Cas About The Pencil Crumbling

Deep in the Alps lies a small town called Clay. The sun was rising over a frosty blue mountain, and drops of dew dripped down from the leaves in the valley. Arthur awoke to find his bedroom filled with light. He went downstairs and drank a glass of water, not hungry enough for food. Arthur went outside into the chilly morning and started walking down the road. The road was lined with hundreds of huge alpine trees. A large flock of birds flew over Arthur’s head in the sky.

The sun was glistening through the tall, swaying pines. To the right of the trail, a gentle river flowed softly down towards the mouth of the lake. Walking across the rickety wooden bridge, I inhaled a deep breath of refreshingly crisp mountain air. The sun beat down on me as I made my way across the bridge and back onto the well-used hiking trail. The ambient sounds of chirping birds, babbling water, and the croaks of several frogs filled my ears as I made my way around the bend. As I entered the mouth of the forest, I could see my father standing in the middle of the path, glancing upwards, taking in the beauty that had began to engulf us. “We better get going.” he said, looking back at me. “There’s still many miles to go.” I smiled and turned, taking in one last view of the beautiful creekside. Then, with determination, we set out to finish the challenging trek we had started.

“The people came out of their houses and smelled the hot stinging air and covered their noses from it. And the children came out of the houses, but they did not run or shout as they would have done after a rain” (3). This is a perfect description of the setting. It contains the hopelessness that people felt during that

There was music from my neighbor’s house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens men and women came and went like moths among the whisperings of champagne

​Leonardo Drew's artwork is brilliant and very original. He uses lines perfectly to dictate the flow of the peices he is working on. This causes his artwork to not at first have meaning but the longer you observe the more the art takes on different ideas. He also use shapes very efectivly with peices of wood and debris. From the tiny slivers of particle board to gigantic branches every peice is important to the overall work. He uses these peices to create an overall shape based off of an image or idea. His artwork takes up entire gallarys with large fences and rusted metal objects.

“There once was a time when it did not rain for a great many months. The Prairie turned brown from the Sun, and the Great River that nurtured the land began to dry up. The Plants struggled against the dry Earth to breathe and grow, while the Animals became weak and could not hunt. All the while the People waited, looking towards the sky and wondering what they had done to bring such misfortune upon themselves. While the People waited, Fear grew. This Fear grew so quickly that in a very short time it began to spread across the entire Prairie, choking out everything and everyone in its path until at last it covered all but one very small place in the Prairie where only the Children and the Old Ones would sit and play together.

I think the watering symbolized growth and change as some people in the town were trying to make change and be better. Not losing hope and standing up for what they believed in. This reminds me of a person named Rosa Parks who fought for what she believed in by not moving to the back of the bus. Helping giving rights to the blacks and helping creating a change. Her fight gave hope to so much and had a huge impact on the people around her.

The reason for conducting this experiment was to find out if colored pencils can be more dangerous than a regular, wooden pencil. The hypothesis states that if the lead in a colored pencils is exposed to flame then it will be more flammable than the lead in a regular wooden pencil. The independent variable was the brand of the colored pencil. The dependent variable was the flammability of the colored pencil’s lead. The flammability of the colored pencil will be measured by mass to see which one changed in mass the most. The colored pencil will be weighed to see how many grams it is. After lighting flame to the colored pencil, it will be weighed again to see how much the mass changed. The results of this experiment were very similar. In each

My composition is entitled Sunday by the Lake. We are residents of the Houston area, a huge urban environment plagued by traffic, crime, and growing industrial development. Often, Sunday presents the opportunity to rest and visit Lake Houston, which is only a ten-minute drive from my home. Lake Houston is my escape from the stress of Houston. My children generally accompany me to the lake, playing in the playground, running and screaming. Although loud, their laughter adds to the natural music I find at the lake. We take a lakeside stroll, chat with fisherman, and simply enjoy the beauties of life.

The project took a lot of time with limited tools and resources but the young engineer and eager villagers were able to construct a water tower that would supply the farms with plenty of water. This project was only going to help one village but this was only the beginning. The small stocky man had changed the village for the better and he had earned the trust of the people. This first experience ignited a passion that would dictate the rest of his career and

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.

In the rural southwestern part of Pennsylvania, there is a house built on the waterfall. The water flows down into the stream and echoes within the forest. The flow of the water passing through the house sends out its sounds down on to the banks below. Maybe that’s why the house was named “Falling Water.” This house was made to be something more than just a house. It gives off a peaceful vibe and the water and the nature of the surrounding environment gives of a pleasant feeling of peace.

Are you planning to kill someone? More importantly, are you planning to kill someone and get away with it? If the answer to either of these questions is no, put this down and walk away. You saw nothing. You heard nothing. You remember nothing. You are nothing.

It’s cool and dark outside of the car as we drive, dark clouds hovering over the plains as fat, heavy drops of water fall from the full clouds. The lights of cars and streetlights and cars blur with the flow of water on the side windows, our speed not fast enough to force the drops to flow back along the windows. It’s not until we start on the highway and the water starts to move that I find my objects of interest in front of me in the form of the rain and the memories of my childhood that surface with them.

The downpour recounts an idiosyncratic phenomenon from his childhood that lingered a cherished occurrence on the writer’s mind; watching as the rain drenched earth and everything on it, then becoming shadowed by the vehement thunder to follow, impacted the writer tremendously as the result/damage of the aforementioned coerced an aesthetic appreciation towards this phenomenon. This heavy downpour embarked the unforgettable memories of playing outside in the heavy rain as he reminisced on the vast imagery of nature’s elements along with the striking sounds that followed. In this extract, the writer’s application of stylistic devices and emotive languages such as: his amplification of “The Downpour” in his description, energizing personifications,