Luna Jones: A Short Story

In the article Our Crazy College Crossroads, Frank Bruni, addresses the topic of rejection involving students who are applying to colleges by using pathos to connect to his readers on the topic. The author appeals to his readers by uprooting the idea of rejection and worth that are commonly felt by students who are rejected from their top school. He does this through the use of metaphor, rhetorical questions and aggressive statements. Bruni attacks many opposing views such as of Malcolm Gladwell by criticizing the science behind his an argument. Bruni also points out the difference between those who get in to Ivy League colleges and those who don’t. He does this by presenting the means that some individuals lack such as financial support,

It was on July 22, 1975, I can remember it as vividly as if it was yesterday. I was having lunch with my 2-year-old goddaughter, Tiare, and suddenly a fire broke out in our apartment. We tried to find a way out but the fire escape had already collapsed. I went to the balcony and found a crowd of people, pedestrians, firemen, policemen and even photographers. Everyone was hustling to help us but it was nearly impossible to reach us on the upper floor. Eventually a firefighter came to rescue us. As they were placing a ladder, the balcony suddenly fell. I grabbed the firefighter’s legs as he held onto the ladder. In a glimpse of an eye I found myself mid-air with nothing to do but pray that my daughter would be fine as she we were just inches apart. This is my story, I am Diana Bryant. I’ve heard plenty of conversations about the pictures that were taken of me in this

The author Julia Butterfly Hill book is a personal reference of the adversity she overcame when faced with saving a part of nature, a part of what defines her, a piece of something she would never let go of. In this novel the author gives biographical evidence of not only her love of saving the redwood trees. The story begins in December of 1996, in the town of Stafford, California. There was a mudslide which was catastrophic and buried seven homes. The removal of the redwood trees was what she states to be a cause and effect of this disaster because they absorb the moisture that causes erosion. She was up against the Maxxam

This isn’t the first letter, and definitely won’t be the last. The bank was trying to get me to move west to California, like half the other people in town are doing. I’ve told them multiple times that I’m not moving, yet they continue to try. They were also offering me money for my home, but I’d have no use for it with no home. When I looked up from the letter, I looked out the window. As I expected, there was a man in a fancy suit. “Get off my property,” I yelled, “your bank isn’t going to get it without killing me and my

It’s just another letter, it is going to be something like an affair, teenagers resenting their parents, or maybe second thoughts of getting married. It is nothing new, something I haven’t put in my column a million times before. As I open the letter, I notice it was not from a parent, mistress, husband, wife, an adult nevertheless. The

I failed the college application process. I applied to Williams as an Early Decision applicant last fall and was deferred for later evaluation. However, the actual deferral from Williams was not my failure. My reaction was the failure. For although I knew the distinct possibility of this outcome given the competitiveness of the applicant pool, I reacted to this disappointing news with a crushing questioning of my accomplishments and identity. I had worked so hard, both in academic work and within my school and camp communities, thus I wanted validation from an outside source such as Williams College. However as I look back on the experience, I learned that we must never depend on external sources for validation. We must depend on ourselves. When I opened my virtual letter from Dick Nesbitt and read the first line, I found myself in a state of humiliation and defeat that I spent the next three months battling within myself. Even as I attempt to answer this question, I find myself struggling to find the perfect words for my emotional

She saw a green envelope that looked very similar to one she had sent the night before. She opened it and read it. ¨She began to cry silently for the wickedness of the world when she read the words: LOOK OUT AT WHAT USED TO BE YOUR

Have you ever known someone who acts tough but is actually very nice? In the story thank you ma'am, I noticed that even if Ms. Jones seems tough on the outside, in the inside, she is very empathetic. This is because she can relate to the boy, she cares for the boy, and she acts tough.

“Can’t you do anything to fix her legs? Make her walk again?” Orion had asked the healer.

I n the story thank you mam there was a boy name roger and, a women name Mrs. Jones. Roger wanted a pair of suede shoes, and thought he had to steal to get them. One day Mrs. Jones was walking the street, and Roger came by and tried to run off with her purse. It all went down when Roger slipped and fell. Mrs. Jones walked over and stepped right in Roger chest while she took her purse. She asked why you tried to steal my purse he had no answer, so she jacked him up and off they went. Once Mrs. Jones and roger reached their destination her house, she gave roger a towel, because his face was dirty. Roger wasn’t worried about anything but was Mrs. Jones going to take him to

As his hands were trembling, the quill dropped on the table. He knew that there was nothing to be done. His signature stared at him. As if it was a good idea. He was old but still young minded; he knew what he was doing. However, he noticed that his time would end soon enough and that his lover needed him. Compensating for his actions, he held his wife's hand for her assurance, while the crackling of the fire enhanced his fluctuating decisions. With one look at her, he realised that it was necessary. Tears of blood, one by one, trickled down creating a seal for the envelope. The seal of the House of Van Garret.

Finished, the stalker peered deep into Lila Ross eyes, and wondered how the woman would she'd react when she became aware that man who'd just brought her to climax was a rapist and murderer. Soon, but not tonight, he'd discover that answer, and was glad when Lila made it clear that she wasn't looking for pillow-talk, or for him to remain any longer than necessary. Mark Dubuois had had just about enough of being friendly to Lila Ross to last him a lifetime.

“Chloe! Mail’s here!” My mom called. I hurried down the steps and quickly sorted through the mail. Nope, nope, nope, I thought, as each letter without the royal stamp brought dread upon me. I just needed this one letter to keep my family safe.

She had almost been afraid to touch it, afraid that it wasn't real. She momentarily convinced herself that it wasn't the letter that she was waiting for. But it couldn't have been anything else. She ran from the post office, glad to be in the fresh air and very glad that she could stop going there. Her house was nearly a mile from the post office, sitting on the outside of town and she ran the whole way. Eleanor had been on the track team in school, a sprinter, and her legs ached a little as she slowed before her house. Standing on the porch she ripped the letter open with trembling fingers, her eyes scanning the typed

Arthur thought that plan was ludicrous. He had plenty of money and could dip into his trust and pay Gwen’s tuition AND her and Tom’s living expenses for the next decade without it making a dent in the funds.