Essay about The Endless Day

I heard the faint high pitched beeping of my alarm clock as I opened my sleep covered eyes. I attempted to roll out from under my covers but immediately retreated as I felt the chilly spring air touch my skin. While I was mustering up the motivation to get out of bed, I glanced at my alarm clock. “11:00 AM” it read in boxy, glowing numbers. Had I really slept in that long? I finally rose from my bed, traveling down the stairs to make myself some breakfast. “Hi, girl!” I greeted my dog where she was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. I smiled to myself as I turned on some music, opened the fridge to retrieve some eggs, and turned on the stove. It felt like a fine Saturday morning until I remembered that I had a lacrosse game later

I walked into the classroom and started setting down chairs and wiping down tables. Ms. Justine was getting excited pulling out the children’s shirt that they had tie died the day before. Ms. Alyssa liked the shirts. Lucy F. came in first and Ms. Justine said “Lucy F. what do you think should I give you your shirts now or later today?” Lucy F. said “I think you should give them now.” Ms. Justine gave Lucy F. and Lucy F.’s mother their shirts as they held them up and looked at them. Lucy F. said “It’s so pretty.” Chase came in and asked to see his shirt and then Manaf, Lucy B., and Assel all came in and asked to see their shirts. Mr. Scott went out and got the rest of the class including Lucas, Jason, Ryker, and Jacob. I asked Lucas what he had

For my at home movie I watched Hang em’ High directed by Ted Post. It is considered a spaghetti western that was made in America. In comparison to the film we watched in class, High Noon directed by Fred Zinnemann. These two westerns had many similarities and differences. From differences in how the movie was actually shot, to the similarity of how both of the main characters are loners, these two movies connect all over on many different levels.

The Odyssey is an epic composed by Homer, an early Greek storyteller. This epic was the basis for Greek and Roman education. Epics are long poems marked by adventure. The main character in an epic is an epic hero.

You shoot up from your warm bed. You rub the sleep from your eyes and glance at the clock, which strikes 6:10. It seems as though your heart skips a beat. The cozy blankets try to keep you enthralled in their warm grasp as you jump from their reach. The bus to Buffalo leaves in twenty minutes and you should’ve woken up an hour ago. You frantically toss on your oversized sweatshirt and leggings and race to the kitchen, in hope that you have time to sneak a quick bite to eat. As you run in, you see that your mother has made you two slices of toast, crisp and crunchy, spread with a thick layer of creamy, melted butter. While running around the house, munching on the perfectly toasted bread, you quick grab your swimsuit and bag, which

A warm bead of sweat rolled down my brow in such a slow manner I thought that I had received a cut on my head and I was bleeding from whacking my head on the door panel when I exited out of the cruiser. I wiped it away as I leaned back against the hood of the car, sweating up a storm in the white polo that was supposed to be a uniform.

The cold water from condensation went through my glove as I wiped the seat. I thought to myself, “What a stupid choice. My gloves are now wet and I have a ten-minute ride home so they will likely freeze“. Then the warmth of the sun hit me. The clouds had cleared and offered up from behind the wall which it had been hidden, my favorite object−the sun! I had not seen it for almost two weeks and to feel the warmth on the back of my neck was a much needed mental boost. The wonderful heat, cut like a hot knife through butter, and helped the humidy level go

In "The Story of an Hour," I can relate to so many different things that go on in this short tragic story. After reading the story I almost felt like Louise Mallard and I were living the same life with different events and a different outcome. Everything about the two of us comes down to being always misunderstood and just wanting to be free.

My reticuloendothelial system defends me too diligently. We are one of those riding out the biological purification process, our bodies feel that feel more like superheated tin men that’s freezing all at once. If I were to light up my wrenched joints, the constellation of stars and lights would glow on the map, lit up to follow whirling storm fronts . A friend and I trade texts: My fan’s on full blast—I’m not warm enough, I have now wrapped myself in my bed sheet. You?

Once we arrived, you could feel the humidity. It was like someone was pressing upon your chest and sweat dripping down from your face. As we were all exhausted from the long drive, we needed to head to bed for a

I woke up before the sun did. Sitting up in my bed, I sat motionless for a moment as the dim light of early dawn began to illuminate my room. Finally, I got up, heading over to the sink to get myself a glass of water. After extinguishing my thirst, I took a quick glance out my window, seeing the sun barely showing itself just beyond. It was about time to get ready for work. I grabbed my toolbox and loaded it with a small granola bar and a bottle with a bit of whiskey still left inside. I grabbed my light-gray collared shirt, my overalls, and a pair of ruffled pants. I picked up my black shoes and grabbed my hat off the coat hanger at the door. I turned the doorknob of my room and stepped into the hallway, locking the door behind me. As I headed

By the time I make it home, I am sweating bullets from the hot summer sun. I walk into my cool, air conditioned home with a sigh of relief finally being out of the scorching sun.

Monday morning has arrived and is at full volume announcing itself as the alarm clock is screaming from the nightstand. With little sleep and a stomach full of nerves I climb out of bed slapping the noise into silence, and rub my eyes. The blank spaces on the wall remind me where my degrees used to hang. Aright Anne, wake up. In hopes of calming my nervous stomach I make my way into the kitchen for something subtle; coffee and a bagel. Watching the morning news I sneer; it will be a hot and humid day. After having breakfast, I check the clock and jump into the shower struggling to wake. Today will be hot so I decide on something lightweight. Stop being so nervous I tell myself again as I pull the towel from my wet hair and gaze into the mirror. I need a good concealer today as my blue eyes appear tired. I comb through my long blonde hair and blow-dry it. As I wrap my hair into a hair clip I make my way to the closet. Choosing my light pink dress shirt, dark-gray trousers and black strappy heels I stand staring into the mirror. Time for makeup as I remind myself not too much I need to keep it professional. I choose a set of earrings and my favorite ring with a matching bracelet. A final check in the mirror and I’m done. Spinning with nervous thoughts; I try to remember who my first patient is this morning, and I realize I have forgotten the name. My subconscious screams way to go! How

Mai was the last to arrive; she always was, putting off leaving the lonely chill of her own small apartment at the heart of the city to the very last minute. She flashed an apologetic smile to the group as she flipped the kitchen chair around and slid into her seat, her arms folded against the backrest, her chin resting on her hands. It was strange, seeing the team in such an informal setting. Surreal in a way that made her heart thud rapidly against her chest, and her stomach twist uncomfortably. Here in Robin’s cabin it was less like they were strangers fighting for the same battle. It was almost domestic, with the siblings curled together on the couch, and Wendy draped easily in the overstuffed chair, like they were an actual team.

"The Longest Day" was a mammoth project dramatizing D-day, the Allied invasion of France. It was nearly three hours in length and with an enormous ensemble cast, all playing supporting roles. The production was very conscientious about realism, the actors were always of the same nationality as their characters, and spoke in their native languages, leading to a lot of subtitles translating French and German dialogue. Although the movie was historically correct, it was also meant to be a blockbuster by starring John Wane, Robert Mitchum, Sean Connery and Henry Fonda. But The American role in the invasion is not exaggerated, and the German soldiers and officers are not portrayed as brutal stereotypes.