Creative Essay
The computers in the hide away. the vending machines in the kitchens.the showers in their coves? abandoned all the same .and the cafeteria ,too-
Unfrequented by all but nurses.
That night my ruminations wound me round many corners. along dark windows .Crawling up escalators. Beneath hall-spanning bulletins of sick children grinning beside their nurses.
That 's supposed to be you, I told myself.
In the hospital lobby, a pair of stained glass orca whales hung from the skylight.The whales wavered in degrees. Two-dimensional tales over eight floors of foyer. Creeping as if their cables could twist,snap,then fall down,the whole pod singing ,wailing to the linoleum...
Shattering.
I was lying in claire 's hospital bed.
Her iv shrilled.
"Air in line" flashed on the LED screen.claire murmuerd .She snored .The snore was so fierce that it-not the alarm-woke me.She would get used to it.I would get used to it. but some things you shouldnt get used to,even when theyre inevitable.
Her chest rose and fell ,I lay awake. all along the hospital ward ,an alarm was whining. "code blue,code blue,code blue-"it said as I climbed out of bed and cracked open the door.Cold and sticky ,linoleum stuck to my feet.down the hall, nurses gathered in the doorway. A crash cart rattled around.a crash cart rattled around the corner. as the cart drew nearer ,it grew and grew until-
It rumbled through the onlookers.
The alarm continued.
"code blue ,code blue" and that 's when i saw it : shimmering
“We must tell people, Corrie. We must tell them what we learned,” said Betsie. The Hiding Place, by Corrie ten Boom, is the biography of a woman in Holland during the Holocaust. The book starts out in 1937, in Haarlem, Holland. Corrie and her family were Christians who hid Jews from persecution by the German soldiers. Corrie was forced to make decisions and take actions all throughout different periods in her life. When her mother fell ill, she learned to care for someone who couldn’t do anything for her. During the time when the family was hiding the Jews, she was forced to be brave and strong. Finally, when her family was taken to the concentration camps, Corrie, with the help of her sister
Killer whales, also known as orcas, are the largest member of the oceanic dolphin family. In their natural habitat, killer whales have been described as docile and majestic creatures. Killer whales are known to travel in pods that are composed of matrilines. Matrilines are groups of whales connected by maternal descent. Relationships between killer whale calves and their mother are extremely close knit (“Behavior”). Beginning in 1965, SeaWorld – a marine zoo, began capturing whales from the wild to perform in shows for park visitors’ entertainment (“10 Things You Didn’t Know”). In the documentary Blackfish, director Gabriela Cowperthwaite urges and reassures audience members that keeping these large creatures in captivity is a horrible thing that is dangerous for both the whales as well as the humans that interact with them. To accomplish this persuasion, Cowperthwaite employs the use of rhetorical devices ethos, pathos, and logos to solidify her claims.
One-thirty on a Thursday morning. I laid in bed worrying, after watching John rush to Main Street for a fire call. My head spun as the pager near my head continued to dispatch calls. “Be careful on the roof Watson, I can see light through,” Feltner’s voice echoed. Ambulance sirens boomed down a four-block stretch of Main Street. My body sprung from the bed and hurried out and down the block. My face began to fill with heat. Just then another page came through, “I know idiot, I put it there.” It was John’s voice. I felt relief and began to walk back down the sidewalk to our home. I heard a young girl screaming for her dog, hysterically. Finally, back in my house, I completely forgot that I had left the two girls upstairs. Thankfully,
As she opened the door, she hoped to herself that the inside was nearly as well done, to her delight... it was. The carpenters had fully replaced the banister and painted it and the blood trail was gone from the hardwood. All of the workers were huddled inside the cafe sipping on some coffee, they appeared to be taking a break. Her heart began to race as she ran up the stairs, it was rounding on five and they couldn’t afford a break...or could they. Cleo froze on the top step, it was unimaginable. Every fleck of wall and every particle of dust was in its original condition. No blood, no knives, not a single atom out of place. In stunned silence, she paced the hardwood floor, she walked from the railing to the bathrooms. She wasn’t sure how
Visualising herself sitting at the desk with her favourite calendar tilted towards incoming patients. She was quickly brought back to reality when a call came from the blocks came through. Tahlia heard the muffled words “Code Blue” through the nurses pocket. For a minute, confusion swept over her, until she recalled what the phrase meant.
I sat in the common area as the other patients colored and played cards. What they were doing didn’t really matter to me, I just wanted to be alone. I’d always feel like I was drowning, so it came to me as a surprise to me when the nurses told me that if I were breathing, I was winning. At night I’d lay on the blue plastic mattress and miss my room and everything it stood for. The blue lights that are strung along my bed, illuminate my nights. The pictures of the one I love line my walls, they are the barrier that protects me from the rest of the world. The blue plastic mattress draped in thin white sheets stood for the cold empty feeling I couldn’t get rid of. My nights were full of my thoughts bombarding my
She stumbled once finally standing, her head banging against the bedside table before finally hitting the wood flooring. The sound of something falling was noted by her tired brain at the same time as the sharp pain in her hand when Norma laid a hand on the floor. There seemed to be a significant lag between actions and reactions as her troubled eyes swept through the bedroom. Throughout her blurred vision she saw blood on her hand and little silver things shining in the middle of that small red pool, deep in her flesh; she didn't exactly understood what the things were until she noticed glass shards on the floor. She grabbed the lamp with her uninjured hand and got up on shaky legs, ready to collapse at any
In the dark foggy alley Normîrel ran. The smell of rain and sour milk filling the air. She ran down the long narrow alley way, watching mice scurry as her feet splash in the clear dirty rain puddles. Her heart ponding in her chest. Hearing the sound of the motorcycle behind her, her heart stopped. Running faster, Normîrel turned on to the street and down the other alley. With the sound of her footsteps echoing in her ears. A car pulled up at one end of the alley. Making another turn in the twisty foggy alley way, Normîrel fell. The screams of her pain raining out in the cold brisk air. Hearing footsteps, Normîrel crawled to some near-by dumpsters and hid. The footsteps getting louder and close, Normîrel stayed as quite as she could while trying to muffle her cries of pain. Her leg is dirty with the dark red color and she chocked on the smell of gas and smoke that filled her nose.
Homeland security was created by the Bush administration in 2001 as a result of the September 11th events. It is an independent agency in the United States whose mission is to protect the nation from potential terrorist attacks. Together the agency is made up of twenty two agencies and 180,000 employees. Their main focus is “intelligence and warning; boarder and transportation security; domestic counterterrorism; protecting critical infrastructure; defending against catastrophic threats; and emergency preparedness and response” (Whitehouse 1). The agency could not carry out these important tasks if it were not for the latest in computer technology.
Technological Surveillance In an age where instant communication and technology provide easy and ready access to information, the society and the individual is caught between two very controversial principles- open information and privacy. The perceptions and expectations of privacy are rapidly changing as a result of current developments in surveillance technologies. The question is are these new surveillance technologies endangering the values and morals of our democratic society, the society we have worked for many centuries to achieve?
Grey lights filled the already cold room. The constant beeps and clicks from the machines against the wall scraped away at the silence that hardened the air. Every once in a while the beeps would get faster, and then fall back down to a steady, rhythmic pace. A small, frail girl lay motionless in the center of a white hospital bed. Her mouth propped slightly open with various tubes running down her throat, and hands connected to the machines through an elaborate arrangement of cords and needles. The warmth had already escaped her body, and to the touch, she was just as cold as the room. Curled up tightly in a chair next to her, I sat patiently and held her cold hand, as I spoke softly into her ear. I never thought I would have ended up here, in a small room with my mom, next to the body of my dying grandma. But I was.
The digital age provides individuals with numerous ways of innovative opportunities like recording data in an effective manner, electronic banking, online shopping, by violating privacy. Despite what might be expected, the national and global security framework needs components to check programmers and outsider interceptors, who can access delicate data and information, placed in various divisions of the financial framework. These outsider interceptors can then break-in remotely to harm or get access to passwords and usernames.
It was a few hours before the arrival of the mysterious biker that the harsh blare ripped Olivia Young from sleep. It was the same blare that sounded every morning at six thirty, a blast of white noise filling the air of the dormitory room for ten seconds as the equally harsh, fluorescent white tube lights blinked into life over head. The room full of teenagers weren't exactly springing into life, Liv included. A moan slipped past the slender brunette's lips as she rolled over on to her front, burying her face in the single pillow as she pulled the thin duvet up around herself.
A million thoughts that day were running through my head when I hung up the phone, is she ok?, why did this happen?, what’s the quickest way to the hospital? I was speeding all the way to the hospital. I was lucky I didn’t get pulled over. When I got to the hospital I rushed over to Bailey she was in a wheelchair and a technician guy was talking to her. Bailey was just going in for her first test and I said ‘’she would be fine.’’ but I didn’t know that for sure, I hoped she would be anyway.
A study of how computer games, as a modern narrative form, draw on and develop the tradition of espionage fiction.