Judai's First Date: A Narrative Fiction

Journeying through the mountainous desert towards this remote, yet beautiful park, I was shocked by the extent of the untamed land. I searched my mind, tempted to recall a time. I gazed upon an expanse of earth so untouched by human hands. Before me, the earth and sky unfolded, stretching for miles with little interruption. The closer we journeyed to the park, the more I began to feel isolated from the rest of the developed world. Overcome with feelings of excitement and curiosity, I felt

At the j.v victory game Morgan was no where to be found and when Remy got home he didn’t even call her. Remy started to have a break down and decided that she didn’t want to go to church anymore. None of the kids really wanted to go to church. They hated staying there so long and really hated the fact of staying there for so long. Remy ask her brother if he wanted to stop going to church he hated being on Morgan side even though he didn’t want to go to church either he still told her he wouldn’t break his mother heart and loved going to church. When Morgan got home his family yelled out eleven o’clock in any other house hold that means bed time but in Morgan’s house it means to watch the news. They all would sit around watching the news when a report that a 26 year old DENISE THOMPSON was hit broad side by a truck she was killed instantly. The police say there was suppose to be a stop sign. But on Denise way home from dropping her baby sister off came to the intersection with Warren Street, there was no stop sign. The car was crushed by a mason’s dump truck. The front door had been cut off to extricate the driver. Morgan was screaming on the inside but yet it was so loud it was like a truck was running through his brain. He thought to himself there’s supposed to be a stop sign on cherry road. Morgan heart burned. His heart seemed to catch fire he was hot and dry; he wanted to look at his skin but could not take his eyes off the screen. He thought to himself no body

“The shore was fledged with palm trees. These stood or leaned or reclined against the light and their green feathers were a hundred feet up in the air. The ground beneath them was a bank covered with coarse grass, torn everywhere by the upheavals of fallen trees, scattered with decaying coconuts and palm saplings. Behind this was the darkness of the forest proper and the open space of the scar.

She became accustomed to the perception of a desert being portrayed as dull and lifeless (Being raised in Kentucky) until this trip. Throughout this scene, she expresses her fascination for nature, and uses a tone of awe and allurement while describing the attributes about the land with metaphors. This narration occurred following the first rainfall, when Mattie and Taylor decided to go to the desert. This passage which is distinctive of Kingsolver’s portrayal of the natural landscape shows her sudden awareness diverse atmospheres. By linking to the scenery to “the palm of a human hand”, the author uses the literary device of personification with the mountains and the town. Her phrase “resting in its cradle of mountains” associates the basin to a child, and the phrases “city like a palm”and“life lines and heart lines hints a grown-up. The terrain exemplifies a life from the beginning to end. Taylor describes the land my linking each attribute with lots of metaphors, which then confirms that the tone is “wonder and allurement” because it demonstrates that she is emotionally connected to the

Deej Logan was just like any normal high school girl. She woke up on her first day of school and combed her hair, picked out the “perfect” outfit and headed out the door. What she didn’t know is that after that day nothing would be the same. Nothing that day seemed to be going right. At school drama was swarming all around her, not exactly what she hoped the first day would be like. By the time the last bell of the day rang she was more than happy to get out of that school. She drove home as quickly as she could but as soon as she got home she realized that she had forgotten to pick up her sisters. “Great.” She thought sarcastically as she sat back down in her car and drove off. Just then she pulled out her phone to message one of her friends about her awful day. That one decision changed everything. Before she had a chance to send the message Deej veered off into oncoming traffic and was killed on impact.

It was a cold morning from which I had awoke. The ground was compacted from all of the slaves who had ambled upon this path, and was wet with the morning dew. I took a brief moment to massage my sores and I set off again, determined to escape this merciless place.

The tickling sensation of heat bathing his face forced him to slowly open his eyes. The sun’s golden rays stunned him blurring his vision as he quickly turned away. As his eyes adjusted, he was surprised to find the absence of his father. His heart started to pound and all the confidence and security that he had built up melted in the space of a few seconds. He jumped up flinging his sleeping bag on to the ground and looked around taking note of his surroundings. To him, it felt as if the trees were suddenly sent out to attack him like stealthy assassins gaining on him as they moved side to side from the winds steady breeze. The faint noise of bugs and animals chattering sounded like the grunt of a predator before it hunts its prey. A colossal cloud

Ground quakes beneath his boots as he slams down into the ground, sand emitting outwards from the centre of his landing. The Sahara was an odd yet ironic choice for where Adam wanted to meet, thinking about his history. Adam's face portrays no emotion, a blank void stretched where his features should be.

The clearing was quiet, it seemed lifeless. The Salinas River still flowed merrily near the hillside. The water was still warm from the afternoon sun, and still reflected a green hue. On one side of the river, the smooth foothill slopes still curved up to the strong and rocky Gabilan Mountains, and the other side was still lined with trees. The willows and sycamore branches still swung gently in the wind, and the leaves still created a green light within the space. It was totally calm and peaceful… but something was wrong. The air seemed heavier, and the sun seemed dimmer. No animals stirred, and everything seemed to be aware of a deep sadness. Nothing moved save for a small group of men standing around an unmoving figure.

One hot friday afternoon Jamal and Jonathon got off the bus from a long day of school.Jonathon was staying the night at Jamal’s house.They walked down the street to Jamal’s house.But one thing about it is Jamal forgot to do the dishes this morning which it one of his chores he calls a job.They finally got to Jamal’s house after a long hot walk.But as soon as they walked threw the door all you could hear was Jamal’s mother yelling like somebody had died saying“you knew you had to do the dishes now go do them”!Jamal and Jonathon went into Jamal’s room and put there bookbagas down then went straight into the kitchen.As Jamal and Jonathon walked to the kitchen Jamal thougtht of a plan to get Jonathon to do his work for him because he really didnt want to wash dishes.

Motionless within the sandy embrace of the tall dune, Billy waited while the sweat ran like tiny streams down his dust-stained face, but he could hear nothing above the roar of the pounding surf. He lay on his back within the small depression, musket cradled upon his chest, eyes straining to pierce the thin forest that bordered the great dunes, searching for movement while his ears strained to catch any sound that would alert him to the presence of his hunters…but he saw and heard nothing of his pursuers, only now and again did he hear the sharp cries of hungry gulls above the din of the lake as they wheeled above.

“In all his travels the Bishop had seen no country like this. From the flat red sea of sand rose great rock mesas... The sandy soil of the plain had a light sprinkling of junipers, and was splotched with masses of blooming rabbit brush,-- that oliver-coloured plant that grows in high waves like a tossing sea, at this season covered with a thatch of bloom, yellow as gorse, or orange like marigolds.” 94 Both women describe the land of desert with such vividness that one is not left with the idea of a barren, sandy soil but an environment that is rich with history as well as life. This life and history of the land are a part of the culture.

The hot, arid air burned into my soul as millions of needles pricked my delicate skin. Beads of sweat coursed down my face as I turned towards the window facing the barren desert surrounding me. My family and I were on an ever sought vacation to the Grand Canyon, yet we had to drive from New York to Arizona and I radiated impatience throughout the journey. Walls of heat shrouded me as I gasped for air, yet my efforts were fruitless, swallowing nothing but fire. As my lungs collapsed, I looked out the window and into the heart of the looming sun, taunting me from afar. Suddenly, my eyes gave out and sweat and tears engulfed them till they took their true form. A forest blanketed with soft and gleaming snow, blemished by the phrase: “Only 10 more minutes.” However, I was awakened from my revery by a vehement cry as I gazed into the eyes of tattered vultures, of every discrepancy, with an unforgettably shrill voice. “Who dares enter our land!” they screeched dissonantly. Trembling, my eyes flashed over the sun and I was standing in a perpetual desert, with vulture's eyes glued to me. I froze with fear, though the sun baked my skin.

The howling of the wind brought my eyes to open. Where was I? Focusing in the dark of night, confusion washed over me as I came to realize I was in the desert. Distant landscapes of dry and worn rock surrounded me, and beneath my bare feet I felt the gritty sand caught between my toes. I was surrounded by those rocky hills and yet as I scanned the desolate desert it seemed never ending. The irony of the nighttime desert suddenly set into my body; that ghastly wind moving right through me and chilling my bones to that of splintering ice. The need to move started me forward though, and I felt a sharp ache all over, my body trying to fight against change. Was I lost? My heart began pounding fast in my chest, the blood pumping through my veins

I gazed up at the mountain now drenched in light red and squinted, trying to keep my eyes open, as the bright sharp light burnt into my eyes. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I finally closed them unable to the pain any longer; I wiped my watery eyes and thought where Samneric’s fire was? There was a rumble inside me, and I looked hopefully at the jungle wondering if I could find Samneric’s fire as well as something to eat. In the morning light the jungle seemed like an old and tattered rug chewed to bits by moths, yet despite this the jungle and the whole island was beautiful shining in the sun’s warmth. I kept on walking as the jungle beckoned me calling me with its beauty. As I passed between the trees, the canopy overhead plunged me into velvet darkness. The only source of light was from the small gaps in the shell of overlapping leaves, where the sun glistened through. Moss and lichen covered the ground in abundance, thriving in this humid atmosphere, and feeding on the eerie green light that managed to penetrate through the ceiling of emerald leaves. The strange green shade and the various knotted pillars made it impossible to see for great distances or to walk about freely.