Frank Narrative

“We were only eighteen when we wedded. She was the love of my life. I still remember our wedding day like it was just yesterday. She stood there at the end of the isle, looking gorgeous as always. Her gentle, ivory shoulders were exposed through the lace of her wedding dress and her luscious strawberry blonde hair fell in perfect ringlets around her pale, yet flawless face.”

“Not bad,” replied Gabby, who had thrown her bag up on the counter and was trying to fish out a lighter, “just got off!” Both of her stockings had a run in them and flicks of discarded food stuck to the sides of her tennis shoes. Her dress was black and sparkling. Vernon could tell she worked at another diner the moment she got out of the cab. The waitress flipped over an empty cup and poured out what was leftover of the coffee. Gabby had lite her cigarette, inhaled a drag, took a sip, and exhaled out a thick cloud of smoke in one single breath. “Ended up pulling a double?” The swirls in the smoke seemed to actuate Gaby's words. “Don’t remind me!” replied the waitress, who had removed one of her flats and was rubbing her heel, “I’ve been on and off my feet since 9:30 this morning.” Gabby looked towards the front of the diner at the back of Vernon’s head and then back at the waitress. “Rough night?” “Nope,” replied the waitress, “he’s been coming in here late for the last month or so, keeps to himself.” They both could see that Vernon was moving his hands while he was talking to himself. “We still on for tonight,” asked Gabby. “Maybe,” said the waitress, “as long we can get a table.” The band aids on the back of her heels needed to be replaced with new ones. Gabby

The sparks fly in the air, there are marshmallows in your hair, and you’re with your favorite people in the world. This is called the best place on earth, for me at least. I enjoy camping so very much, you meet new people, experience different things, make new memories, and have a blast. You also see new sights, smell some things, and always wake up to the birds singing and not the bustling streets of the city. Camping is my go to activity.

I never thought that I would be saving someone life from drowning. That was until my friends and I did help someone. Which was something that happened very fast.

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

As the All-League bowlers made their way into the "arena" it was as if Walter Ray WIlliams, Pete Weber, or the Hall of Famer Tommy Tuttle (yes those are real bowlers...look it up) walked into the room. Greatness was all around. While Guy was excited to see the best the bowling world has to offer, he decided to take photos of less important people who were there bowling for leisure and no the thrill of competition. Guy had to use a flash on his camera to capture the amature bowlers who were more interested in enjoying  time with friends and family rather than working on their 7-10 split. (those people don't deserve to live). The flash from the camera upset the mighty bowlers and Guy was told not to take any more photos. His feelings were hurt, and his dreams were crushed. How could he get the perfect shot of the perfect

Philbert is known as a comedy guy at his school, a little school named Rocky middle school in the middle of Mississippi. All that's on Philberts mind is that it's the end of the semester and he can go home and play baseball with his brand new glove. On the way home his friends were awkwardly quiet, not the average guy that likes peace sometimes, I can't go an hour without some kind of action(unless I'm going to sleep ) so as soon as I went to go find my mom.

Baghdad, Iraq is where I was born and raised; I lived there for about 6 years during the most pivotal years of the war. My dad left when I was about 7 months. He went to Lebanon to live for a few years before settling in the United States. My mom took care of me and my siblings. War was going on in Iraq; people walked with a dying heart. Iraq was split into Shiite, Sunni, and Christianity. Sunni and Shiite do not have any issues with one another, but there are people who do not like the Shiites and caused civil strife between the two divisions of Islam. My family is Shiite and we do not believe in a separation between anyone because we are one, they are

It was a sunny bright Friday afternoon and I was at school. I knew today was going to be the day, the day I get my new bike. After school my dad picked me up and drove home, so I can change out of my uniform and grab something to eat. I remembered my stomach feeling strange, I was so excited getting my new bike that I couldn't even eat. We went back in the car to go to Kmart. Even though Kmart was only like five minutes, it felt like I was in the car forever. I remember I was thinking of all the features my new bike was going to have.

“I’ve told you a hundred times already you’re not getting a gun!” Mary scolded Morgan, her face reddening, and her eyes narrowing in frustration at having to repeat herself to him over and over again. She then dropped her Marlboro to the ground extinguishing it under her foot. “You see that, that’s what I think of your hopes of you ever get your hands on a firearm are. There’s all your hopes, squashed under my foot.” She continued bitterly as she ground the cigarette butt further into the pavement for dramatic emphasis.

With the prep time, bake time, and serving size, I attempted to summarize the hope and heartbreak that surrounds their dream. When the dream seems an actual possibility, the men resolve to act in one month’s time

It is also assumed that the act of telling a story can provide insight into past, present and future events (Espinoza, 1997). By going through this process, individuals can find the importance of certain events and assign roles to people who are a part of their story. This act can allow a client to find new meaning and understanding to their reality (Espinoza, 1997). Not only is a

pizza was beautifully cooked on a crispy crust that didn't sag in the middle when he picked it up. The most memorable dish was Vince’s gnocchi; a plate full of light-as-air, tiny pillows of fresh potato goodness, smothered in a mouthwatering, rich and creamy gorgonzola sauce. Vince had never tasted anything so divine. It was delicious. The men savored their well deserved, exquisite dinner and wine engaged in happy conversation about the day’s events. Stan was relieved to be away from the sadness which encompassed his home in California and Vince was grateful to have Stan’s companionship and moral support.

It's like this you see, Harold, my husband, came back from the working men's club a bit more inebriated than usual for a Friday night, due to it being his birthday. He had a sudden pang of hunger and decided to cook himself a few chips.

His disappointment came from his frequent social experiments. One particular experiment is if his routine would change, if given the same factors. Leave the apartment for a particular purpose, at the exact same time, for any reason. And close the door the same way. Like clockwork, Avery would catch him on his way out. She not only enjoyed the consistency of seeing him, she liked his effort to test the world. She prepared a small late lunch for him to take on his way out to his destination. On date night, he liked a heavy meal: corned beef and cabbage with white rice and orange soda. This way, he would order a lighter meal at the restaurant.