Sixteen years, Kalyssa had waited for her family to come claim her. The tiny flicker of hope, the little girl inside of her tried desperately to shield, had flared to life at the time of reading her stepmother’s invitation. Later, however, it turned out they needed her help to find her stepsister, Ming. Not exactly the warm welcome, hug or apology, which she had expected; it should not have surprised her when a ripple of fear threaded through her, but it did.
Even now, having eked out a living with the monks’ help, the piercing loneliness that made breathing difficult and re-opened old wounds still haunted her. Doubts preyed on her mind, together with the voices in her head, whispering she didn’t belong or didn’t fit in always left her
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A forbidding stare, a severe rebuke, even cleaning the entire damn temple was enough of a penance she so rightly deserved. But, as for locking her up or chaining her to a stone wall, he’d have to catch her first.
Fastening the last button on her jacket, she realized the cold shower had not as yet dampened her anger. Inside the hidey-spots of her garments, and in the sheaths strapped to her thigh and forearms were her weapons. She supposed Tung would have a meltdown when he found she was no longer on temple grounds, and that she dared risk going out in public. Too bad. Besides, it seemed the irresistible draw of a too-tall male with long white hair, a savage beauty and a body of hard muscle… the sinful fantasy far outweighed the effects of a full moon and Tung’s temper.
Furthermore, when she made a promise, she kept it…
Drawing in a deep breath, she closed the door to her quarters behind her and listened for sounds of movement. Well, hell, it’s not like she was planning on sleeping over. Ah, but if the offer were there… She found herself disturbed because even knowing beyond any doubt Phenix was dangerous for her; she couldn’t stop the tingly sensation in her stomach, the hardening of her nipples when she thought of tangling with him again. It was exquisite torture. Madness, she wanted to indulge in.
With no sign of Tung insight and her path out of the main pavilion unobstructed, Kalyssa slid her shades over her eyes and slipped out of the temple.
Her mother, or so she imagined, was gentle with a set of blue eyes and red hair. Maddox was awfully marvelous at making a cherry pie so it became Georgiana’s favorite. She herself was a short fourth grader, just extending past the little kid stage, and exhibited her thankful nature every day. She had never heard of her father, yet longed to wonder why she did not have one. This thought occured, once she became mature. Georgiana also pondered that she had no other relatives that she had met. She was quite timid to ask Maddox, her mother, why this was so, and therefore it never happened.
Katherine Min’s short story, “Courting a Monk,” deals ostensibly with how the narrator, Gina, met, courted, and married her husband. However, Min uses the story to explore issues of cultural identity, the nature of Buddhist belief, the tensions between her and her father, and ultimately, the meaning of life. Throughout the story Min uses images of stillness contrasted with rapid movement and activity, and also uses people’s attitudes as words and language, including silence, to convey her main themes.
Throughout photographic history, the threshold that many artists had to overcome was conveying the meaning of their photographs to the public if any at all, and the orientation of the subjects in their photography. The intent of portrait photography is to display the likeness, personality, and even the mood of the subject. Nineteenth century photo historian Alan Trachtenberg notes, “Aspiring professionals wrestled with the problem: how to arrange their sitters and manipulate the often fickle medium to produce not just a picture but a pleasing one--not just a likeness but a portrait”(Trachtenberg, 24). Through these words of Trachtenberg, we can deduce that the main problem was how photographers manipulate their subjects in a way that would
I am applying to the Molecular Plant Science Doctorate program at Washington State University to continue my education and research. After four years of preparing, I am ready to take this next time and begin work on my doctorate. I can say confidently that I have the tools and the determination to excel in such a stimulating and challenging environment.
I glance at the training camp from afar – men frantically eating, spitting, shouting, arguing, showing their muscles, new tattoos, and battle scars. I continue to walk closer to the camp, noticing that the air is oozing with testosterone. It reeks of dirty socks and greasy food. I exclaim to Mushu, my scrawny guardian dragon who hides under my shirt, “I can’t do this. It’s disgusting here and they’ll totally know something’s up when they find out I can’t eat without washing my hands first.” Mushu laughs and assures to me that I just have to play the part and says “Mulan, they're men. And you're going to have to act just like them, so pay attention.” I run frantically into the roll call line, hopefully not garnering any attention from the
In this day and age, our new interest in using different generic ways of using gene editing or genetically modifying."Genome editing techniques have been used to change genomes into individual cells and in entire (non-human) organisms" (Andrew, par 10). Allowing for the human to function in a way where we can extend a human's expended life by solving any issue or concerns the spouses may have on if they will pass certain chromosomes into the child. Which are harmful, by simply removing or adding either or the four nucleotide bases inside one’s DNA. This is a blessing for future patients , but a scare for doctors and organizations like American Society of Human Genetics, who warn against it. However, they fail to realize that the use of
It will blare at 5:23, and I will leave at 5:44. In 7 minutes, I will reach the station. At 5:51, I will grab a bagel from Hackett’s bakery, right next to the tracks. Old Nadia Dax will be there before me, as always, so it will take an extra 3 minutes than it should. She strolls up and down the rows of goods, declaring she will try something new, only to settle for a crumpet each time. What a bother.
The room was set up to look like Geppetto's workshop with a large bed in the centre and a naked woman laying on it. There was a cameraman whose thick framed spectacles emphasize his intrusive owl eyes: peepers that could out-stare Yakuza gang-lords. His deep vertical wrinkles on each cheek look as if this thing's creator was an incompetent child artist that didn't have an eraser to correct the mistakes from which he or she doodled. His wiry body gave off a hatchling figure, and the aquiline nose and vulture sunken head added to the concoction of miscellaneous bird parts.
“Yes, I do Soldier, but that doesn't give you the right to taunt or steal things from a person.” replied Jacob. He knew that starting an argument with a soldier would land him in some some big trouble, and would keep him away from his motives, so he quickly apologized and swept away. He would soon come to know that that conversation would have affected him.
I did end making it through the whole month. I only ended up with $24 dollars left. For my explanation, it starts off with the job I chose. I decided to work at the restaurant because working in the factory could potentially give me injuries in the long run, and the office job would be detrimental to my health since it would require a lot of sitting down. Also, I feel that the restaurant tips could be good sometimes, so there is a chance of a good payday. The monthly take home pay after taxes is $1,048, with a weekly of $262. The cost of the apartment is $808 per month. Now making it to the end of the month was tough because of the sacrifices that I did have to make. Some of these sacrifices was for my children. I do feel that family does
I am looking at the Picture of Three Young Women standing awkwardly on a rock and an ocean behind. A dozen of children playing in the background on the shore; some of them were standing; some of them were crouching down and facing the sea and watching others playing in the swelling waves toward the shoreline.
I came to Houston for my college few years ago and since then I am living in the same neighborhood but there are some older people who are living here from the last couple of decades. There was a playground which used to be there for the community’s kids but now kids don’t go there anymore because of few bad reasons. Then there is a corner store which is a gas station and I get gas from there every week and I have been going to this store for a long time and I know the store owner. He told me about the crimes happened in the past and how his store is related in all these criminal activities but being a store owner he cannot do anything because he cares for himself and his family too.
My reactions to the situations and studies discussed is a combination of a few things. I felt very surprised by the things I read about, but it also made sense how some of the ways the names influenced others and it was very interesting to read about it. For example, the citizens in Quincy, Massachusetts donating to the small town of Quincy in Illinois solely because both citizens come from a city with the same name of each other. To me that was interesting because something like that is something we don’t encounter and I never really thought about how if we shared something such as a name of a town we are from with somebody else, it could influence you enough to do an action like donating. I really do agree with the findings in the