Greek Short Story Of Ajax

“Do you think he is ready to handle a knife?” my mom whispered. My dad said I was and he picked out a tiny almost pale pumpkin.

I covered my mouth to keep it shut and not say anything. He was wearing black boots and black pants. I could see him running towards the open window in a hurry. Maybe he thought i jumped out or something. He began to run towards the stairs. “He’s leaving” i whispered… But there was no answer, I realized that the call was cut. The man was stepping down the stairs… when all of a sudden there was a loud ringtone coming from my hand. There was then a panic in my heart. The man rushed back into my room and entered, There was a moment of silence when all i could see was the man’s black boots staring straight at my eyes. When suddenly there was a powerful pull dragging me out of the bed. Closing my eyes all i could feel is was extrucenary pain all over my body, every second. I reached out for anything near by so I could at least fight. I felt something from the tip of my fingers. I got a grip of something and swung as hard as I could, I hit him hard. The man fell back. I opened my eyes and there he was, Lying on the ground. Weak and hurt i got up and slowly started walking out of my room and down the stairs. My whole body hurt it was hard to move. I heard the man start to get up, I was terrified. I decided to walk to the basement door to try and hide. I remembered the small door that was in the basement. And went gently to open the door. Weak and in pain I was able to get down the old sketchy stairs and move some boxes to open the door. I opened the door. On the other side was a little room. It was dark and had a little bit of light coming from the outside. Maybe the moon light from the outside. I sat on the small corner of the room.I wrapped my arms around my body to try and stay warm. It was quiet for a second. Until I heard the basement door slam open. The man's foot steps were loud and you could tell he wasn't very happy. I could easily read exactly where he was. He was looking for me,

I fought the thoughts of not being able to breathe and allowing myself to have a panic attack. I have never been very religious, but it got to a point where counting didn’t help and the moment that destroyed my health replayed over and over. It was the few seconds prior to blacking out, to when I looked up at my rearview mirror and saw a truck coming right for me because he fell asleep. These thirty minutes of darkness symbolized the endless emotional and physical pain I had endured and my return to the darkness, which I cannot explain. So I prayed, hoping that even though I couldn’t remember all the verses, it would end the spinning and the torture. These moments of fear were more than claustrophobia; it was also a concoction of sadness. Sadness, that uncovered my weak and fragile human being self to the world because I had still not healed. As these thoughts deepened, the bed of the MRI machine began to move outward and I knew it was over. I hadn’t realized that my body was trembling until they took the thick white sheet off me. It revealed my shaking legs covered in Goosebumps and so, I pulled my fuzzy green socks up and with their help got off the bed. I wondered if that’s what it was like to live through a traumatic event or was it me being dramatic? Either way, I shut the door leaving the loud and terrible noises behind me. As I walked out, I could never see myself laying in that room again, unable to escape the endless

war, he fought side by side with the great Ajax and seldom left him. They are often referred to in the texts as the two Ajaxes.

It was the first Sunday of December morning when my father asked me to take some boxes to the basement, I had never been down there, as a kid I always thought it was scary, but know as a 19-year-old guy, how could I say no. I went downstairs with a couple of boxes, but could not find any place to put them. The area was a mess, so I decided that I would organize every box that was there. While I was organizing, I notice this one box hidden in the back, so, I decided to open it. Inside the box, there was a newspaper and a couple of burnt pictures. Therefore, I decided to read the article, I could not understand much, it was an 18 years old newspaper, but it talked about a burning house with two twin babies, It said that one had been saved with no harm while the other one was rescued later on with severe burn mark. It was a miracle that other baby had survived, they called him miracle Carlos, and his brother Richard. I stood there for a second before my brain processed

“I avoided her since then and thanks to the size of the castle, that wasn’t so hard. Just when I felt like I was getting over the mess, I saw her a few days ago. She’s with child.”

When I woke up, I had no idea where I was, until seconds later when I realized almost everything in the room was white. My hair was pulled out of my bun and I was wearing a patient's gown. There was a lady in baby blue shirt with little snoopy dogs on it leaning over the bed with a clipboard in her left hand, and a pen in her right. The instant I moved my head to look around, I regretted it and let my head flop back down, then regretted that even more. My whole right side of my body felt like it was being burned and stabbed right there on the spot. I moaned and I heard my mom's voice, just a little too

Exekias was a Greek black figure potter and painter that dates back to the mid-6th century B.C. He currently has 13 vases signed and attributed to him. His pieces are known for their ability to instill feelings of psychological tension within the viewer. Today, we will be briefly evaluating two of his major remaining pieces that were of particular interest to me.

For a play titled Ajax, the exposition serves as a curious contrast to the rest of the story. By introducing the tragedy in media res with Athena and Odysseus, Sophocles skips past the fuss of the armor debacle and instead delves straight into the aftermath of the event. Athena, who knows of Ajax’s deadly intentions, chooses to redirect his violence towards the innocent livestock. Seeing that this act was Ajax’s definitive moment, not including it in the play raises the question, what role does Athena play in setting the course of the story? It is generally thought Athena is callous and cruel and that she is punishing Ajax for his attempt upon the chieftains, but there is hardly anything in the play to justify such assumptions. I will argue Athena’s spell over Ajax is an act of salvation rather than an act of punishment and through this intervention Ajax attains honor after death with his proper burial. This not only provides insight into Athena’s behavior but also brings the play to a full circle with the reintegration of Odysseus as an instrument of Athena’s intentions.

“I have the Thirteenth male baby. This curse is from a rape that happened centuries ago. My baby is the last to be taken in this curse. It's tied to this place,” she says feeling confused and emotionally overwhelmed.

“So how was it that you became Sasquatch?” I hoped my father would be true to his word and give me an answer and he was.

Someone just dunked me in the water! Holding my breath, I tried to open my eyes, but I still couldn’t move. I kept on getting dunked, and I felt something being poured on me. It smells like Palm Wine! That’s only used when...oh no. They’re going to mummify me! My heart started beating frantically, as I tried to think of a way to intervene. I felt my body being picked up again. They began walking. After a few minutes I heard a door shut. I was laid on a had table. Seconds later, I could hear the sharpening of knives. I prayed to the gods that Aaheru or Acheri would at least see me breathing. I felt something sharp slice my side. Instead of wincing in pain, I felt nothing. I had forgotten that my body was numb. Thank you, Renenet! I heard squishing sounds. They’re probably taking out my liver, stomach, lungs, and intestines now. A few minutes later I can hear the sound of splashing. They’re washing my organs. I’m surprised I’m even alive right now. My mind is beginning to go blank. While, the men are washing, they begin to chat casually. I can only listen as I slowly begin to drift into unconsciousness.

“I just don't want it ok! I think it’s cursed so you take it.” He stated. One day I was bored in school, so I spun the necklace around my neck. That's how my habit embarked.

Confused, shocked and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, gasping for air, trying desperately to stagger onto my knees. A sharp pain suddenly ran up my spine into my forehead and quickly I collapsed back onto the cold damp floor inside this mangled metal coffin in which I was trapped in. Bit by bit I moved my hand closer to my forehead, trying to impede this massive throbbing that was affecting my head. I skimmed my forehead and paused my hand on a huge gash. The pain shot into my head again, but I was able to clutch on to the seat and hold my balance. There was blood pouring down the side

It was a Tuesday after school when my mom decided I was old enough to inherit the small gold thing; I was still shorter than her, and at the cusp of youth at just 11 years old. It was heavy and large in my open hand- the longest width of it wider than my palm. She told me it was rose gold, and I nodded my head at the term I didn’t understand. Was it called that because of the little rose on it? I had wondered. She told me it had been given to her by my great-great-grandma in Montana when she was my age and that it was very special. I had to be careful with it because it’s old and someday I have to pass it on to my daughter. I had frowned at her, because really, who wants kids? Without noticing the little button-release clasp on the side I slid my hand