Personal Narrative Essay On Homer's Odyssey

The monsters of Homer’s The Odyssey as written by Robert Fitzgerald all share traits in common, but there is always the small differences which make each close encounter more gripping than the last. When the not-so-glorious Odysseus, son of Laertes just manages to elude the cannibalistic clutches of the blinded Kyklops (IX) and takes to the high seas, he becomes arrogant and taunts his nemesis. He does not realize this, but the very words he uttered then sets the holy executioner upon the necks of his crew. Every island he passes or makes port at, his men become feasts for native monsters; however upon the beautiful island of Aiolia his men are not eaten, nor do they die at the hands of any mortal or immortal foe. What is so significant

Immediately, everyone started to turn to Chris. They all stared at him with shock and anger. Chris had never felt more embarrassed in his life. He quickly got out of his seat and ran to the bathroom. Chris thought about how he ruined his only chance to get Clayton Kershaw’s autograph. Even worse, he had hurt his favorite baseball star. This had to be the worst trip to the ballpark for Chris. He had no idea what to do, so he cried in the stall of the

A few years back I was sailing the open ocean with my leader, Odysseus, and the rest of the crew heading home when Odysseus informed us that we would be taking the long route home. As we grew closer to a strange island, the wind stopped and the water became quiet.

As the day I awoke, I've known that my father has died and how it happened was a tragedy. I had a vision last night that I was being taken to Agamemnon. I knew that this was true, it was that I saw it coming. "I will be Agamemnon's to be bride" I shouted in my head. I only thought of what has happened so far. I was panicking over the war. My mother queen Hecuba was worrying over us, I couldn't bare to watch my mother die, as I already saw of her fate. As we all were being taken to a man to tell us what will happen to us all. I heard the man say that my mother was going to be Odysseus slave. I heard her plead as much as she can to not be his slave, but nothing helped.

When Cindy was cleaning, she saw a sign that read, “Tonight, Coach Prince from the Women’s Hockey League is coming to the Nashville Gorillas to pick one player to join his team.” Cindy snuck out onto the ice with her equipment for the try-out. She won on all of the drills; however, it was almost midnight. She quickly packed up her belongings and ran outside without knowing she had left one skate behind at midnight.

Noah woke up to him and his team being dragged by something he looked up and saw something then blacked out.

TABBY JONES HELD HER BOYFRIEND’S hand for moral support as they made the long trek up the aisle to his teacher’s desk. If this talk didn’t go well, Chris would be benched Friday night—the one night the college scout would be watching the game. Chris didn’t have a lot of options, if he didn’t get recruited, he could kiss college goodbye. And with it any hope of getting out of their all-but-dead hometown.

On March 26, 2016, a friend, an acquaintance, and I drove to Norfolk, Virginia, for a photoshoot. The three of us all had writing internships with the Odyssey Online, and we needed photos for our weekly articles. As a Chesapeake native, I was already quite familiar with the City of Norfolk; however, this trip showed me a depth to the city that I had never noticed before.

Thursday night flew in like a falcon, but I was an eagle. After warming up, I led the girls to the center of the field in order to practice the material for the game and the pep rally; nonetheless, I swiftly discovered that the girls were struggling with the instructions left by the captain, and as much as tried to facilitate

Both teams desperately needed those few points to claim victory. “We’re only looking at one more home run to advance to the playoffs,” said my dad excitedly. The stadium became unusually quiet when our batter stepped up to the plate. The visiting team’s catcher signaled the pitcher. In slow motion, I saw the pitcher throw a fastball and a few seconds that seemed like minutes went by, and I heard a crack. The loudest, wood shattering crack of the game. I looked up and the ball was on it’s way over the fence into the crowd towards me. I raised my glove up with a small hope of catching it. “Come on son, you got this. This one’s yours!” yelled my dad. A second later I felt something smack my glove. I was in utter disbelief, and everyone cheered around me. This night had gotten so much better than it already was. The game was over, we had won. Fireworks erupted above the stadium and lit up the night sky like it was daytime. “We did it son, we did it! We’re going to the playoffs!” yelled my dad excitedly. It was a surreal moment. Upon exiting the stadium, I couldn’t wait for the moment we would return. But this time, it would be the

“I think we did really good” Hannah said after tryouts. “I don’t think I did that good.” I said out of breath. The next day we woke up bright and early to go to the fields to see who got in.

In just four seconds it was all over. Everything I knew about the game had vanished before me as I knew something had just gone terribly wrong. It was only the seventh game of my sophomore season when everything came to an end. In the early innings against Slidell, we clung to a minuscule lead of just one run; I knew that I had to step my game up if we had any chance of winning. As the game progressed through the night and the temperature dropped along with the sun, my body began to ache as I continually pushed it beyond its physical limits. Shivering in the dugout while covered with dried sweat and dirt, coach called my name since it was my turn to bat. As I stepped into the box, I peered down towards third base, catching a glimpse

This is the big game. The two best teams playing against each other. The Whitecaps V.S The Emeralds. I felt like it was the first day of school all over again. Only, it’s not, I’m not at school. Maybe softball school, is that even a thing? Anyways, when I see Maria she makes me smile. “Hey want to warm up?” I question her as I hunch over my bag to get my water.

         Initially, the day before I had dreaded coming to this game. I begged and pleaded but no luck I loathe baseball, it’s so boring! The week before that game, my father and I made a bet. He bet me that if I could sit and stay for an entire game that he would give me $100, and if I didn't that I would have to take on all the chores in the house. I DID NOT want to do that. A young girl around my age walked out to the field and began to sing the anthem.” So, how is it so far hun? Do you like it or are you ready to give up already?” my dad said laughing in my face. “Yes dad, you win i'm ready to leave. It’s so boring and nothing even happened yet. All we will be doing i sitting eating peanuts, and watching players run bases. Now is that fun?” He looked at me and sighed. “ Well, we're not leaving until this game is

As I stood motionless, I heard the voice of the opposing coach, " I told you she wouldn't throw strikes." When I finally realized what had happened, my heart plummeted down to my gut and disbelief filled me. I had walked in the tying run, and now I had walked in the winning run. As I walked to the sideline, the depths of defeat engulfed me. At that point, I understood what the agony of defeat