Friday Night Monologue

It changes everytime you ask. Some say it was a virus, others say it was god punishing us for our sins. At least that’s what the people on the news say. All I know is that the dead are walking among us. I’ve seen people I used to know attack and eat innocent people. Everyday I see my dad walking among them, wishing there something i could have done. I couldn’t bring myself to kill one of the only people i’ve loved. He attacked me but i managed to fight him off and i’ve been held up in my house ever since. It’s a small house, nothing fancy, in a small town near Chicago called Glenview. Everyday I think about my half brother that lived in New York with his mom. After my dad and his mom split I didn’t think life could get any worse, I was

The furious winter swindles our space by wearing its spurious faces and sending the echoes of a promising message over the sea. Today they will get the satisfaction they need and tomorrow your doubts shall outstrip the benefits of a prime litany. As for them who distance themselves from failing company expansive time exists although the alimentary rudiments will trigger their senses with false alarm.

I stare at myself in the mirror. What do I see? I see a socially awkward teenager, I see someone who is oblivious to the immensity of real life, I see a dancing phenom. I like to compare myself to John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever, and it's not my groovy hairdo and careless attitude that builds this parallel, it's the fact that we’re both kings of the dance floor. Unlike John, I'm no connoisseur in the art of 70’s disco, instead, I’ve mastered the Latin dances of quinceañeras.

Our wind has died down, but yes indeed, is it cold! Our landscapers just pulled up to take care of leaves and shrubs. They are all bundled up! Oh, our leaves did finally fall with a little help from that dang wind, but the grass, she's still green! I can imagine they have more than enough snow in MN for Miss Cora's first snowman! Not ready for that here...well, I never am!

Although my main focus of my mockumentary was Trump’s issue with Mexicans, I’d like to expand the focus onto Trump’s racism, xenophobia and general thoughts, policies and views that have offended many different individuals and groups of people. I believe that these things he has said he would do should nullify his eligibility to run for president.

Ryan was never much of a talker. All throughout school his teachers were amazed by his good grades. Ryan loved learning, as he was growing up he learned as much as possible. He even went out of his way to learn as many languages as possible. He never let anyone on to how much he knew. He would rather observe than be the one observed. He would always sit at the back of the class and just watch the others during lessons.

The rain had just stopped pouring, and we had all gathered in a park nearby, as a makeshift memorial for Johnny. It wasn’t really a funeral, we didn’t have the budget for that, and it wasn’t like his parents cared enough to give him a proper goodbye.

Dinners serve as places for interactions in which daily matters are discussed. If given such an amazing opportunity to invite anyone of my choosing to dine with me, I would invite my mom, my grandfather, Morrie Schwartz, and Malala Yousufzai.

What has just happened? I have been injured and the rain is rushing down very strong on Andy and I now. Is Andy alright? Why were we attacked? What are we going to do in this dark alley where nobody can spot us? I just wish I could cry out for Andy since he can't do it himself. Lying here getting chilly and more soaked by the minute I wonder if anyone will ever waltz back here, then abruptly I notice a couple. I think, Andy I spot people that can assist us! The two stroll closer and closer to Andy and I. I’m sensing more anticipation each step until it all diminishes when they duck into a doorway not noticing that we are ten feet away. I could pick up on Andy’s pain getting worse now. Faintly through Andy’s groaning I could hear the two ranting about him, then all of the sudden

The pearl, in my opinion, was not evil, it was bait. It lured bystanders in as a test. It reminds be of the trails to get to heaven; it was made to entice the greedy and selfish so they may be punished. Those who can keep away the destructive thinking of power and riches get rewarded. It was a standard to leech out the sinners.

It's nights that turn into mornings, days that turn into months and phone calls that turn into quick snapchats.

My name is Anat, me and my husbend going to travel Tasmania for 10 days, starting tommorow. We were strongly recommended to stay with HIT hospitality to experiance the true culture of Australia. We hope you can host us for one or two nights. (That will be our first time in HIT accommodation so we are less familiar with how it works) We will arrive to Hobart tommorow (20/10/16) afternoon by flight and we have a car.

I've talked with the guys and we would love to spend Saturday Night with you. Also, what are you two interested in doing, we are down for pretty much everything including cumming on both of your faces as it is a huge fetish for us. We haven't figured out an exact time yet, but if you're still willing id email you sometime tomorrow about it. Do you have any pictures you could send us in the meantime?

I personally thought the love between Jimmy and the girl at home was confusing because I didn’t really see why it fit into the novel. Yes he did carry the letters around showing they talked and he talked about he loved her but she wasn’t going to marry because she was becoming a nurse but he still kept it in the novel and I don’t see why. If things didn’t work out for the two why would he keep it in the novel I mean yes it`s post to be about the war and war is not pretty and happy endings don`t come true. But it still doesn’t tell us why he left it in the book it left me confused why he did that. Also what left me confused when he was talking about him sitting in fox holes or just waiting I mean yes I see why he did it but just talking about

“Academy for the Adolescence, founded in 1774.” I read out loud to my parents. My family and I are standing in rounded cement pathway around a statue with what I assume is the headmistress. I gaze up at the statue, I look at all of her face facial and take in the sense of what it would be like to actually be her presence. After awhile of me standing there in awe, daydreaming, my parent 's guide me into the big brick house. There is a deck, wood, very old, it creaks when I walk on it. There are two giant door, side by side, that are propped open by two women who are greeting each family by name. It’s our family turn to walk through the door. “Welcome back Mrs. Emerson!”, the two ladies say in sync with one another. We walk onto newly