Timacles: A Narrative Fiction

The majestic creatures then dive in one swoop through the frigid waters to catch a meal. The fish struggles in its beak, gasp for air and then if swallowed in a gulp. They return to their throne perched in a tree, or squatting upon the cliffs waiting for another opportunity to commit murder. The fish glide through the salty water with an urgent rush. There scales shimmer in the rays, peaking through the tide. Crabs scurry across the sea floor and burrow themselves in the dust of the sand which masks them in the light powder. Starfish grip on to the rocky cliffs and give a glow of pinky peach

The coat of armor I adorned, made of down feathers and a nylon shell, yielded no protection against the daggers of that cold winter air. As I peered out toward the horizon, I saw nothing but tree tops, and some snow capped mountain tops in the distance. With my feet bound to freshly waxed skis, the only thing stronger than my ski poles was my determination to get down the mountain.

Since the days of mythological origin to the origin of pop culture, various mythological stories have been adopted and presented to newer generations. Some of these presented adaptations of mythological stories have significantly been modified in order to be deemed entertaining by audiences in a pop culture generation. Thus, my study will seek to compare mythological hero's during their time to how they have been depicted in modern day. Moreover, my study will analyze the similarities and differences between the Greek hero Heracles and his replica character, Hercules, depicted in Disney's adaptation of this myth. Although there are few similarities between the two versions, the differences between Heracles and Disney's Hercules are

Still dripping as she exited, the water beads steamed and hissed as she strode out. Dry and soft by the time she reached the armor, she had never worn any before. But it was as second nature, buckling and locking the segments into place, the leather trimmed inside with a soft fabric she did not recognize.

I took my suit jacket off and hastily shoved it into my backpack. I smiled as the air hit my body and started to dry the sweat that had gathered from wearing the suit jacket for three hours. Looking outside I saw what I expected. The grey lifeless clouds of the English winter hung over us and the almost freezing temperatures,

She was all alone- her coat soaked to the pelt- causing it to lie flat against her, freezing her to the core. Unable to get warm or dry, and too scared to venture any further from her herd, the doe stood strong. Her energetic parade had dissipated into a mere stroll, yet the furrows in the earth were getting ever deeper. The doe’s young muscles demanded rest, although her instincts and frozen limbs kept her

A bitter breeze makes its way down the lake until it reaches the shoreline. As I am looking towards Ruby Island I feel an algid whip hit my face, sending shivers through my spine. An astonishment of nippy air gives me goose bumps causing my arm hairs to stick up like soldiers ready to scuffle away the bitterness. I saunter towards the end of the wharf , clinching my fists tightly in my pockets to keep the coolness of the air from touching my fingers. With every step I take, I can feel my feet sliding beneath me from the metal wiring that covers the hard wooden surface.Being very cautious trying not slip into the ferocious wavy water I take a peek at what is beneath. The waves no longer look inviting like were six months ago. Instead, they look sharp and snappy enough to freeze a soul. As I am scanning the rugged surface of the lake, something catches my eye.

Grey, the sea stretched for acres. Beneath the oceans topography, shoals of fish swam through and around the ship wrecks in a frenzied motion. Here, all stood still. Only slightly did my rowing boat rock, creaking in the tide. We rolled to and fro slightly; the seaweed twisted and writhed beneath the hull. Like a snake, it squirmed away, coming to rest only after we had passed. The oars made long, slow and deliberate wakes through the lagoon. I stopped sculling; the boat glided silently towards the stony, promontory beach. We had landed.

At first glance it seems that Hercules and “Heraclês” are about the same. There is a lot that is similar, but there is also a lot that is different. A lot of what was changed was because of cultural values of the times that the two were made. A few cultural value changes include heroism, love, and family.

It is funny that you ask this assignment, because just 3 days ago, I was out for a lunch down by the lake with a few friends. There were all discussing their successes t a charms lesson, and I had done very poorly and didn’t want to be included. I began walking along the lake side and saw an interesting creature floating along. It was a merman and he didn’t look happy.

When Deborah wakes up, still in the cold pack, her legs and feet ached and her heels

Aileana reached to hold on around mah neck, and she wrapped her legs around mah torso. It felt wonderful and strange at the same time. I had never had any human on mah back while in my Selkie form. I started to glide forward and propelled mah large hind flippers. Aileana had latched on to mah like a starfish clings to a rock. I let her get used to swimming on top of the water and then we took a few short dives to see how she likes it. I was able to catch her making happy sounds underwater and decided to dive a little deeper. I didn’t stay under more than two minutes to see how Aileana adjusted. I headed back to the surface. When we reached the surface, I swiveled mah head around to gauge her reaction. Her smile said it all. She was enjoying this

Lydia awoke in an unfamiliar place. She touched her head but immediately pulled it away when she felt the soft texture of bandages on her forehead. She shivered as a small draft passed over her skin. She looked down and noticed... She was wearing barely anything. She panicked, scrambling to wrap the blanket around her body.

The ocean strokes land with calm and reassuring hands, lacing water with sand and lifting seashells in its wake. My heart urges me forward, to walk among the peace, to capture the sweet smell of sea salt. My brain reasons with the rest of my body. Turning sharply from the churning water I force my feet to leave the warm imprint they have grown to love

Snow was falling again, and John had to get to the grocery store quickly. Trying to cover his face, he walked at a steadfast pace, while simultaneously trying to cover up all of his body in hopes that nothing but garments are burned.