Essay about Short Story

He came in without a word. I was stropping my best razor. And when I recognized him, I started to

Short Story The ancient house sat astride the cliff's rugged shoulders. Sections of rendering had fallen away into the tangled vegetation far below, revealing thick stone slabs underneath: toothless gaps, the dark smile of an old bearded gunrunner, and the oblivion of a whisky drunk, Brazilian whore. The house was four stories tall and had almost been reclaimed by the jungle; this ornate Churrigueresque fortress had been smashed and peppered for centuries by tropical elements intent on a gradual stripping away of its baroque stone carvings.

The school bell rang and we were all happy to get our bags and get loaded on the bus. All this excitement filled the halls as all the basketball players got out of class. As we were heading over to Sunray for our tournament we kept thinking, and thinking, and thinking over our plays. Three games were to be played and we were for sure going to win them all. We were ready to make our hearts bleed blue and white.

I stalked them, even though the thick clouds formed by my shorter, quicker breaths and the ghostly paleness of my sheathing made me yearn to be in a different place. I ended up glancing at rotting walls that were a mere ghostly silhouette of previous existence. It shuddered on the hill, wishing that the sunlight would come to warm the emptiness within. The golden rays revealed the occupancy of ghosts that arose from the untrodden front door steps, as silent as the grave. The windows stared back at me, as if daring me to enter this skeletal statue. The door stood wide open, teasing me to take a look inside and beyond the murderous flickering of the porch light. Suddenly, a gunshot cracked into the air as loud as thunder but without the rawness of a

Bizarre sounds gradually got louder and peculiar smells overwhelmed my nose as the world behind the door was revealed, one sense at a time. Progressively adjusting as I took each step, my eyes were still becoming used to the effulgent light. Mesmerised by the beautiful sight of what appeared to be a large square, surrounded by townhouses varying from dark beige to a dirty brown seemingly no more than five metres in height. The square’s ground comprised of roughly arranged cobblestones, as if whoever lay them were in a hurry. At the opposite side of the square to where I stood, I could see a monumental tower that loomed over the square. It had a single window, overlooking the

Antagonist: Captain Torres Flat and a little stereotypical: The captain does not show his thoughts or feelings. he is a standard, cruel, brutal army officer bad guy, killing the good revolutionaries. However, he shows a little change is telling the barber that “Killing isn’t easy, is it? You can take my word for that.”

Out of breath I was pushing my leg muscles to carry me home as the storm got worse. Lighting flashing everywhere my heart started racing. I had never in my life had been this terrified of a thunder storm in my life. Trembling, I could barely hold on to the rubber grips on my bicycle. Coming around the corner I could see my beige house in the

Human behavior is one of the most studied and talked about traits of human beings, for it makes us who we are after all. It is prevalent in books, movies, stories, and most importantly life, everything we do involves it. In all of the short stories we read, aspects of human behavior where the basis of the writings. The short stories "A Rose For Emily" and "Barn Burning" show excellent human reactions to life's challenges through the themes of social status and death.

Yep, yeahs, and ah-huhs were all replied back to her, but when Peggy took notice of what Zack sounded like, her gray eyes shifted firmly to him and then bulged from out her head. “Jesus, what the hell happened to you?”

Hiding behind fallen hair, she rubbed her palms against her jeans (Jacob and Emma both changed into more inconspicuous clothing).

He was on his way home when the accident happened. Everyone thought it was because of the rain and in a way, that was true. It had been bucketing down, making it hard to see through the heavy rain drops on the windscreen even with the headlights on. The front end of her red car had crumpled from impact, making the windscreen implode with shattered glass. The front passenger door was torn from it hinges laying several metres away and the front wheels had spun off their axis into the night. There had been so much noise. A choir of grinding, exploding, popping and then finally the soft silence of the night.

In October, the children must walk to school in the rain and mud and are splashed by the vindictive driver of the white school's bus. (The black school cannot afford a bus because the county does not give it enough money.) One day, after being forced off the road into a muddy ditch, Stacey leads his siblings in digging a trench across the road at lunchtime to make it look like the road has washed out. After school, they watch from the forest as the bus drives into the ditch, breaking its axle, flooding its engine, and leaving the white students without a bus for two weeks.

Your story goes here: It was one of the worst thunderstorms of the year as I was watching a movie at my uncle's house. The heavy rain splattering the window beside me and the distant thunder gave a calming ambience to the dull background. It was around 9:30 pm that I decided to head to bed. I gently opened the door and tiptoed across the hall, quiet to not wake up my sleeping uncle, who wouldn't exactly be calm about being woke up. My uncle was slightly groggy fellow, he wasn't exactly what you’d call a exciting person. He has black shaggy hair compared to my slick blond hair, he wears usually loose clothing so his belly usually bulges out too. As I crawled into my bed, I still heard the rainy dripping outside as my sight faded to black. I woke to a banging sound, I thought it was something that fell from downstairs, something not uncommon in the the old house. I decided to climb out of bed and look out the window. I undid the curtains and tried to see through the murky glass. I cleared the fog from the window and looked outside. The field behind our house was all I saw. I looked at the cellar under my window and saw nothing too. “Yep something fell,” I remember murmuring. I climbed back into bed and dozed away again. I woke again to another bang, I looked to my left to see the time and saw I had only slept 30 minutes. I was now becoming confused, why would something fall twice in the night, thunder can't shake a house. Can it?

A young man, about five foot 5 is tearing down the street as fast as he can. "Gotta go gotta go! I do NOT need to wait in a giant line like Ogla did," he said as he runs toward a building with a big sign saying, Adventurers Guild.

so that he also may catch a glimpse of a fairy. As Luke begun to run