Maria's Monologue

I shit on it.” But the reality was that deep down she was lying to herself. Nevertheless, she missed all of that -- the smells of lamb pörkölt (stewed and flavored with paprika) and stuffed cabbage. And just to have one more taste of sweetened porridge and rice, or those butter-creamed flaky tortes that had once graced her lips, at weddings. She certainly had never learned to cook well enough to prepare those things, with her mother passing away before teaching Ava to cook. There hadn’t been time to learn what village women taught their daughters. Not when her mother had been wracked with pain and worry.

Maria Moreno: What a creep, to leave his family for his mistress I’ve heard those stories too many times.

She whipped her eyes towards him, but suddenly lurched and fell to the ground. The world slowed, she felt something warm and sticky pool around her. She had managed to turn her head in his direction, only then seeing the enemy army that had caught up with them. One knight savaged her son with his sword and then discarded his body. She tried to reach him, but a spear protruding from her back weighed her down. Then she saw us again, watched as the way the enemy avoided us . She felt cold, knowing her time had come , she looked right in my eyes as her life thread was cut. The end frayed as her body slumped to the ground, but it didn’t matter. She was one insignificant life that we had

This piece of evidence is a very important monologue in this story. Helena has convinced herself that if she betrayed Helena, she would get Demetrius’s love. This is sneaky in many different ways. Hermia told her the information because she thought that she could trust her friend but Helena went behind her back to find

Mayella stepped onto the stand, but Atticus didn’t. Instead a young Black lady stood in front of Mayella in her black suit.

I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I

Dear K., there’s a mosquito stain between the pages of your book, a streak of platelets beside my index finger. The broken microscopic cells have escaped the hurly-burly of the wide aorta, the stark unholy flow through veins and tubules. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mistake anatomy for emotion.

Angrily, I gathered my clothes and the rest of my belongings, then headed to the car. As I strode into the cove of trees, I suddenly heard a voice.

When she placed her food down, she grabbed my hand. “I seen 3 generations of your family and you are the only one who has come to help us.” I was shocked she knew my face even though I wore a mask and fake glasses as a disguise. She saw the awe and smiled at me. “You look just like your father.”

Deborah has no intentions of divorcing you. That’s it, Charles. That’s the reason why you seemed so dejected.

The scene is set. It’s the last quarter and the star player is lined up for the kick. This is it; the deciding factor win or lose, triumph or defeat. Tension thrums through the crowd, hearts pound in throats, hands are clenched in anticipation, fear, hope. Then the kick is made, eyes strain and throats gasp as the ball sails through the air straight between the goal posts. All around the stadium and at home in front of the T.V. people erupt into screams and cheers of exultation. Strangers clap each other’s back and congratulate each other while behind them others howl in misery. They try to console each other and sigh, knowing that despite the hardships they suffered with grit and determination they had failed this time. Still there is always next season….

In the passage, all the school children, sad that the clouds have engulfed the sun for another seven years, run back to shelter only to remember that they left Margot inside the closet the whole time. After seeing the sun for the for the first time they were old enough to remember the children might have regretted locking up Margot in the closet. Now that the kids will remember what the sun is they understood Margot. After playing and running in the hot glorious sun they know what they have been missing their whole life. Margot remembers the sun when she lived on earth when it shined more often. At one time she probably played with the sun shining on her back just like the kids on Venus did. Now the kids understood why she stayed quiet

It’s currently 1933 and I am a Jew who lives in Germany, allow me to introduce myself my name is Anna I’m 13 and it is not easy being who I am. The nazi regime has taken place, it’s a horrible time to be alive. Munich (wild camps) have already began and there’s been a boycott of our shops and businesses. Schools is already bad I don’t know why they are hurting us.

Tell me where you hide your heart. If it’s in the ocean I would dive into the Mariana Trench. If it’s in the sky I would tie a rope around the moon. I would dig my hands into the pit of my stomach, and search for my soul-that is where I think I left your soul. I'm sorry. I am lying to you. I can't do any of those things. I am just a man. But if love were a factor I would give you every one of mine. I would give you all of my loves. I would write you poems, I would wash your panties and put the babies to bed. Much later, much much later. There is much us time I want to chew up. I would thatch my fingers in your hair. I’ll by tampons and all your womanly products. But I won’t clean your hair from the sink. I just won’t do that. That’s nasty.

"Ah, right." His sudden inclusion in the proceedings caught him a bit off guard. He was one of those silly chaps that was a bit more used to being talked to than about. The washroom was...well it was most definitely unexpected. Alien even. Memories of the time before the catastrophe were...fuzzy at best. This...working water and plumbing?! A hand went to the back of his neck as he scratched at it, bit overcome by...something. Old things that he could only half recall. After a brief span of feelings he gave a shrug. Simply couldn't be helped. The dead were gone and buried. He stripped and set about to washing himself. Learning how to work things was...an experiment. Turning a knob one way to get a blast of frigid water was a very unpleasant surprise. So was twisting too far in the opposite to be doused with water hot enough for tea. Eventually he managed to find a relatively comfortable setting and washed himself in relatively quick order. There was far too many tales of unpleasant things happening to young men bathing alone for him to feel too comfortable taking longer than a handful of minutes.