Ivan's Ecstasy: A Short Story

It is not until Ivan falls ill and is close to death, does he realize he lived “a most simple and most ordinary and therefore most terrible life”, meaning that he wasted his life by living by propriety; it is also through Ivan’s sickness and suffering that he’s able to find redemption as well as the true meaning of life.

“Well, are you going to just sit there?” he said, raising a greasy eyebrow. “Or are you going to clean it up?”

Finally getting to venture through the city of the forbidden. Darkness-no light...whispers- no fright. These broken unfriendly trials were swinging with snakes. Brittle and decaying, these trials did appear. With fear and curiosity, I did walk the swinging trails with snakes. Knowing this would lead me to dead land. The land of the unforgiven...the mistreated dead land I would find. No signs, no help, nothing at all to hold me back. No one except for myself. Feeling the need to turn around, while also feeling the need to keep going. While having second thoughts, I still managed to keep going.

I heard the click of the lock and my mom pushed the door open. We were greeted with an excited Coco. Her tail would wag furiously from left to right, making a thumping noise against the furniture and shakes her entire body in the process. My shoulders relax, and I did not realize how good it feels to be home. My brother pushes past me. The stench coming from his dirty and ripped up football jersey made my nose wrinkle. He rushes ahead to take a shower before dinner. That’s when a familiar smell hits me. A growling noise came from deep inside my stomach, wanting to be fed after a long tiring Thursday at school.

When Nikita Khrushchev seized control over the Soviet Union he kicked off what is known as the “Thaw” began. This period in time when citizens were forced into labor camps where millions of people were sent for crimes against the country that included practicing certain religions, having communications with foreign persons, and talking out contrary to the government. One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich was a controversial short novel published in 1962 that was fiction, but based in reality about the “gulag” (Solzhenitsyn PG#) prison system that Joseph Stalin, the dictator who ruled the Soviet Union from 1924 until his death in 1952. During Stalin's rule of fear, millions were arrested and shipped off to gulags. One Day in the Life of Ivan

After becoming ill, caused by a fall hitting his side on the window frame, he is now depressed, irritable, fearful and quarrelsome. His physical strength declines rapidly. One night while lying in the dark, he was visited by his first condition of being subject to die, in which he continuously tried to block out of his mind but it haunted him profusely. As the people around him pretends that he is only sick, Ivan now feels that he is surrounded by hypocrites,

In “One Day In The Life Of Ivan Denisovich”, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn presents to us the central leading character named Ivan Deniosovich Shukhov. Shukhov was an inmate at labor Camp HQ somewhere in Russia. He was in the “special camp” for being accused of treason or being involved in political crimes. He was an ordinary individual, who was quite simple, and avoided being bitter. He was disciplined, and not only by the system, but by his own values.

Anastasia Lynn was a sophomore at Cottey College in Nevada, Missouri. The school sat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by nothing. No matter which direction you looked there was just trees and old dusty brick campus buildings. A trip to the inner city required two hours traveling time to and from. The only place near the all-girls college was Crowder college. They weren’t much better. The drive home to Indianapolis was worse. The trip was just short enough to make in one day with no overnight stops and just long enough to get tired of looking at the unchanging scenery of randomly placed houses and watching grass dry. Because of this Anastasia very seldom went home, but this year was different. Fall break had aligned with her twenty first

Our views on women’s sexual pleasure especially female orgasm was a topic of misinformation for males to hold all the power in everything even in sexual intercourse so males can further establish their dominance and women to continue be subordinate. Then in 1968 Anne Koedt published “The Myth of the Vaginal Orgasm” where she challenged the foundation of these thoughts and how the world thinks of the female orgasm. Yet the mass media and social norms today still depict males as the dominant person in a relationship and female are subordinate to them.

Yesterday had been an awkward moment for Jane. How can one simple pill change a person behavior? She couldn't accept the truth that the pills can be magical, it's practically not possible science. "I think those two are pulling some kind of a weird joke on me. I don't find it very amusing." She laugh to herself. "Magical lust pill. Ha..they're not fooling me, I'm falling for their childish games."

Over the weekend I went to a friends house that I haven't seen in a long time. We went swimming in a river, rode ponies and horses. When we went to the river it is freezing so I only put my feet in the water but my friend on the other hand jumped right in and she was splashing me, so I took some sand and dirt and through it at her. After swimming, we rode horses and ponies. I rode one of her ponies named Cinnamon, I jumped her, barrel raced with her, and practiced multiple events with her. Then after the pony I rode my friends sisters horse named Scarlet. I did the same things with Scarlet as I did with Cinnamon but I worked harder with Scarlet then I did with cinnamon, I worked harder with Scarlet because Scarlet is a bigger horse and you

I awake from the horrible nightmare that had been haunting me for the past year. I can not get over the idea of more than half our colony being gone. I know Leiningen is still alive, I wouldn't be having nightmares if he was not. I will have my time to get revenge not for myself, but for my fellow ants. Leiningen has it coming, so he better watch out. I am Cota Covu the last of the 7 sections leaders, one of the lucky of the many unlucky ant that

I laid awake that night thinking, while the moon lit night light bleed through my shades and onto the wall. But this story should be told… from the beginning. Trudging down the stairs, I could smell the aroma of cinnamon and maple syrup growing closer. That’s how I knew it would be a good day. But a scientist doesn’t always have the right hypothesis. Then I scarfed down my breakfast like a sword fight, quick, noisy, and satisfying. After the delicious breakfast, I grabbed my bookbag and bolted out the door to catch the bus. When I took my first step out the door, I felt the cold crisp autumn air brush up against my face.

Blink, blink, a quick glimpse of the area relays the relevant message to the brain and in a quick second the processing of the information is complete and my legs respond to the relayed message and they start moving in the direction of the empty seat. The dull ill-defined seat implies that the journey is going to be uncomfortable and instinctively my body adapts itself to counter the discomfort. The squealing of the raw metal wheels on the tracks and sudden jolt indicates the start of the journey and the man next to me, simultaneously, slumps into his seat pulls his hat over his eyes and doses off.

That night, Anne couldn’t sleep. Her mind was clogged with too many thoughts. The door seemed odd. It had radiated a sort of power that Anne had never felt before. She kept tossing and turning in bed, unable to calm down enough to sleep. Anne sat up in bed, and turned her head. Her eyes rested on her lamp, which had been there since they had moved in. This time, however, it seemed different. She held her hand up to touch it, just like she had with the door. A certain power seemed to intensify, although it might have just been the heat. For a split second, Anne thought she saw a bear etched in the silver base, but when she blinked, it was gone. The girl lay back to rest, her thoughts more tangled than ever.