“Oww…. Oww… my back… it hurts!” Hazel sat up gingerly, lightly brushing her fingers along the back of her shirt, still sticky with blood. “Don’t touch idiot! I had to shred my coat to get those bandages, and you don’t want to reopen those wounds.” Siri scolded, lying her down on her stomach, “Sit down Xaj!” “I wasn’t tryin’ to get up,” Xaj argued, trying to wink at Hazel, but grimacing as he sat back down. Hazel peered around their surroundings, the building, still completely furnished was littered with stray papers, twisted pencils were stuck oddly in the ceiling, and a slight chilling wind blew in through a shattered window. She wanted to say something to Xaj and Siri, but she didn’t, she couldn’t find the words. It had been three …show more content…
Xaj sat quietly. Hazel was soon on her feet and hobbling gingerly around, supported by the lynx, who they had named Ira. “Xaj,” Hazel felt a strange sensation creeping up her throat, “Thanks.” The word felt strange and hot on her tongue, “Just… Thanks. For… the food… and the coin.” He didn’t reply. “Let’s go,” Even Siri felt the heaviness in the air, her blunt, obliviousness to the rest of the world couldn’t shield her from the force that had kept them together. That had kept a pickpocket from stealing what he wanted and running because he could, that kept a bad-mouth, lonely, furious kid from abandoning a burden, and that had brought a rich snob down to the floor to eat besides those without a penny to spare. “Bye,” Xaj looked up at her with cold eyes, a slight warmth flickered for a moment, then was replaced with stone. “Go on, get,” He jerked his head towards the stairs. They started to walk, trying to escape the pressing heartache that was bearing down on them, “Wait...” They turned back to Xaj, whose hardness had broke again, “Siri… You were so much like her… my sister... Eilsel. That… I just had to tell you.” Siri looked like she wanted to say something, but instead, she ran, took off pounding down the forty-six flights of stairs until she was in the lobby. Hazel followed, but she couldn’t stop looking back. They didn’t exchange a word as Hazel gently poured a few drops over Eilsel’s coin. It
Her skin was a little cool, so his hand at her elbow was hot in comparison. She chuckled a little after his question, a bit sheepishly as she admitted she did not remember the way clearly. However when Walt stopped to ask Edmund to grab her things, she gasped and flushed. "Oh no, I can't have that. It's okay, I can carry my own things. It's not a problem!" She protested, a moment before he dipped his head in to whisper in her
She nearly slide out of her seat when the car came to a stop, she lifted her head and looked at the male. “Worn someone when you are going to break the car so damn sudden.” She shouted at him. “I could have been killed.” She rolled her eyes. She knew she really wasn’t going to die but she could get badly hurt. “Why did you stop anyways we aren’t…” She turned her head to look out the window, she cocked her head to the side. She arched her brow a little. “Now that’s something you don’t see every day.” She spoke aloud so every in the car could hear
The Tropfest films Road Rage (2006) and Lemonade Stand (2012) both represent Australian stories and Australian voices. Both of the films explore the representation of Australians and show many different aspects of Australian culture. The film Road Rage expounds a different more emotional side to the typical stereotype of Australian men. Lemonade Stand also represents Australian culture, through the use of themes such as mateship and the Aussie Battler. Both of the films through the use of mis-en-scene and a variety of different visual and oral techniques show key aspects of Australian culture,
“What’s on your face? Have you been bleeding?” He rubbed a finger over her upper lip.
Samuel gazed pensively at Lelia, her soft, slate-blue eyes appeared dreamier than usual when she gazed up at him. With his heart beating faster than usual, Sam thought he felt Lelia faintly trembling. Taking a step back so he could study her intently, he tried to sound convincing when he whispered: “Hey, come on now, it’ll be okay.” He wiggled from one foot to the other.
A typical high-school student struggles in learning new concepts, in AP Language & Composition many students learn new challenging concepts which make the class difficult.
“Are you alright?” Cas asked after a few moments, turning to look at her with soft and concerned eyes. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”
Distinctively visual representations allow the audience to envisage different purposes crafting emotions which stay with us forever. Graphic depiction is a fundamental characteristic within distinctively visual, thus the audience is able to be exposed to the intense illustrations exemplified by composers. Spudvilla’s portrayal of “Woolvs in the sitee” demonstrates the child’s inability to reconcile with himself. Contrasting to this notion; the playwright “Shoe-horn Sonata” to expose the brutal reality of POW camps during WWII. Therefore, distinctively visual forces the audience to succumb to the barriers society creates.
Avi, though no longer tense, looked at the girl warily. Obviously, she knew Avi, but Avi struggled to put a name to the girl’s face, though she sounded familiar…and looked
Breathing deeply, she tucked her legs under her and rested her elbow on the arm of the chair. “I really don’t think I need to… she is non responsive, lost in her own world, I need to ensure that there are no neurological issues that are contributing to this.”
Before I even had a chance to respond, she was heading towards the exit. “Thanks, I’ll see you tonight!” I hollered after her, my voice echoing through the halls as if from the top of Mount Everest—except, I wasn’t on the top of Mount Everest, I was in Westdel. I collected my thoughts, scanned my card, and walked into the room, closing the door behind
1. David’s primary purpose in sending a message is to inform the reader that the car company will not honour the customer’s claim. The writer’s priority is to inform the reader that the company would like to honour the claim, but point out that it could not happen because the warranty is expired.
The flood of emotions tumbles out. A stream of questions, one after another, is rapidly fired at him - where did he go, why did he leave, and most importantly, why didn’t he say goodbye? All this time she’d spent waiting in the past, suspended in time, unable to receive any semblance of closure or composure. All the pent up emotions rush out of her and guilt flashes in his eyes. "Let’s go inside first,” he says, “I’ll explain what I
Writing a paper on the writing process is pretty hard. The writing process is different from one person to another. You come across questions like, 'What exactly is the writing process?'; and 'Must you follow one persons writing process if yours is different?'; This is where I came across the answer to my questions, write however you wish to write. If one person likes free write first and another person likes to write a draft first, let them do how they please.
“Yes, of course, I 'm listening.” Pins and needles prickle at my hands as the blood returns. I massage them together to ease the pain.