nothing but evil, black magic, and the work of the devil? Is voodoo really an evil religion that sacrifices humans as well as animals to the demonic Gods? When I first did my paper on Voodoo, the first thing that came to my mind was how Hollywood portrayed Voodoo. When people see something on television or at the movies, they believe it to be reality. Undoubtedly, misconceptions will occur, and unless people are shown evidence against the delusions, it will be taken as fact. I think Voodoo religion is as acceptable as Christianity or any other religion. Voodoo has been tainted from the true principals and understanding.
Repeatedly, his committed mother would tell him with tears in her eyes that he could do it. Every time, with his shining eyes, he would utter, “You think so?” and she would smile yes.
he knew he had done his job. Auditing, he was finding out, wasn't quite so cut-and-dried.
"Well boss we were wondering you had the plans for the outer building, Tom lost them" He looked away, rubbing his throat "Can't trust him much eh?" Blake replied. Some people are magnificent lairs, but this man was not among them. Looking away and touching vulnerable body parts are a known signs for lying. I paused before replying thinking about my response. "Sure, here are the plans, don't lose them this time eh?" I said passing him the sheets of paper. A small amount of relief passed his face "Sure Kody, see you tomorrow" He rushed quickly leaving. Maybe he would realise he admitted to losing them, or maybe he was too stupid to see the implication. Doesn't matter either way, it was a small entertainment. Glancing at my watch, I decided to head home. Locking the door behind me, I plugged earphones in and started to walk