Larry's Monologue

When Stanley first got to Camp Green Lake he was timid, apprehensive, and hesitant, but now he’s dauntless, sympathetic, and worthy.

The rain had just stopped pouring, and we had all gathered in a park nearby, as a makeshift memorial for Johnny. It wasn’t really a funeral, we didn’t have the budget for that, and it wasn’t like his parents cared enough to give him a proper goodbye.

I wish Joey would fight for me...if he loves me, he will fight for me, right? No...Joey will never fight for me or make the marriage work. In his heart, he believes that our marriage is over when our baby died...he is the most stubborn man I had ever met. Instead of saying that we are too incompatible, and if our baby survives...why can't he and I just forget the damn past and make the marriage work? Why can't he and I try again for another baby? Why must he makes it so damn hard for the both of us? Why is he so damned stubborn? Why?! Damn...I will never understand and I don't want to...maybe I should just move on and find someone who truly value me and never give up on me like he did...

Its is 1914 and joey a farm horse sold the the army and thrust into the midst of world war one. Into the western front when he is dragged away from his owner Albert his heart aches will he find him. Albert said they will meet again

I was a productive woman, and I wanted people to see it in me. I wanted them to see it in the way I walked. I wanted them to see it in the way I talked. I wanted them to see it in the way I worked late every night to make my patients, and the world, a healthier, better place. Most importantly, though, my productivity was expressed in the way that I raised my boy. I wanted Eugene to be as perfect as I was, and I worked my hardest to keep all distractions from him. Still, he always managed to slide his face into the pages of his books every chance he got. I didn’t see the point in it. He had the top marks out of everyone in his class, so what was the point in reading books that didn’t improve his grades? I didn’t

It’s them sycamores I remember. An’ the river, runnin’ deep and green, tinkling jus’ like the way Aunt Clara’s house keys used to when she was out on the porch about to unlock the front door. I’d hide my mouse in my pocket whene’er I heard them jinglin’ keys, because Aunt Clara ne’er liked ’em rodents hangin’ around her house. I was a smart boy, I really was.

OK damn man. Ok I’m just going to give you general details. I already told as much as I’m going to tell you about Friday night. On Saturday we party on a boat with these fine ass women, however Luther didn’t go he was too hung over, so we left his ass at the

“Look Lennie, I want you to look around here. You can remember this place, can’t you? The ranch is about a quarter of a mile up that way. Just follow the river.” “If you just happen to get In trouble like you always done before, I want you to come right here an’ hide in the brush. Till I come for you can you remember that?” Then as George told Lennie before and he did what he was told Lennie came back to the river after he accidentally killed Curley’s wife and the pup. George didn't want Lennie to suffer so he did he job himself, he wanted Lennie to be happy when he went away so he told him to face the river and think about the farm they wanted to live on and then George killed Lennie so he didn't have to suffer. Mercy killing/ euthanasia

Grass tickles my bare feet, and the sultry night air caresses my skin as I stand facing the forest. With the moon full and glistening over the dew covered greenery, I am enraptured. The gentle breeze wraps around me like a lovers embrace and I am lost to my surroundings. The nights are beginning to cool with the new season and are a welcomed relief to the waning summer heat.

Running through branches and high standing grass, I sprint as fast as my body will move. Insure about how much energy my body has left, I keep pacing a constant speed to catch up to Lennie. As the forest begins to come to an end, there is a lengthy creek that comes to view. Hesitating, I plunge into the water trying to find my dear friend Lennie. Just as I think there is no hope on finding him I see a movement out of the corner of my eye. Thinking it was just an animal, I turn away not even realizing that the animal was Lennie. Lennie, terror- stricken and drizzling, is standing right in front of me. I try to dash toward him, but since my legs are in the water they don’t seem to move quickly. Not even bothered about how slowly my feet are moving I still leap toward him in excitement. Since we were hugging I didn’t even realize that the neighing and running footsteps of the men’s horse were drawing closer to us.

Well, like you said it's her money and she earned it. She actually is sitting down and taking time to learn what she needs to know as we can see when she's on her bed looking through documents. She knows her shit even if it's only a bit and you can she that with the way she interacts with that guy she's helping sell the apartment. She's takes HUGE ass risks but she's not stupid.

For those of you that don’t know who I am, I am George Milton. I wouldn’t consider Lennie a friend, sorry, I mean he was much more than that to me. Before Lennie’s aunt Clara past away, I had made a promise to her that I would look after him, and ever since then I’ve spent every day with that fool, and yet I don’t regret a single moment. I must admit that Lennie wasn’t a very bright guy, but he was a big guy, with an even bigger heart, Lennie could do the work of three men without breaking a sweat, nor complaining. He would do anything I said, because he had a lot of trust in me.

My friends and I walk into a packed venue, and are immediately met by a young guy with shaggy brown hair and a skull hoodie, who holds up a white piece of paper with a hastily scrawled "$8" in the center. I pull out my worn wallet from the left pocket of my leather jacket. My hands strain momentarily to pull the snaps open, before my fingers find their way to my single worn 10 dollar bill. The man hands me two dollars in change and stamps my hand with a blue paw print, and I turn to face the stage. All the while a man has been screaming and singing on stage, not unpleasantly. The vibe of this crowd feels different from the normal one, rougher. They have a more hardcore look to them, and I've never seen Alexia's band play with one that yells, other than one time at a small coffee shop in which a single kid with an acoustic guitar spent twenty minutes strumming and screaming slam poetry into the mic, while my friend and I sipped iced vanilla lattes in the other room.

I made absolutely sure to get to my volunteering early, though it did mean losing more sleep than I liked. Marcy seemed to be in a bit of a better mood, and she had looked genuinely impressed when she saw I hadn’t lost my nametag, which confirmed I really had made a terrible first impression. I had a lot to try to fix in my next few days, and I wasn’t sure if I was happy or upset about that.

I was walking up to bat. All I could hear was cheering through one ear and booing through the other. I took my stance and put the bat on my right shoulder and waited for the pitcher to throw the ball. The pitcher stared me down, probably trying to intimidate me some how. It worked. I could see the twitching of his right eye as he ogled me. He lifted his left leg and that was when I knew that the ball was going to soon be coming towards my face. As I braced myself, waiting for the ball to come, the boy opposite of me flung his right arm backwards, making both crowds go silent in anticipation. I could see the ball leave his hand and come towards me. I was trying to focus on the tiny, white ball, while zoning out the crowd cheering and yelling