The Smell Of Murder In Vic Allen's The Glass Menagerie

She absorbed her surroundings as she watched the trees rush by. She saw a large buck grazing on a patch of grass and giggled at the tiny chipmunks that seemed to be everywhere. She’d even saw a bear and thought it a little unusual for this time of year, but it was not uncommon. She pumped her legs and extended her stride. Her lungs expanded as they filled with air, her breath quickened as she waited for her second wind.

A home health nurse knows that a 70-year-old male client who is convalescing at home following a hip replacement, is at risk for developing decubitus ulcers. Which physical characteristic of aging contributes to such a risk?

It was a short drive to the hotel, and the scenery was pretty cool, but I was really waiting for arrival time. I couldn't wait to see the hotel, and I had no clue what to expect. I eyes drifted out the window at all the tall trees on the hilly landscape. The trees filled the hill, and there was on sight of the forest floor. Birds of all sizes flew in and out of the forest, keeping a person looking at them and their home forever. But then the landscape began to change.

Lush red and orange leaves touched by morning dew fill the limbs of an old Oak tree, rustling as the wind slowly made her way by, teasing the edges of the leaves and tempting them to come with her. The weaker ones went, not realizing their fate, twirling in her presence, following as far as they could manage in the air, encased in feelings of happiness and freedom. Soon, however, the wind died down; causing the leaves to drop and crumble onto the ground. They couldn't express their feelings of remorse so they crumbled in on themselves, shutting out the wind. She came back at times, and some fell for it, the ones that hadn't learned their lesson, they followed her again. Each that did, were ripped to pieces. The tree, in the end, had been robbed.

The day was gloomier than I thought it would be. The air was humid as if it had just rained for days and you could feel the thickness in it. Past the trees of the nearby woods, thick, and gray fog lined the ground,

The indication of morning had approached; wind halted while the air became temperate. Morning routine of the birds, fetching food for their children, communicating with the others, hatching their eggs. Newly seeded grass shooted out, growing like weeds. The air reminded Mary of a camping trip when she was younger in Yosemite Park. Pinecones and trees gave her the happy memories, ones of her husband and her only child before the accident.

She took a quick look around the last turn before the main street that led to the school. She noticed several boys and girls in the alleyways on both sides of the narrow street. It looked as if every class at her school, several young ladies and even her teacher waited for her in ambush. She ducked back before they could see her, hiked up her dress, and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her in the opposite direction of the angry mob. She didn’t stop until she had found the forest path that she needed and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard no one in pursuit. The forest surroundings felt different for some reason and it frightened her. It had a forbidding feel to it this dawn like she had never felt in the past.

Stella glided through the masquerade ball like she wasn't even touching the floor. It had been a rough day at work today and she just needed to get the stress out. As soon as she had come home to the house she shared with her twin sister, Luna, Stella had thrown herself down on the couch and refused to do anything. Luna, on the other hand, had different plans. She had found an open, free admission masquerade ball in a close by town and she declared they just had to go. It was the perfect place for a few mysterious murders.

While her hands strained, she thought about how the love of her life met. It was a cold, Fall day and leaves started to fall off the trees. Colors of brown, yellow, and orange covered the streets where an old Inn sat.

The canvas was huge and intriguing. Her teacher blocked the middle of the whole forest and seemed to be painting the final details for when she finally stepped back a fiery sun illuminated the silhouette of a child and its mother basking in the light that seemed to signify a tomorrow. It was captivating, although the darkness of the forest seemed to outweigh the light of the sun the possibility of reaching a better tomorrow was overwhelming that it touched her

Scouting has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I joined in the First grade as a tiger cub and I was super excited. I remember getting my uniform and wanting to wear it everywhere. I was so excited to be a part of it. I have grown up through scouting and can’t picture my life without it. It has shaped me into the man I am today. I am currently working on my Eagle Scout. I want to continue helping the troop even after I finish. I will be involved in scouting for the rest of my life.

Michelangelo’s creative process was certainly one of a kind and was very tedious. He would spend countless hours on his work, some taking mutable years to complete. For example, the work titled The Creation of Adam which was a fresco designed by Michelangelo was all done by freehanded and drawn on before anything such as the plaster was ever put up. When he was commissioned to do the Sistine Chapel’s Ceiling it took him at least 4 years to finish the job. Everything had to be dawn on and then plastered. When he was going back to paint and plaster the ceiling he had to be directly underneath the ceiling while everything was falling down onto his face, as you can imagine it was a very tedious/messy process. He was perceived as a genius, his

They stopped at an oak tree, delighted, puzzled, apprehensive. Winter and his children shivered at the front gate, silhouetted against a blazing house… Summer and he watched his children's heart break. Autumn again, and

I enjoy the changes in nature during the fall. The auburn, crimson, and golden leaves intermingle as they slowly flutter to the ground. They litter the landscape like confetti after a parade. Animals begin to prepare for winter by storing nuts, growing their thick winter coats, and migrating to a warmer climate. The sun’s rays warm my skin enough for me to yearn to be outside and a crisp breeze blows through my hair; the cool air feels fresh after the humid stickiness of summer, and I feel

The sunless sky covered the woods over the treetops which created a canopy over my head. The crimson and auburn foliage was a magnificent sight, as this was the season known as Fall. There was a gentle breeze, creating the single sound of rustling leaves. The leaves appeared as though they were dying to fall out of the tree and join their companions on the forest floor. Together with pine needles and other flora the leaves formed a thick springy carpet for me to walk upon.