Joe And Jackie : O ' Revoir, Je T ' Aime

It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner, “Joe,” my father hollered up the stairs, “it’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds upset.” As I came downstairs to pick up the phone, I was not happy. I was tired and had looked forward to a nice quiet evening at home, not another stupid adventure with Jackie.

The fresh morning air was cool against my face. Father had been gone for a while now, he had been called by his work for some “serious business.” As my sister Aliah, and I played in the pond by our 2 story house, we heard a faint muttering of Father’s pick-up.

It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner. “John,” my father hollered up the stairs, “It’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds distressed.” As I came down the stairs to pick up the phone, I was not happy. I was tired and had looked forward to a nice quiet evening at home, not another stupid adventure with Jackie.

Investigative Writing The use of foreshadowing and tone in Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery effectively establishes the suspense and a sense of dread in the story. The writer holds back on the revelation of what is happening for so long yet there are subtle uses of foreshadowing to prepare the reader. When the characters assemble in the town square for “the lottery”, it creates suspense as a lottery is usually a positive event. The first example of foreshadowing is when the boys begin to stuff their pockets with stones, at that point in the story – there is no explanation for this yet by the end of the story, this event turns the ending into a realization rather than a surprise.

I was on phone with my dad, he was drunk and made promises I knew he would never uphold. Beep, beep, beep, the phone call ended. Tears rolled down my face, my breathing became shallow, it grew harder to fill my lungs. I was having an anxiety attack. “What’s going on?” Stewart asked, leaning toward me. I shook my head, avoiding the topic. “David,” my mom responded simply. Stewart’s typically stern persona softened immediately. He sighed, clasping his hands together, all his body weight shifted onto his elbows that were placed on his

It all began with a phone call one night after dinner. “Joe,” my father hollered up the stairs, “it’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds upset.”As long as I came downstairs to pick up the phone, I was not happy. I was tired and had looked forward to a nice quiet evening at home, not another stupid adventure with Jackie. Thirty minutes later, however, Jackie’s silver Mustang convertible swung into our driveway, and Jackie was leaning on the horn before the car came to a full stop. Grabbing my coat from the couch, I walked out my front door with all the enthusiasm of a man going to stand before a firing squad.

“It was good, I was just tired and ready to come home to my parents and two brothers.” said Lilly’s small

It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner. “Joe,” my dad hollered up the stairs, “it’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds scared.” As I treaded down stairs to pick up the phone, I was nervous. Jackie usually never calls me on the phone unless it’s something serious, and my dad telling me she sounded scared made it worse. Approximately 30 minutes passed at Jackie whips her silver Mustang convertible into our driveway, and Jackie was leaning on the horn before the car came to a complete stop. Grabbing my coat from the couch, I sprinted out my front door faster than i’ve ran in my whole life. I got immediately in her car and we drove away. I’ve never seen Jackie so scared in my life. She was driving at least 20 miles over

Jane is seventeen years old and senior in high school she loves her dad and always loved her weekends with him. She was really grateful to him for being around, she hears a lot about different situations from other kids not having the same luck. Jane already has her license but no car yet Paul has fixed up a nice 2008 Jeep for her. He doesn’t want to give it to her until she learns from him a little bit first. They are driving and conversing like usual, lots of laughs and jokes the topic of their

Seamus Heaney’s “A Call” explores the speaker’s building contemplation of their father’s mortality and the subsequent sense of adoration that the speaker experiences. Throughout their typical call home, the speaker’s thoughts increasingly grow out of context, especially in regards to their father’s mortality. After contemplating this mortality to a great extent, the speaker recognizes the eventual impact that their father’s impending death will have on them. An unexpected focus on their father’s mortality leads the speaker to experience intense love for their father during a seemingly casual phone call.

As soon as we got in the truck, Steve asked, ?You gonna do something about that.? ?What?? I played dumb. ?The hot chick who keeps checking you out,? he said. ?Ya, I plan to do something,? I answered with teen bravado not supported with a plan of any kind. Now, I had declared my intentions. Now, I needed a plan. My plan had to involve something big because the situation demanded it. This was a hot rich babe from DCC; I would have to borrow Dad?s car in the least.

I don’t always have the habit of eavesdropping on people’s conversations, least of all my parents. I didn’t find it necessary. However, on April 7, 2011, I found myself glued to the door of my parents’ bedroom. I had gone to inform my father that we (me, Michael, my younger brother, and Nanies, my young sister) were ready for the week long vacation to the sandy beaches of Key West, Florida. As I was about to knock on the door. I heard a heated argument inside.

Late night phone calls never end well, and this one was no exception. My mom answered the shrill ring of the landline early one Wednesday morning and was greeted by her sisters solemn voice. Aunt Mary told her that their mother wasn’t able to swallow food anymore; an obvious problem that had all the more meaning to her. Barely a month before, grandma’s sister, my Great Aunt Maureen, after a long period of declining health, quickly passed away after loosing her ability to swallow. It seemed that grandma would follow her sister’s example. Mom hung up the phone, the weight of the world settling around her shoulders, and booked a flight for the small Irish town she grew up in.

To this day, I can still remember standing at the end of my driveway watching my mother arrive home from the bus stop. This day was different; she was not coming home empty handed. In fact, she had stopped at a yard sale on the way home and bought a prize for me, a doll named Suzy. This memory, from the age of two, embraces the story of my mother and my entire childhood. In Indianapolis, Indiana in September 1980, I was born to a single mother. Throughout her life, she worked for the phone company in downtown Indianapolis. Even though she raised us through hardships and despair, she always took the time to love my brother and me outwardly. Until second grade, I have no recollection of my father visiting more than three occasions. At last, in fourth grade we began to spend weekends at his house and with his family. Sadly, when I was eleven we learned that my father had cancer. One week before Christmas, after a school music program, I read his obituary in the paper and told my mother he had passed away. From that moment, our family forever changed, specifically my relationship with my mother.

“I’m really not in the mood for this today Jackie.” as Joe entered the car.