Personal Narrative-Joji's Life

“You can have it,” he says. I smiled, I was so excited! I never thought he would give it to me. “Really?!” I ask. He started to look through more of his old things and took out some things and put them off to the side and I also looked through those boxes.

Since he did not frequent bars and was not sure which one might be tolerable, on his walk home from work, he marched into the first watering hole he spotted in a strip mall. He hadn’t noticed the name of the place, but once inside, the dim light, tacky floors, and funk of stale beer made it clear this was not an upscale establishment, but it was too late to turn around. Besides, did it really matter where he swilled tequila?

Your fingertips followed the movement of your hand as they brushed over the wood grain, barely making contact as each one dragged against the oak. Occasionally, your path was interrupted by pools of spilt alcohol, fluid spawning ripples with every beat of unidentified music. The vocals could have been French, Spanish or Enochian. You didn’t know, nor did you care. Alternative rock. Classical. Rap. Whatever the label, it was all just a distant murmur of voices and instruments. But the smell, you certainly noticed. The stench of summer sex and CK eternity, oh, hell, yes. In all honesty, the only reason you chose the company of intoxicated minds over the depths of bed blankets was the promise of some form of gain. From a free drink to the occasional pickpocketing, you would take anything considering your situation. Maybe things would be different if you didn’t call a different motel room every night ‘home’ and dinner meant whatever you could swap for what little cash you owned.

Jonny ordered more beer. One bottle after another, and finally he collapsed redundant. The cops came and took him home. After that day, Mia met Jonny at the bar once a week. one day, Jonny didn’t drink, but there and seemed like he was waiting for someone.

On Saturday, August 01, 2015, approximately 239 hours, I was dispatch to Conyers Police Department, 1147 Scott St. Upon my arrival, I met with the complainant Jeanette Higgins. Higgins advised me that her wrist wallet had been taken from the counter top as she purchased her items at Ross, 2203 Ga Highway 20.

Plentiful libations always set Shirley off about men and needy egos. The vodka on the rocks supplied by her hot-and-bothered gent was gone. She’d drunk way more than she could remember on this mischief-ridden night.

I hope you slept well. I had a dream I was in school and Alec Baldwin was the principal. Then I was in lexington and trying to get a rental car but all of the customers kept cutting me, I finally get a car but then its stolen with my wallet. Ha! I am going to walk over in a bit and see if Mike is going to Grandma's. Mom is totally still asleep, it's confirmed the past 1.5 years all she's done is sit in her room and watched tv.. you can tell by every angle of this house and her. At least I did stuff may not have been much and I might have been drunk or high.. but I still did things and WORKED...*DOT

Although some people believe that supernatural creatures aren’t real, I know they are. When I was ten years, I experienced something horrifying. Let me tell you the dreadful experience I witnessed.

The temperature was falling fast. It’s windy. There was snow in the rain that was splatting against the windows of the houses. The roads were as empty as those on Sunday mornings. Jacquen was going home in a car along with his parents. his father was driving the car very recklessly for the weather was getting worse and he had to catch a flight to Los Angeles the next morning. suddenly his father saw a wagon approaching them like a monstrous beast . His father slammed on the brake to avoid crashing into the wagon but the road was slippery. a sudden panic rushed into the car. they were blinded by the headlight from the wagon and the car continued to slip and finally barged into the

I’m Dave, today at work, Mr. Disney made us work on the drawings of air planes coming down to attack, for the new Donald Duck episode on this war against Hitler, it’s tough to hear things floating around in the warehouse about how the teacher are teaching kids in Germany to hail Hitler. I was making a mosquito for the bombs and John was working on the Paint for the airplanes.

I never allow myself to be vulnerable or express anything that isn’t happiness but here it is.

Coya, would you like to come visit? If you decide to I would what I can to help. I have a new passport pick it up about a week ago. Again weight should not be too much of a situation, with all the fast food place around. However, look for a very healthy way to gain weight is best. Look online sweetie and get some idea that way. Hence, I see a beautiful young and impressive women, my oldest daughter before me. Jocoya is you working on your goal? What is needed to get that going if you stopped?

The photo album was an old one, and she turned the pages slowly, brooding over each one, trying to understand the girl she had been. Here she was, half turned away from the camera holding on to the brim of her hat, as if she thought the wind might snatch away. And here, walking hand in hand in with Alex in Brighton. Then, Alex and her in a restaurant, with a couple she didn’t recognise, and a series of snaps taken in Paris, during a weekend at the start of their relationship. In all the photographs, Alex was dominant, as if he had gathered all the light; she was a dim presence beside him. He looked straight at the camera, while she looked to the side, as if something in her peripheral vision had caught her attention. Her younger self embarrassed her. There was no record of later on in her relationship with Alex. If there had been, they would have shown the subtle shift in her character; living with Alex, hanging out with him and

“Bring someone,” she had said with a smile that always meant mischief, so here I was with Miller, in the back seat of Scottie’s car on our way to Anita’s, where we would get drunk off whatever we could find in her mom’s liquor cabinet and whatever Scottie brought us. Tonight, it was some red wine (“Fifty dollar Cabernet Sauvignon, not just wine,” Anita had scolded) and lemon-flavored vodka with grapefruit juice, because that’s all we could find in the fridge. I’d had about two and a half glasses of each by the time Anita said, “Let’s go to the Woodgate church!”

For the rest of lunch, I thought about Justin’s story. I wasn’t sure I entirely believed it because Justin was known for telling outlandish stories. The thought, however, remained fixed in his mind. Maybe I wasn’t the only one seeing or experiencing unusual things. Maybe something really strange was going on in East Bay. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded paper from my Economics class. While no one was looking, I quickly wrote—Old man at Lake Willowberry—I then circled it and attached it to one of the branches before quickly shoving the paper back into my pocket.