Canoeing Short Story

So here's how it all started I was on a boat going to go hunt for game. Until the captain pointed out ship trap island in the distance. I heard 3 gun shots and ran to the rail to see what happened I dropped my pipe and tried to catch it but instead i plunged into the water. I swam with all my might to get to shore because the the water was freezing cold so i swam towards the shots because it meant shelter in my head then i fell asleep.I woke up and went to find some food I saw the remains of a dead animal and a rifle cartridge and some foot prints.

One warm summer morning my sister, dad, and I were sitting and watching T.V. and my best friend’s dad called and invited us over for the weekend. He said

b. Bandicoot-a small animal in Australia that looks like a cross between a rat and a rabbit

It all started on a warm sunny day, my dad had just arrived from Michigan. He came into the house gave my siblings, my mother and me a hug and told us the big news. “We are moving to Michigan” he said. He said it so calmly as if expecting my siblings, my mother and myself to react in a good way. Immediately I started to panic, I didn’t want to leave the place I grew up in. I was only eleven years old, I didn’t know how the people in Michigan would be. Finally I spoke “ I don’t want to move dad, I love it here!” which he responded with “I’m sorry but we are going to move because we can’t afford to live here anymore” He said this so emotionless as if not knowing how this could affect me. I hardly got any sleep that night for the fact that my parents were arguing for what felt like all night, but in reality was just an hour.

We get back into the car. I breathe deeply. Through puffs of smoke, Thomas says, “That guy sounds like a dick.” We merge onto a different highway. The sun is rising. I think only of the Pacific Ocean, of the light on the water, of the sound of waves crashing over my feet. I remember kayaking on the ocean with my father and his friend. I was young, nine or ten. On top of the waves, my father told me that we were going to roll the kayak. He said that while we were under the water, I couldn’t let go of him. He said that I had to make him proud, that I would be in trouble if I embarrassed him in front of his friend. He said that my sister was too afraid to roll the kayak, but I was different, I was brave. Once we got under the water, dad kept flailing around. He tried to push me off of him, but my legs were locked around his chest. He was testing me, but I wouldn’t let go. My lungs burned. I told myself that I just needed to hang on ten more seconds, ten more seconds. I thought I could hear my dad’s voice under the waves. Someone was under the waves with us. Arms pulled me away from dad, but I fought them. The arms were too strong, they pulled me into the air and held me above the waves. I thought that dad would be furious that I had let go, but once he rolled the kayak back up, dad looked afraid. His friend asked him what had happened. Dad said he wasn’t strong enough to roll us back up, that he couldn’t breathe, that he

On page 12, he wiped the mud off his chest and walked out of the ravine. His friends were in front of him on the way out of the ravine. He thought the scenery looked different on his way out

It was a beautiful, sunny day in South Florida. I was six years old, playing by the pool with my new puppy. I loved swimming in the pool almost every day after school. I also enjoyed going out on our boat after school or crossing the street and going to the beach. My father came home one evening with some interesting news. Now, I do not remember exactly how I felt about the news at that time, but it seemed like I did not mind that much. He had announced that we were going to move back to my birth country, Belgium. I had been living in Florida for five years and it was basically all I had known so I did not know what to expect. I had to live with my mom at first, and then my sister would join us after she graduated high school and my father

As Bill took his first step in the woods, he takes a deep breath soaking in the scent of oak and fresh ash. “far removed from the seats of strife”, not having a warm bed or hot meals even a full night rest. Knowing he had one abventure ahead for Bill and Kats. Both having to hike 16 miles everyday over rocks,trees, crossing ice cold rivers, and hearding the rain outside of thier tend and the roaring of the bears at night.

My shoelaces whipped at the backs of my ankles, urging me forward. Rain-drenched, I ran. I had felt the venom of desperation before, but never of this caliber -this was its purest form. It tasted of whiskey. I 'd never been fond of whiskey. The branches of the fir trees scraped against my cheeks and I forced myself to feel each individual needle. I deserved as much. His voice laughed “Come find me” amongst the trees, echoing throughout the forest. It was a wet winter, as wet as one would think a winter could be with Washington 's climate. I slipped on the moss coated roots and sliced my right cheek on a jagged rock. By midnight, it would all be over.

He counted to ten, took another deep breath and set off running, every step taking him deeper into the emptiness of the wilderness. His long legs rapidly eating up the ground beneath him, digging his heels into the soft undergrowth. He was in for a long journey, every step of it alone. The cuts on his wrist stung as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of

My father drives on and not a word is said as we journey through the bitter and cold dark of the night. Shrouds of fog consume us as the truck pushes onward. My father strong and wise is one way of describing him, always providing great advice when it comes to making life choices. My father towers over others and he uses his height to his advantage when it comes to his job. Cutting down trees is how he makes a living and provides for his family, but due to the low pay his job isn’t always safe. My father and his work friends leave home at day-break and venture off into the heart of the woods where danger surrounds their every move. My father has come home in the past quite dampened, seeing this I was curious and remember hiding around the corner and listening in on the confession he had made. He told my mother that one of his close friends that he has known for countless years was mauled by a brown bear when out in the

Western and Indigenous knowledge systems differ in values, habits of mind and practices; however, there has been productive cross-cultural collaboration that integrates global vision with social and cultural dimensions. Productive collaboration addresses past contradictions in the coevolution of society, science and environment. Ten Canoes is a cross-culturally collaborative film that was meant to portray the Yolngu community in its true representation in an attempt to bridge the black and white Australian cultural divide by sharing its traditions and values with a non-Indigenous audience. Important spiritual and cultural information is shared throughout the passage of the film that frames and contextualizes the cosmology of the Yolngu people (Clothier & Dudek, 2009: p. 85). Dutch-born director Rolf De Heer and Yolngu director Peter Djigirr consolidate to show modern audiences the “community’s cultural continuance and to connect between individuals and the community both past and present” (Clothier & Dudek, 2009: p. 86). Additionally, Ten Canoes is only spoken in the Yolngu’s Indigenous language. For Yolngu audiences, “the use of their own languages in Ten Canoes highlights the vibrancy of a continuing linguistic heritage” (Clothier & Dudek, 2009: p. 87). Simultaneously, audiences that cannot understand the language of the Yolngu people read subtitles that create a critical intimacy to engage in “passion and reason while seeking understanding” (Clothier & Dudek, 2009: p.

I had just finished my basketball practice. I was feeling ecstatic because I was making baskets left and right like Kobe Bryant. My coach even told me that he has never seen me play like that before. Then I strutted outside and found my father parked outside the school in his large, brown pick-up truck. I hopped inside and turned my seat heater to high because it was frigid, winter weather outside. My dad made some casual small talk, then he gave me the news. He stated in a low, dull voice, “Hey Jack, grandma past away today.”

Having my dad around all the time wasn’t my everyday routine. I’d see him once or twice a week so I wasn’t very much used to see him every day. One day I came home after school and he and my mom were on the balcony talking, the notice I was staring, they both looked at me and called for a family meeting by the tone of their voices I could tell there was

I remember a time in my life not too long ago when my family and I went white water rafting for the first time. We had been spending some of our summer vacation at a cabin in the Smokey Mountains, close to Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The next day we would experience feelings of exhilarating excitement, with a sense of suspense and anticipation as we rafted down the Nantahala River.