Lorne's False

A splash of cold water hit Kelly’s face with a jolt. It felt good, reminded her that she was still alive. The bathroom tile felt cool to the touch, and she placed my wet palms on the counter for balance. A thin raised line etched down her finger, and she wondered how long the scar would last. It was ugly. A constant reminder of the past year. How could a single year of a person’s life leave such scars? But it wasn’t the surface wounds she was worried about; it was the deeper kind. The permanent kind.

. Entering through a set of double doors, he stood flabbergasted by its size and furnishings of a large bed, desk, several stuffed chairs and even a fireplace. Book shelves, lined one of its walls, entirely filled from floor to ceiling with books, but the balcony, drew his attention with its panoramic view of the city, however the bed beckoned him, and looking very inviting, quickly stripped himself of his armor and clothes to climb into it and when his head hit the goose down pillow, was fast asleep.

Memories of the night before became a vivid memory in the recesses of his dimly lit mind, underneath the sunlight's intruding yet blissful gaze and the sensation of silk against his bare skin felt like a euphoria, a river of midnight encased his slender figure and with the scrunch of his refined nose and furrowed knit of his thin eyebrows, he rose from his slumber. Delicate fingertips leisurely danced across the silken sheets which lost its assuaging warmth only to discern that he was gone, Padding through the spacious house far too big for two alone to fill, and too much of a burden for one to find comfort in. To see his lover, clad in a suit that managed to take his breath away immediately

The boy lay there next to his father keeping each other warm from the chilling atmosphere where they set camp. The air was so moist it turned the dirt into damp mud and the boy could feel his sleeping bag submerge into it. The intimidating glare of an owl examining him sent a tingle up his spine. The sounds of bugs chiming filled the ambience, killing the silence giving him a sense of security. He looked up at the twilight sky illuminated by the blinding shimmer of the full moon gleaming through the forest trees over him. Surrounding it was an array of glimmering stars prompting the sky alive. As his body grew accustomed to the environment, each natural attribute gave him comfort and allowed him to slowly fall into a deep sleep.

He approached the door and looked inside. A single dim light illuminated a long passageway.

He proposes to walk around the yard and see how the place has changed and ends up looking outside and inside the house. As he walks in each room his face lights up at how things have changed but mostly stayed the same. The man is allowed to look everywhere but chooses not to go into the master bedroom. He is also denied the chance to see in the basement and is eventually forced to leave. At that point, he walked out the door, down the street,

When the door slid open, a much-needed breeze wound through the room, cooling them off. “Yes, sir.”

For days he stayed there, curled up by the wall. The sun would rise, somewhere, illumine the mouth of his pitiful den, grace the cold rock in front of him with a soft blue sheen, and set again, immersing his life in empty darkness. One day, two, three, he stopped counting, buried his mind in the chambers of his soul where a soft dim warmth still glowed. Waves of grief passed through, turned him over in riptides of hungriest despair, roaring death pounded nightly at his door, and then, hearing no answer, tore away again, letting warm comfort envelop him and soothe his damaged

When we went inside the spiral white wood staircase had fool’s gold railing. In the kitchen there was a table with 4 twine wrapped legs, and a wood stove with a chimney. In the living room there was 3 small chair couches and another chimney but this time with a fireplace. When we went upstairs there were 2 bedrooms, another living room with 4 couches this time and another fireplace. In my bedroom there was a big dresser with plenty of space, and there was a window, with a window screen, and glass! The bed was big and luxurious. And John’s bed was smaller but luxurious. His room was pretty much like mine, except mine had a fireplace with a chimney.

In “The Playground,” Tom Chang grabs the audience’s attention in the first sentence by stating, “I was scared when I walked onto the playground that Monday morning” (p. 2). By making this statement the opening of the story, Chang immediately makes one curious as to why he is scared to go somewhere as innocent as a playground. The way in which Chang states something so straightforward and vague makes the readers wonder what made Chang so fearful, thus making them want to continue with the story.

“Uh Cromwell needs his bath.” he blurted it was the first excuse that popped into his head. “No you are not,” she yelled,” You are going upstairs to get ready!”

In the far north the sun shines all day during the summer in Line one of the poem the mention of the midnight

After dinner, the Sun began to set, and Mary and James decided to go to a less crowded area of the park where the fireworks would be still visible. As the darkness of night began to cover the sky like a blanket, Mary and James had found a perfect place to sit. The bench was brand new, the red wood had a fresh layer of lacquer, and the black metal legs and arm rests had not one scratch. Trees and beautiful flower bushes surrounded the bench. A streetlight towered over the bench ever so

The further he got the darker and more moist the the hallway got. As he reached a door in the hallway he could

The article starts off by recalling the event that made the story of Richard Norris possible, it turns to the start of everything the night he shot himself leaving his face twisted with mangled flesh beyond recognition. Although, it was a miracle for the man to even be alive, the appearance of his own face was just too much for Richard to handle. Eventually, Richard and his family found Eduard Rodriquez a Baltimore reconstructive facial surgeon who performed the most extensive transplant any surgeon had ever attempted, giving Richard a whole new face. After the procedure was completed the account began to be retold and featured in the media. Richard Norris became a miracle with a massive following, he became a superstar overnight. Laskas decided to reach out to Richard and discuss the situation first hand, to see his exact thoughts on living in another man’s face.