Summary Of A Short Story

“I suppose we could make another five miles before sunset, but this is a good place to make camp.” He motioned toward the grove of hickory trees. “If we pull out early we’ll reach Kansas City by midday. I reckon that’ll give you time to get settled in a hotel.”

Verin watched a group of young soldiers grapple behind the mess tent. He split his time between checking on Fynta and offering pointers when one of the guys showed bad form. So far, comms were still offline to the group that had entered the temple, but Verin didn’t worry. Fynta was impossible to kill, and he had little stake in the others. Granted, he rather liked the Togruta. She’d fought well on Tython.

Dorothy Allison's “I'm Working on My Charm” is a story of a young sixteen-year-old girl who works as a waitress with her mother. As a young daughter coming to the same field as the mother, the mother becomes a role model here and supports and helps her daughter on becoming a good waitress. She makes sure the environment her daughter is working on is good and that she is aware of the Yankees. Yankees doesn't see waitresses on the same level as they are. So, the mother is worried how her daughter will deal with Yankees and makes sure she knows how to handle different situations. The daughter is taught to use her charm to influence people. Also, Mabel, her mother's friend, teaches her how to bet on tips from customer. This story illustrates how an older person can be a guide for younger ones to be successful and accepted in the society.

Caleb Ramian just got done with his meeting at 4:30 this morning. He was walking back to his tent, and as always, all heads turned in awe towards him as he walked by.”Look its General Ramian!” shouted one of the soldiers. He was known as one of the best generals in history, all of history. He had fought in the U.S. Civil war a few years back, and led the union to an amazing victory, without him they would have undoubtedly lost. Caleb wasn’t a serious scary general either, he liked to joke and was even married and had 2 kids. The meeting he had that morning wasn’t really a meeting at all, but a chat with his wife and kids. He was usually a happy person, but not in these circumstances.

“You know,” Diedrich was getting at something important to our current reputation for each other, “I think I might just head on home and “talk” to the person who I think burned down our hut.”

In the story “Eleven” the narrator Rachel acts more like a child. In the eighth paragraph the character Rachel stated, “That’s not, I don’t, you’re not… Not mine”, I finally say in the little voice that was maybe me when I was four.” This reveals Rachel is acting like she was four when she said that sentence. Also, Rachel said “… I’ve shoved the red sweater to the tippy-tip corner of my desk and its hanging all over the edge like a waterfall, but I don’t care.” This illustrates Rachel was acting over dramatic just like a child by pushing the sweater to the tippy-tip corner of her desk. Rachel includes,” … I’m crying like I’m three”… “My face all hot and spit coming out of my mouth because I can’t stop the little animal noises from coming

This is not how the story progresses chronologically or chapterly, but merely how I decided to organize things based off of how the chapters fit together and what I am choosing to ignore for brevities sake.

My person was born on April 17, 1733 in Shadwell, Virginia. His mother was Jane and his Father was Peter. He was the third born of ten siblings. He was born into one of the most prominent Virginia families, because Jane was a member of the Randolph clan, which was a family that claimed they descended from English and Scottish Royalty. His father was a successful planter, surveyor, and cartographer

“With pleasure. And you're going to talk about the Civil War, you just told everyone that.” Pushing my chair into the desk, I walked out of that damn class, shutting the door behind me.

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

“Yes. Granny, I think she knows him. Plus, daddy told me that he had a new lady friend named Angel.”

Bull assisted yanking down his boxer briefs as the Doctor knelt behind the Sergeant and parted Bull’s fuckable ass.

A boy named Santiago was searching for a hidden treasure at the pyramids of Egypt. He slept at an abandoned church with a half-destroyed roof. He had a lot of sheep and used a book as a pillow. The boy knew an old woman that lived in Tarifa and interpreted dreams. When he was there he told her that he has dreamt the same dream twice and a little boy transported him to the Egyptian Pyramids and told him about a treasure. The woman told him that not to pay him for his visit, for she wanted one-tenth of the treasure he told her about. Then he went to the market for something to eat, he traded his book with a thicker one. He sat at a bench and started to read his book, when he finally understood the book an old man who was a king in a small land called Salem sat next to him and told him that the book he was reading said the same thing as almost all of the books in the world. Then he gave him two rocks, one black and one white. The black rock meant yes, and the white rock meant no. The king told him if Santiago had trouble reading the omens, he could just ask a question and the stones would help him. Then the king told him a story and Santiago understood that a shepherd like him may like to travel, but he should never forget about his sheep. Then he knew that he would give the sheep to the old man. Santiago needed money to go to the Egypt Pyramids so he worked for a month with a crystal merchant. When he had the money he went with an English man to Egypt. They met a girl named

Then a quiet voice out of the darkness spoke. Quiet, yet confident. It was so sudden, so unexpected, even the demons surrounding them were taken aback. Zoey could tell because they had a look of surprise on their face. But it instantly faded and turned into a malicious grin.

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.