Hello Diana, sorry I missed your comment on sunday, I wasn't following the posts as I should have been, I'm not much better, I just didn't want to miss another show. I saw the podiatrist on Monday and she said my toes aren't healing as they should, so I have just started a new course of antibiotics, but this time I have got liquid instead of capsules, it's supposed to be pineapple flavour, but it's the foulest pineapple I've ever tasted. Today I had to go back to get a nurse to put another dressing on, the podiatrist on Monday put so much bandage around it I couldn't get any shoes on, some of them just don't think. My toes are so sore all the time, it's never ending. I think the sunday show is dying, there are fewer and fewer people on here,
It wasn’t always easy. As a matter of fact, it was never easy for us. I’m sure you’d have agreed. Surely it was tough for you to let us go, but I want you to know that I’m thankful you did.
Kris: Monday is here next week and then will be gone the rest of the week starting July.
Luna I stand out from everyone else, but I think that is special So what my life has a little dishevel I was walking down the hall yesterday When I stumbled upon a boy who appeared very grey I brushed it off as just another stupid boy who doesn’t care I decided I’d wait for my Romeo elsewhere
I push the cracked oak wood tavern door open. Eyes sweep across the room falling on me. Wearing a dark hood and cloak concealing all but my piercing ice blue eyes and half of my nose. My wide chest, wiry arms, thick legs and my two swords also hidden away underneath my cloak. I’ve been growing my beard out, short cropped it isn’t much to deal with. The tavern is laid thick with the scents of; stale alcohol, fresh bread, and charred savory meat roasting on the spit in the center of the tavern. In the opposite corner of the tavern sits a table bathed in shadows with four armed individuals.
It changes everytime you ask. Some say it was a virus, others say it was god punishing us for our sins. At least that’s what the people on the news say. All I know is that the dead are walking among us. I’ve seen people I used to know attack and eat innocent people. Everyday I see my dad walking among them, wishing there something i could have done. I couldn’t bring myself to kill one of the only people i’ve loved. He attacked me but i managed to fight him off and i’ve been held up in my house ever since. It’s a small house, nothing fancy, in a small town near Chicago called Glenview. Everyday I think about my half brother that lived in New York with his mom. After my dad and his mom split I didn’t think life could get any worse, I was
I slam my locker and turn to my best friend, Kelly Walter. "Please tell me again why we had that dreaded geography test today." I said. "Cheer up, Ally. It was pretty easy. You're stressing over nothing." She said.
I slipped out of bed trying my hardest not to disturb Red. I could still hear the light, upbeat tune drifting through the open window. I don't know why but there was something that was drawing me towards the sound.
I was in fourth grade when I joined the choir. I loved choir, the songs, the singing, the people, and the teacher, Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller was so lovely, she had copper-colored hair, like a red panda with less fur. And she had great singing voice, she had brown eyes, and wrinkles on her face from smiling so much. She had a face that made you think of getting a fresh batch of Snickerdoodles hot out of the oven. But as the year moved on I had more and more things to do. Choir was getting in the way of my study time, I had gotten 3 B’s on my report card, that’s more than I’m used to. So I quit choir so I could get my work done. Then, towards the end of the year, I had caught up with all of my work, I had started to focus better and had more time,
Maybe they were through goading one another - I surely hoped so. I picked up my glass to take a sip of wine. I had been using this time to pretend to casually, gaze around the room. Myles Laveau caught my eye and smiled a half smile as he raised his glass to his lips. His date, the Baroness Portella, must have seen that his eye was otherwise entertained because she turned to glance over her shoulder at me. I saw the scathing stare she gave me through her thin, lacy veil- much like Boudreaux’s stare, it cuts to the bone. I half expected her to fling her drink into Laveau’s face, she seemed quite angry- but then, he leaned forward and whispered something in her ear and she turned to look at me again; this time, she smiled. I wondered what Myles had said to her for her to smile at me that way. The desire to know what he said was causing me to be anxious, as was the desire to see beneath the veil, but I needed to take care of the situation of my husband and lover goading each other first - I would ask Myles what was said between he and the Baroness the next time I was with him.
The man and woman hurried silently side by side down the dank passage. Occasionally, the woman would glance furtively over her shoulder. The passage was dark, and the only illumination came from a glowing torch that the man carried. The low light shone brightly enough to see that they were both nobles, for they were dressed with distinction.
"Little Miss Florence, hold your knives with bliss. Don't let your heart falter, don't grimace at hell. Open your eyes, open your arms, open your mind to the death of a thousand men."
In a silvery voice, I respond “It’s sensational. Thank you for taking the time to do all this for me.” His face lights up, his smile stretches from ear to ear. And that’s all it takes for me to get lost in his bright blue eyes. “You know I’m glad, James convinced me to take Kyle up on his offer. I’m glad we met Isabelle, I can’t imagine anything better than being here with you.” A shy giggle slips past my lips. “You cheeseball.” Xavier expression turns to shock, “Did you just call me a cheeseball?” He advances towards, like a wild animal hunting its prey. My emotions are between scared and excited.
“Tonight’s the dance!” I yell as I walk through the front door. I’m Raven a 6th grade girl and tonight's the spring dance. “I’M ON THE PHONE!” screams her mother, “sorry.” I whisper. I go and get something to eat, then do homework. When I’m done I go and takes a shower and picks out my dress. I’m a pasty white girl with long black hair. While I pack a bag for Katie's house, I starts humming a line from a song that I don’t know the tittle of. Then I started singing, “ Because it's too cold whoa,for you here, So now let me hold whoa both your hands through the holes of my sweater.” “Raven! You almost ready?”, say her mother. “ Yes ma!” I yells her sister gets home and is already watching T.V.
In That Evening Sun, William Faulkner approaches the story through an anecdotal style that gives meaning to the story. The narrator uses the anecdote that happened to him to convey the story’s underlying meaning that people are restricted by social class and race, not realizing this meaning himself at the time. The era of racism pertains to the meaning of the story, discussing the aversion of southern white people to help those different from them, focusing on the restrictions that society has placed on social class and race separation and the desire to maintain the division.
Your bright dim light glows apart from the rest You’re fragile to touch but mesmerizing to stare at You twinkle and shine like no one else We meet every night Wherever I travel there you follow You've watched me cry, laugh, and smile I look up and there you are waiting By morning you're gone Your flame is no longer there