Analysis Of Don 'T Know And I M Working On My Charm'

“I’m Working on My Charm” written by Dorothy Allison is a story of a southern girl at a party consisting of Yankees. It brings her back to the time when she was sixteen and working at a counter with her mother. Her mother had taught her the tricks of being a well-tipped waitress while serving to a variety of customers. The waitresses each played a game where they would guess the tip their customer would give before ordering. Yankees were the most difficult customer, whom no one would bet on because they were inconsistent with their tips. The narrator soon learned to “work her charm” on the Yankees in order to please them. At the party, she continues to use her southern charm to win the

Society has developed the gender role of women to be caretakers of their children and the household. In her poem “Girl”, Jamaica Kincaid writes a short narrative of a mother giving her daughter advice about how to behave and her responsibilities as a woman. The mother tells her daughter how to do several of the traditional housewife’s duties, such as washing clothes, preparing meals, and cleaning the house. She also instructs her on how to behave when men are present. According to her, the daughter must smile to men she likes, dislikes, despises, and is unfamiliar with. The mother informs her daughter about abusive and

Dorothy Allison's voice is one of authenticity, experience, and wisdom. This is apparent in her recounts of her mother's death and rape by her abusive stepfather as a child. She uses her storytelling as a way of sorting out her inner demons and memories of her broken life, “the [story] I wish I could make you hear,” as she says, because “the need to tell [her] story was terrible and persistent, and [she] needed to say it bluntly and cruelly, to use all those words, those old awful tearing words” (39, 42). She strives to get to the root of her own unresolved issues and, by her own admission, “[works] to make you believe [her]”:

“The next moment they were in the shed, walking past the long line of stalls, when suddenly Nelly heard her father cry out: We've got him, sheriff! Block the door!”

My story was about a teacher named alison. She believes that a good teacher is a teacher that gets to know her students heart to heart and not head to head. She thinks that teachers should get to know their students. Alison said her getting to know her students has given her courage to get to know more students as the years go by. Alison says

“I would still be running and screaming ‘get him out of here,'” Sylvia said and laughed.

All of their corpses lay upon the ground. At eternal rest they lay silent. The remains are bloodied and sliced to the point of no recognition. Time is still, and I stand in the room adjacent from the carcasses. My head is spinning, my breath is quick. The knife in my hand suddenly feels as if it’s one thousand degrees. The smell of iron creeps into my nose and shakes me to the core. I become so shaky that the seemingly ablaze knife comes loose and falls to the ground. A crisp three clicks fills my ear, and I suddenly am standing with a revolver to my head.

“I’m fine, really,” Jared said as he closed his trailer door, still holding the ice pack over his now blackened eye. The truth was he was anything but fine.’ He shakily walked over to the couch and sat down. There wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t’ hurt. The crew had just witnessed and broken up Jensen kicking his ass up and down the set.

She forgot about the restraints in her headlong rush forward, however, in her defense, her thoughts were on Tung, not herself. Before Kalyssa could react and backpedal away from disaster, her head snapped backward and her feet went out from under her.

It’s exactly 8 ante meridiem eastern time when I open the glass door, with those pastel flyers repainted by the sun and torn by time. For the eight hundred and thirty fifth time that familiar gust of wind greets me as it always does, well except for that one time on Tuesday, July 7th 2015 when the power went out all over town. I walked the eight and three-quarters steps it took to reach the milky white counter with its 9,867 black specks. That was exactly sixty-nine times as many as the visible freckles John had while he was in his uniform. I’ve had orgasmic dreams about the number of sprinkles of melanin scattered across his fair skin that his uniform kept from my sight. I’d started to count the thirty-nine freckles on the back of his

“OUT!” roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

Cloud just shook his head and laid down on the floor next to the sheep. The smile that had formed on his face refused to go away. He was happy that he was able to stay in the same room as Shisa.

Taehyung gasped loudly, expecting the worse, but only whimpered softly, melting onto the door once it all sank in.

Brrrring! The phone rings and Officer Kevin Blake picks it up. ¨Please hurry. My husband Tom Hanks has been killed!¨

The rusty, scarlet gear of Jimmy’s clock starts to turn as usual on this crisp autumn morning. Although school was out on this particular Sunday in 1945, the ringing of his clock began at six o’clock and lasted until the drowsy boy could lift his rawboned hands. The crimson colored cotton blanket was tiredly kicked off by his scrawny foot. His light skin was soon met with a chilling breeze that gave shivers down the boys four-foot-seven frame.