Inky Alternate Ending

     Most of the big shore places were closed now and there were hardly any lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat across the sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes- a fresh, green breast of the new

Billie Holiday was an iconic singer in the jazz scene. She was a woman who lived her life the way she wanted to, and did not take anyone’s opinion on how to live it. She made a lot of money from her work, and she spent it all in the ways that pleased her. She was a free soul, one that had been badly hurt at the beginning of her life. The hurt she experienced makes many appearances in her music, and inspires some of her greatest music.

It was just a normal day for him. Poseidon went to school, hid from the bullies during lunch time, and, after school, prepared for his walk home. The way by the sea was his path home every single day. But the bullies were there waiting for him, for his blood on their fists. Like a hungry pack of dogs seeing their favorite juicy prey, they were ready to pounce. Every single day, the same, but for some reason, the sea drew him close. He wouldn’t, and couldn’t part from it.

Grey, the sea stretched for acres. Beneath the oceans topography, shoals of fish swam through and around the ship wrecks in a frenzied motion. Here, all stood still. Only slightly did my rowing boat rock, creaking in the tide. We rolled to and fro slightly; the seaweed twisted and writhed beneath the hull. Like a snake, it squirmed away, coming to rest only after we had passed. The oars made long, slow and deliberate wakes through the lagoon. I stopped sculling; the boat glided silently towards the stony, promontory beach. We had landed.

“Go on. Spit it out, kid, I don’t have all day. I have eggs to hatch.” She giggled. “And possibly, if you don’t answer my question quickly, people to eat.”

appear that a lobster had returned in his place. His eyes were squinted so much they

“I really don’t know what to do Cecilia. If only we could move it all somewhere or make into something else. Wait, I have an idea!” Arista exclaimed. She closed her eyes and focused on the bottle. She then, flicked her wrists inwards, then all of the sudden, the bottle started glowing. When the light darkened, a soft, pink jellyfish emerged.

The sun came up; another day has begun. The deepest shades of night were replaced with bright magnificent colours, the reef became a busy neighbourhood. the turtles swam out of nest, the woken hatchlings laughed with joy. The fish scuttled out of the anemone womb meanwhile

Modernism is the term of deviating from the norm. In the early 1900s, modernism influenced women’s role in society by providing more opportunities, jobs, and role models for girls today, in society.

We stayed near the water. Fishermen had trod this shore so much that there was a clear path. Only the occasional fallen tree blocked the way. The bark was worn off of the top of the larger fallen trunks where fishermen must have scooted across the

Mr. Ping-Pong sunk deep into his overstuffed chair and began drumming his spindly fingers on the arm. “Name it.”

The air, heavy with the morning fog, parts around the three figures like still water around a hull. Crunching rocks and barnacles under boots disrupt the thick silence of the morning, the sharp sound abrasive against the calm lapping of the waves. The woman crouches down pointing at limpet tucked into a crevice between two barnacle blanketed rocks, wet with morning dew but the children are already enraptured with a different creature. Peacefully undulating in a tide pool, the sea anemone’s bright colors and patterns are striking against the muted background of rocks, seaweed, and fog. The two children couch down on either side of the pool and giggle, giddy with the excitement of discovery. The girl reaches a finger out, undeterred by the

“Come on!” Indrid begged. “Just for a little while. Apollo will stay here with Rayne. Come with me to the ropes. It’s fun! The water

He decided he needed something more thrilling than a simple test dive. Tailed by the children, he eyed the dangerous rocky areas, further away from calmer waters. As he prepared to swim again, the

A good hour and a half passed without my catching anything, but I kept at it. Even though I had not experienced the exhilaration of hooking a fish, i was certainly enjoying this change from my normal life routine. I continued casting and reeling in my lure as I stared at the ripples created by its erratic movements in the water, and listened to the powerful waves crashing against the shore. This repetitive and care free activity offered me an opportunity to reflect, and it helped me to clear my mind. My reflection was suddenly cut short, as I felt a strong tap on my line, signifying a fish had hit my lure. I gave a quick flick of my wrist, setting the hook. I began to work the fish towards me. The bass was relentless and was not going to be caught without giving up a fight. My mind was so focused on getting this fish to shore that i forgot everything that was going through my head. The full fight, which must have taken about 10 minutes, seemed to last a minute to me. I landed the fish, held it by its lip, and removed the lure from its mouth. I looked at this creature of the sea, that I had just fought to bring to shore. It lay curiously still as I studied it, with only its rapidly fluttering gills showing any signs of life, as they gasped for air. Its camouflage was now on full display for me. The brown greens spotted back, a perfect blend of the sea floor, and the silver scales on its underbelly flashing crimson in the dying rays of the sun. After a short