Short Story Essay

A “survivor car” is what the newspapers called it, did not stop such notice; gathering from the darkness a moment of miracle, and then disappear for the next bend. Michaelist wasn’t even sure of the facts – he told the press about the incident. The yellow car the one going toward new york, approximating beyond, hurried back to myrtle’s location, and abruptly change target to the nearest obstacle in the road, colliding in a big speed and intensity, surrounding the road with metallic parts of a wrecked car.

Curious, I looked up at the building and suddenly my heart stopped. My muscles contracted and my nerves sent a violent quake through my body. I didn’t notice the dropped cigarette that was burning a hole in my pants. Finally, the pain bit me. I grabbed the cigarette, throwing it out the window while almost swerving off the road. After regaining control, I closed my eyes and reopened them to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating; I wasn‘t. Ten police cars sat in front of the school, all in a perfect line with their drivers standing close-by. I contemplated driving off but it was too late. We had already been spotted.

A number of police officers set up a sting in which there were to be buy of crack cocaine outside an apartment complex in Lexington, Kentucky. Undercover Officer Gibbons watched the deal from an undercover car in a parking lot not far the from the sale area. After the deal took place, Office Gibbons radioed several other police officers. He instructed them to close in on the suspects. He advised the officers to “hurry and get there” because the suspect was making his way towards the breezeway of an apartment building. Officers arrived at the parking lot, leaving their vehicles and run to the breezeway. As soon as they enter the breezeway they hear a door shut and can detect a strong odor

What is the point of any piece of great literature? Or rather, what is great literature? Some would say that accomplished literature is a way of exceptionally telling a story. However, what is the point of storytelling? In many cases, stories are told for entertainment. However, most stories have a moral or theme conveying an important message about life or how to live it. This is the point of great literature, to convey this message beautifully. Some pieces of great literature are The Story-Teller, by Saki, Geraldine Moore the Poet, by Toni Cade Bambara, and Enemy Territory, by William Melvin Kelley. To understand the themes of great literature, you must also understand how to analyze it. The content

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

A five-year, Mamaroneck Policeman, Christopher Decozno, was hurt extravagantly on his cold, lifeless chest from a bullet wound by a infamous criminal. The criminal used the Waze App to find, harm, and hunt the policeman. The officer took a robust punch that knocked him to the concrete floor. Lying down painfully, his head, on the left aspect, is awfully cut, his left eye and ear, being a lot of mutilated. The officer song down on the ground while there was no movement.

It had been exactly two months since I joined the Metropolitan police. It was November Ninth the day murder took place, Mary Jane Kelly was her name. Ironic, don’t you think? Jack McCarthy had found her body after deciding to collect her overdue rent. He had supposedly showed up to her room in Miller’s Court and had noticed the window was shattered and after looking through it and seeing the mortifying image of her mangled body, he ran looking for an inspector to come and look at the ghastly scene. He found Inspectors Abberline and Beck. I arrived half an hour after Inspectors Abberline and Walter Beck after

I am awoken by the high-pitched ringing in my ears and the wailing sirens that are progressively growing louder . My drowsy eyes slowly shift towards the shattered car window on my right and I notice that the once shiny, black hood of my Jeep is now tattered and completely demolished like a dog’s old chew toy. A body pulls me out of the car and drags me towards the sidewalk - my clothes scraping and my shoes scuffing against the rough asphalt of the road. Silently laying on the cold concrete, I become aware of a slight hissing so tilt my head to the right, and to my surprise, I discover a tarnished radiator swinging from the hood of the car. Bumping against a tree every few seconds, the hissing of the radiator comes to a gradual stop, leaving

Larry Niven, an ASU grad student, was walking south on Mill Avenue about to cross on University Drive when “the two cars fired passed” him. He continues, “If I had stepped off the curb, I’d be dead now.” Witnessing the damage the Prius undertook, he said “it just blew apart.”

“A consistent team of six undercover vehicles must be accumulated.” Lt. Marshall began to appoint his team. “Thomas and Peterson, take down car number one. Jones and Davis, take down car number two. Navarro and William, fully marked car. Lee and Montez, unmarked car. Gomez, Yang, West, Walker, surveillance van. Nunez and Cavil, eye car and Gibson and Salazar, drug buyers.” The male officers immediately gawked at Mary and Eddie. “Gibson and Salazar will be posing as drug addicts. However, only one of them will approach the dealer and persuade that person to present the product for a bust. Ladies, please step out and discuss and decide who will do what. We’ll wait patiently here for your return and final decision.”

“There’s a note.” The police officer hands you the note. In return, you gave the sarin gas bottle back to the police officer. “Make sure it is properly dispose.” The police officer nodded and left the room. You open the note, it reads:

WEEEOOO WEEEOOO!!!! The screeching sirens rang throughout the city like a record replaying. This lime blue Toyota 4 was driving recklessly in downtown Denver. The physio path behind the wheel of the lime blue car was Walter. Walter had never been the kid to ever take risks during his child hood so now he wanted to show people that he could be like Evil Knievel. Walter turned the corner extremely hard which sent him crushing into a little bakery right on the curb. Walter got out of the car panicking and raced the street running from the cops. “SIR, YOU NEED TO STOP RUNNING OR WE WILL HAVE TO TAKE YOU DOWN,” hollered the cops. Walters’s blood was rushing so fast the all he had in mind was this is going to be an extraordinary story to tell everyone.

The thin cylinder brushed past my cracked lips, and I let my eyes flutter shut as I dragged the smoke into my body, letting it collect my anxiety, before exhaling my stress out into the open air in a white, spiralling cloud. Despite all the empty coffee mugs in my office, it always failed to surpass the nicotine. My eyes opened; I felt the heat of my cigarette make my insides flush and buzz all at once. Lazily, I scanned the area from the balcony I stood on, colossal buildings seeming insignificant beneath me. My gaze travelled to the nearly empty packet in my hand; “Davidoff Lights” it read, along with the warning.

Mounting the tents. I felt as if I was captured inside a fire cracker. The smoke became a heavy gaze. Any minute this car would go up in flames. Once I was out I called 000. They were on their way. I immediately opened the driver’s door to pull Brad out first. He contained a free path although the car was caved in at the front. I grasped onto Brads bloody arms. Without thinking, I hauled him out. His legs were crushed under the steering wheel. I continued to pull until it became near impossible. Flashing lights and sirens were rushing towards me. A sigh of relief shot through my beaten up body. My head felt light and dizzy. I took a few steps back only to fall onto the ground. Red and blue lights flashed and intensified. I blacked

On May 25, 2017, Police Officer Carlus Ingram, DSN 7956, and I (Probationary Police Officer James Harris III, DSN 0513) manning vehicle 2421, received a radio assignment for a “Disturbance” at 711 Biddle. Upon arrival, we were met by victim Hallmon Clyde who advised us of the following: