Anthony Night Monologue

The shore near, the scent of home far, but I clung on. The rough bark of the log chafed against my bare chest, and my hands were weary from holding on. I inhaled, praying that my body can push toward the sand, and I felt my strength bitterly rise for a last stand. I heaved my futile body on the dry sea of sand and quietly allowed the light to dance one last time in the sunset of my existence.

The rain had just stopped pouring, and we had all gathered in a park nearby, as a makeshift memorial for Johnny. It wasn’t really a funeral, we didn’t have the budget for that, and it wasn’t like his parents cared enough to give him a proper goodbye.

I kept writing. It was hard, but I could get everything off of my chest. I could explain to people what had happened to me. I could tell my English teacher. It was a little hard, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. Greasers didn’t cry.

Lee’s writing is littered with descriptive and flowery visuals that truly capture both the environment and his emotions. In one such case, he recalls an evening where he “[stared] at the brightest star, viewing it not so much on this night as a beacon, something [he] wanted to believe would lead [he] out of this dark tunnel, but instead as a place [he’d] rather be” (155). His juvenile wistfulness is tangible in the words and the reader can almost feel the chill of the night air. He continues, wishing to be “anywhere but here…[wishing to have] been born anywhere but here.” (155). His yearning twists the heart with sympathy for his lonesome and pitiable plight. This moment is but a minute fraction of the incredibly intimate tale that Lee

Such a long explanation seems out of place in a poem full of fast-paced action, supernatural beheadings, seductive temptresses, and jolly hunts. The narrator realizes this but plunges into his description after inserting a disclaimer: ``And why the pentangle is proper to that peerless prince / I intend now to tell, though detain me it must'' (30. 623-4). This alerts the reader to pay attention, that the symbolic meaning of the pentangle is important to a proper understanding of thenarrator's message.

Daniella Owusuwaah Ashley Dunn THE 191: Section K 28, April 2015 Avenue Q: Sesame Street Meets South Park Avenue Q is a laugh-out-loud, fast moving musical that is an adult version of Sesame Street that address racism, pornography, homophobia, and the parable of finding one’s purpose in life through satirical songs. On Friday, April 17, I saw Miami’s production of Avenue Q directed by Ms. Saffron Henke at the Gates-Abegglen Theatre. This unique show uses puppets as a shield to explore issues that are often hard and sensitive to talk about; it’s easy to talk about racism when it’s through a puppet. I believe that the goal of Miami’s production of Avenue Q was to present and educated to the community and the students about issues such as

Gregory, a comedy writer, entered into a contract with Wessel, a comedian. The contract provided that Gregory would provide Wessel with a 15 minute monologue for his upcoming appearance on the comedy Hour and that Wessel would pay Gregory $250. All Performers on the comedy Hour make $500 per appearance. As Gregory knows, the last time Wessel appeared on the Comedy Hour he was asked to make special guest appearances at three local comedy clubs using the same monologue. Wessel earned a total of $750 for the three performances. Shortly before Wessel was scheduled to appear on the comedy Hour, Gregory informed Wessel that he was unable to provide the monologue. As a result, Wessel was forced to cancel his appearance. Wessel sued for breach of contract and requested damages of $1,250. What will result? Issue, -

Part 1: The hero's name is Antonio Brown. He is a football maniac. He can catch passes with one hand, and he doesn't even need to look. He is a bit of a sore loser, though. He can dish it, but he can't take it. He wears a black shirt, with a pair of yellow pants. Him and the villain did not meet until early 2011. But, boy, they sure do really hate each other.

Oh God, God forgive me I came to this town to call out the devil but instead I have seen innocent people’s necks break before me. From the moment I arrived here I could feel the presence of evil but little did I know it was a teenage girl plotting her revenge. My coming to Salem meant having full trust in my books which were weighted with God’s Justice but now everyone of those books is another brick crushing my soul. I have always been a man of God and I used to believe that everything I did was for him.

It all started the day I died. I think I should formally introduce myself, My name was Craig Crow and I lived in Alabama on a corn farm with my wife and two beautiful twin sons. We lived in a house with 3 bedrooms and a very small crawl space in the attic. The barn was old with bright red paint and big white sliding doors, we owned 2 horses, one for me and one for my son. The only way for us to get into town was a small green beaten up pickup truck that had been passed down for generations. The house had been passed down just like the truck had been and my whole family is buried here, including my wife and I.

Inspector Male, I just wanted to reach out and let you know the amazing efforts of Andrew Crowe and Greg MacArthur on Monday December 28th. Sorry for the long winded e-mail but I think it’s necessary.

Hi me name sarny I am going to tell you about Nightjohn. One morning Old Waller brought Nightjohn and he be as black as night. When they showed up Nightjohn was naked and the be so hot and I be likeing him lot and I be noing that he likes me. Then waller asked every one if they have any tobacco and every one said yes but not me I wanted to keep all of my tobacco.

It changes everytime you ask. Some say it was a virus, others say it was god punishing us for our sins. At least that’s what the people on the news say. All I know is that the dead are walking among us. I’ve seen people I used to know attack and eat innocent people. Everyday I see my dad walking among them, wishing there something i could have done. I couldn’t bring myself to kill one of the only people i’ve loved. He attacked me but i managed to fight him off and i’ve been held up in my house ever since. It’s a small house, nothing fancy, in a small town near Chicago called Glenview. Everyday I think about my half brother that lived in New York with his mom. After my dad and his mom split I didn’t think life could get any worse, I was

The random movement of the nightmare was also the controlled movement of a poem, in which a quality of feeling might be stated or suggested and only much later justified. But it was justified at last.

The series commands guide you spatially and logically through the scenes in the house, describing what is happening in an as-a-matter-of-fact manner. In the second stanza, the author instructs to “Take” (9), “spread” (12), and again “Let” (15). The sequence of commands is so frequently scrawled throughout the stanzas that this sense of being chaperoned becomes expected and fully accepted. The final commands at end of each stanza, “Let be be finale of seem” (7) and “Let the lamp affix its beam” (14), both relate to remaining firmly planted in reality. Line seven can be restated as 'allow things to be exactly as they seem. Don't try and explain them or give them unnecessary depth.' Line fifteen is a command to not be blind to the facts of reality. Lift the veil and behold the truth before you. Finally, the statement, “The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream” (8,16), which concludes each stanza in the poem, is a decree of a fact, which is made believable by the establishment of absolute influence by the speaker throughout the poem.