Monologue About A Wife

The horn has already sounded and I’m still running. I can feel my blood pulsing in my ears. The sounds of useless advice feels the air. I continue to run. I come across a cave and ran into it. I gasp in shock and as I walk into a lab filled with mindless people editing videos. A film crew rushes at me and says, “If you were able to be in Divergent, which character would you be?” I shake my head in confusion. I attempt to back up slowly, but they grab me and place me in front of a computer and yell, “Edit!” The slam the headphones on my head and everything becomes a blur.

“It only take one person to change your life.” It could be a spouse, a long lost family member, or maybe even a baby. Change is never a bad thing. You will always have to face change, whether it’s changing schools, having to adjust to a new sibling, or even having to adjust to a new job.

She deserved everything that came her way. All she did was taught me try to help me when i was intoxicated but I needed no help. The cat it was profound and that brute makes me furious. The cat always stayed by me and it made me hurt the beast now and then. That made my wife come over by it and comfort it but that made me want to kill them. She was very intrigued by her eye because it only had one and she was a very studious person while looking at the cat she seemed a little to in love with it. Also was her fault I drank so much. I could not comprehend with her and the tiny little brain full of irrelevant thoughts. I wanted to leave her but i could not do it . so i drank on end to keep my body sane.if she says one more wisecrack coming from her i'm going to freak out. The drinking problem has not got worse but they think i'm crazy for that statement but I don't know why i'm not crazy I did not do anything. My wife has tried to take away all of my drinks but she got the wrong end of the stick when that happen.

The central idea of the short story, “The Wife’s Story,” by Ursula Le Guin, is a wolf who finds out she is the wife of a werewolf. To support this the author states, “I saw him, I had to see him, my own dear love, turned into the hateful one” (LeGuin 7, lines 95-96). This quote shows the wife finding out about her husband's “curse,” which is the central idea. The character vs. character conflict of the family finding out about the husband and the character vs. self conflict of the husband changing into a human and or wolf helps develop the central idea because, without these conflicts there would be no story.

Throughout the years my siblings and I have been in many different performances, whether for dance, tumbling, or acting. Now, with all these performances there have been at least a few mishaps. One particular incident I remember quite well happened when I was playing the role of Jo March in the play Little Women.

Episode Summery: It's rather strange that Adnan doesn't remember what happened the day of the murder, but he claimed that it was just a regular day to him. Even if Adnan can't remember anything, Cathy, a friend of Jay, remembers everything that happened the day of the murder. She recalls strange behavier from both Adnan and Jay.

Washington eyed him and spoke in a quavering voice. “Then... help... me... get... this... scumbag.”

Suspended as you are in the capsule, a half-corpse, a modern lich desperately grasping at life through death, I know you cannot read this, and that you will never read it before the capsule becomes your coffin.

Nothing was heard, only the water droplets that drops from the crack ceiling. Making a small puddle on the ground, having mice roaming around the place.

I have something I need to tell you. It feels weird announcing this, because nothing has changed. I feel exactly as I’ve always felt, and I’m still the same person I’ve always been, I’ve just accepted a few things. It  almost feels pointless to say, because it seems so obvious to me, but I think I should tell you anyway. I don’t know how exactly to explain myself, because it’s how I’ve always felt, but I’ll try help you to understand without writing down every thought I’ve ever had.

Today Miss Orbach had to do two things, she has been putting off cleaning the kitchen and mopping the boys floor. I started off by having Susan put Lucas inside his playpen. She was not sure whether or not this was going to work. I told her that it is a possibility that he won't stay in there, because he is used to being able to get to her when he feels like it. I said that and it will also be a distraction to ask one of the other children to watch him, because Lucas is not their responsibility. She as to figure out a way to manage the situation on her own.

“Concentrate, Aiden!” He clapped his hands. “Please you really need to focus. This is important. Children have to be careful when they venture into the forest. There’s a pack of wild, voracious wolves with gaping mouths reeling with fangs and forked tongues each as thick as my wrist. They roam the woods, ten feet or more, and then hung in the trees, breathing raggedly tasting your scent, considering how best to devour you. As a matter of fact only, the other day several of them snatched a baby elf out of its sleeping mother’s arms and thrashed the poor little dear to pieces.

My drama paragraph: Your mother's "trying to help" days are coming to an end, and the time is coming to let it go. This is a final attempt to reach you saying everything conceivable down to the last atom of my energy. Being strong-minded (in your head) hasn't allowed your heart and spirit to listen and hear the pleas from your children, Grandpa, sister, and parents!!! If this last "try to help" as your "fairy godmother" doesn't work, your parents' twilight years will be peaceful, but with deep sorrow.

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On 1-27-17, Tiffany experienced nausea and vomiting. This morning we had a conversation on what could have caused it. I asked if she made right decisions in consuming a copious amount of snacks. She belligerently, and proudly replied that it was not the snacks that caused her to be ill. After several prompts and restating the question, she admitted that she went into my bedroom, right before she wanted to take a nap, and found the Ibuprofin, and swallowed approximately 6 tablets. Based upon the contents of the vomit, and without knowing how much fully digested, I would put the number between six and 12.