Personal Narrative Essay About Fentress

I wrap my scarf around my neck and reach down to lace up my boots. Careful not to drop my cross body bag as it swings down, I stand up straight and walk out the door. As I lock the front door behind me, I inhale a deep breath. This is my favorite time of year. The air is brisk, yet the sun is warm on my skin. I begin my walk to work since my car officially died yesterday. This is the third time this month, but I don’t really mind. I love walking when the weather is like this. The sounds of leaves crunching beneath my feet sounds like music.

The pad of my thumb slides over my cheek, wiping away tears. I step closer, putting my hands on her hips, pulling her closer. “I don’t understand,” I admit. “Why are you so upset, Juliet? Why are you overreacting? I went to a bar, drank a little, and kissed a girl.”

Hannah looked at her dad with a smile of appreciation. “Well, alright.” Hannah said. Kim opened up the car and they got in. “All you have to do is give it your best effort, so if you

I did not meet with Pt. , I was paged by Lisa Micciulla, front desk in the emergency room to please come to the ED concerning an "urgent" situation regarding this Pt. When I arrived in the ED registration area an MGH Security personnel stopped me to talk with Pt's daughter, Charlene McDonald. Pt's daughter explained she was not being allowed to see her father, who she understands was brought to MGH for surgery after a fall. Explained to Ms. McDonald, I was aware of Pt having a gaurdian, and that there was a court ordered visitation schedule between Ms. McDonald and Pt. She reported this was an extreme situation and she showed me text messages she had sent to Pt's guardian, Attorney Tine Hajjar. I advised I could not allow Ms. McDonald access to Pt. Based on the order from probate court. Ms. McDonald has visits with Pt on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday 11:00 a.m. -4:00 p.m.

Good morning, like Megan said I am Desirae Hertling. I am currently in my last month of high school at New Ulm Public and I plan to attend South Dakota State University next fall.

She pulls from the embrace. Her eyes become glossy a tear slides down her rosy cheeks.

"Hey McKenna, could you come here for a second?" Tuesday, the demo team leader, asked. "Yeah, sure. What is it?" I replied. I could tell something was wrong by the worried look on her face that replaced her usually bright smile. "Steven rolled his ankle, so he won't be able to do the demonstration, which means that you will have to do a break." Oh no, I thought. It's the day of the Mother's Day show, which the demo team has been practicing for for weeks. I didn't have a break ready, let alone one showy enough for an actual demonstration. "So I was thinking you could do a blindfolded spinning wheel kick, does that sound good?" Tuesday questioned. I just stared blankly at her at first. The few times I have done a blindfolded kick, I have missed

Her tiny arms wrap around my neck, pulling me into a hug. I pick her up, her head resting in my shoulder. “I heard you screaming.

It was late, but that's when the woman preferred doing her workouts. Yoga seemed the perfect way to end a day -- stretching, relaxing, ...... . She walked onto the large mat and stood in front of the mirrored wall. She removed her black jacket and let it fall to the floor next to her. She felt slightly self-conscious in only a loose tank top and bun-hugger shorts, but she knew she'd be alone. She began by doing a few simple stretches before moving into her yoga positions. She began with the Downward Facing Dog. She closed her eyes, feeling the stretch along the back of her legs. From this position, she moved her feet farther apart and brought her hands to grasp her ankles as she moved into the Wide-Legged Forward Bend. She let her head hang,

Gasping, fresh air fills my lungs. Bitter cold, I open my eyes, a blinding white room occupies my vision. Again.

The clock is ticking. I have no time left to spare. The clock reads 3:00 am, and I have yet to sleep. My laptop is in front of me, a cup of coffee rests in one hand, and an anxious younger sister sits beside me as I continue to check and correct her homework.

Darting her eyes at him taking the mug and setting it down on the blue coffee table right in front of them. “Well let’s see, my best friend died last week, I lost my job a few days ago and everyone keeps watching me making sure I’m fine. I’m doing fantastic.” Hannah said throwing her arms up in the air and rolling her eyes, not amused with Jake at all.

I entered the world as a dreamer…not exactly I arrived into the world screaming so emphatically my face was flushed red but yes as time progressed my imagination spiraled, but first let's rewind. April 6, 2004 was a particularly humorous day for my mom, she waddled into the waiting room for her monthly checkup with the OB/GYN doctor very pregnant, the doctor concluded that she was five centimeters dilated and asked politely if she was having any contractions my mom strongly spoke, “No.”. The doctor was in between crossroads she didn’t want to send my mom home, fearing she could have the baby at home or in the car, but there was no explanation to monitor or keep her overnight. The doctor explained the risks of going home, and informed my mom

She sat at her computer with an anxious wonder at what she would write. As she typed she felt the familiar cold rhythm of the keys clicking. Tap. Tap. Tap. She became lost in her story and her tapping became more and more rhythmic, like the songs of her tribal ancestors. It was symphony of tapping. Her fingers melted into the keyboard and, and the hard plastic became a part of her. An instant sensation of peace washed over her and she began her story. She was no longer typing, but simply thinking, for she and her story were one.

Then the 134 arrived. I got on, showed my pass to the bus driver and