Heaven And Hell - Original Writing

A beam of early morning sunlight played on his face. He turned and scooted to another part of the bed in order to avoid waking. Within a few minutes the beam of sunlight had caught up with him again and was shining again directly on his eyelids. He lay there, his head in a fog, rubbed his eyes and stared at the white plastered walls trying to determine where he was and even who he was. The brightness of the room overwhelmed him with a fierce intensity. It was a few minutes before his eyes became accustomed to the light. He entertained his semi-waking mind by tracing patterns of the earthy colors on the tapestry that hung on the wall facing him. He rubbed his hands slowly on the bedsheet, felt a smoothness and said to himself, "This

Love, generations, cultures, and family are the main theme to talk about in shorts stories, and in the story of “Hell-Heaven” by Jhumpa Lahiri, that is not the exception. However, it is an unusual and very enjoyable story where readers can identify themselves with it because the main characters are common people who have the same problems as many of us. If I have to summarize the story in one sentence, I can say that it describes the experiences of people who come from other cultures to the USA, and it is nuanced with an impossible love to make it more interesting and real. Also, the author divided the different parts of it with four important events which mark the transition

I remember falling asleep, but I don’t remember being in a bed. I had fallen asleep in the hall due to my emotional state. My body didn’t need the sleep. My mind did. I’m actually happy I did. It got my mind off all my problems and sorrows for a good while. I sit up, pushing the unfamiliar blankets off my body. I’m in a strange hard bed in a foreign room. Everything around me feels new and alien. This isn’t my dull little prison. This room is slightly decorated with light brown walls and a dresser covered with random things.

Slowly, I awoke to see looming trees all around me, bending over me, watching. Listening. They heard the screams, they heard my screams, I was still screaming. I clamped a trembling hand down over my mouth to only realize it was closed, my lips rolled in. And then thick as velvet. The blood pooled.

You sit reclined in the cockroach infested darkness on a bed that is not yours, but you find that actually, it is far comfier than the one that you try to sleep on back home. In your own bed, the rusty springs that dig deep into your ribs serve as a welcome reminder of cold reality as your mind swims in the black waters of blissful agony. Here women scream, children scream but best of all the men scream in a high-pitched symphony of beautifully poised terror.

The shrill buzzing of the alarm clock startled Adrian and he fell from bed landing on the ground. As he lay on the cold, hard floor, the warm glow of the sun gave him a sense of relief after experiencing a devilish nightmare. It seemed no matter how many times he dreamt it; it still terrified him.

In this book “A Paradise Built in Hell: the extraordinary communities that arise in disaster,” by Rebecca Solnit. Solnit discusses the human nature of individuals amongst disasters. Solnit writes in her first chapter “A millennial good fellowship: The San Francisco Earthquake” captures different accounts of individuals from the 1906 earthquake. There are five sections in this chapter that Solnit will discuss the traits of people in catastrophes. “The Mizpah Café” Solnit describes the kind acts of a citizen Mrs. Anna Amelia Holshouer fed the people and gave them a place to come and gave them a place to come and relax and about they just lost everything “Disaster requires an ability to embrace contradiction in both the minds of those trying

I batted my eyelashes lined with sleep. For a moment, I was disoriented to where I was. I felt around the soft bed, waving around my arms frantically. The area next to we was cold; Ross was gone. I pushed my senses to get up, tempting myself with visions

One day, I was walking home after a hard day studying for the math exam. The sun had gone to sleep and the moon took his place as the darkness surrounded me. The night, it surrounded everything, ate anything stay in its way, it would never hold back and demolish everything. It was frosty as I was locked in a fridge. The street was quiet and derelict, the way that the glow the streetlight glow was eerie,

Paradise Lost by John Milton thrives off the implicit and explicit aspects of Hell offered by the narrator and the physical and psychological descriptions offered by various characters. Their separate perspectives coincide to expose the intentions of Milton and the purpose Hell serves in this epic poem. Each character adds a new element to the physical and psychological development of this alternative world. The narrator and Satan provide the greatest insight into the dynamics of this underworld by attempting to redress the issues of accommodation.

Hell, although we will most likely never actually know anything about it for sure, has always seemed to be brought up in the media, talked about on television, and depicted in different ways and through all of the different types of media there are around the world. For example, one version of Hell as described in Jean-Paul Sartre’s play No Exit is that the setting of Hell is a mostly empty room in which three people are selected to stay for eternity (Sartre). Whether they were selected by chance or at random, nobody can tell for sure (Northern). The characters, Garcin, Inez, and Estelle try to figure out why they were all placed together, but will never know even though they have an eternity together to figure it out (Sartre). The thought that this setting could be a Hell in it’s own can be hard to comprehend. The fact of the matter is that the three people have no looking glass in which to see themselves, no way to know how the other people in the room feel about them, and no way to get away from each other, for they are locked in this room for eternity (Sartre). The fact that one of the women, Estelle, is a sort of conceited woman who wants to see how she looks all the time makes her feel the need to ask the other woman, Inez, how she looks (Sartre). When she does this, it shows the way that it is human nature that we are constantly worried and wondering how they look through another person’s eyes (Northern). The idea of the Northern Existential Group that “Hell is other

Now, I sit here in desolate despondency. My body in this room cradled in a rich velvet blanket of black by a midnight so sour, it had swallowed up the day, draining it's colors

I woke up carrying grocery bag under my eyes; feeling as if I was falling down an endless, dark hole of boredom. The sun clawed at my window like savage, hungry wolves thirsting for the last piece of meat. The heat rained down like a breath from hell and showed no mercy for anyone in its way. The sun’s rays rippled and rolled of people’s cars like waves on the shore of a beach. People were submerged in the thick and humid air, involuntarily. Others trekked by sweating like sinners in church. Animals who were seeking shelter innocently, sat fried like cold bacon on a hot skillet. No matter where you go, there will be no escape.

Before I knew it, it was late at night and almost my bedtime. I made my way, up the stairs to the loft, slowly dragging my feet up each huge log stair from being so tired. I finally made my way up to the loft although the only light source was coming from one-single lit candle downstairs on the kitchen table. As I pulled the covers off the tiny twin bed, it was extremely hot, so I decided

Where does a person who commits a heinous sin go? Where does a person who did legitimate things and prays all his life go? This is what distinguishes hell and heaven. Hell is to people, what school is to students, a place where souls of all morals, good or bad, were consigned after death. This is the place of punishment of Satan and the other fallen angels and of all mortals who die unrepentant of serious sin. On the contrary, heaven is to people, what I would be as president, a place where Gods, gods, or other spiritual beings dwell, and the place of perfect supernatural happiness for the redeemed in the afterlife. Many portray the happiness of heaven as the unrestricted partaking of the joys