Two Kingdoms: A Short Story Essay

When I heard Jessica crying and saw the dog looking into my face I told him “Georgie go see why Jessica is crying”. Next thing I knew he went off running and she was quiet so I went to check on her and there they were in the bed sleeping, he comfort her. Even though a snow storm was coming, she decided to go on her winter camping trip anyway. It was like something was calling her out there. But in the event of her wilderness trip she was starting to feel better. There was a positivity her in her life that was growing and the depression had started to fade by the activities she is doing. Her experience of sleeping in below freezing caves, digging out of a snow barricades with the help of Jackson and Hailey. She was doing things her and her dogs would never have dreamed of. She admits that her very cold and freezing adventure has helped her appreciate the beauty of life and her winter wilderness experience. She was starting to feel like she belong and was appreciating the value of her life and her surroundings. “A Blizzard under blue sky” gave her a new lease on life and a spark of rejuvenation.

“Let It Snow” by David Sedaris is a short story that magnifies the extent to which children might go in order to grab the attention of their parents. It is full imaginative details that would help the reader understand what it feels like to be a child. Sedaris starts with these imaginative details from the beginning of the story to the end and this keeps the interest of the reader. After the reader begins to read he/she might get the assumption that the story will be about a snow day, but it focuses on the hurt and neglect in which Sedaris and his siblings experience from their drunken mother and absent father. After being kicked out into the cold by their mother, the children are left to think about their relationship with their parents while battling a cold weather. The writer begins to express his feelings towards his parents, particularly his mother, by providing various details that keep the reader emotionally invested in the story.

As the frost crept up my window, each snowflake was perfectly plastered in front of me. They seemed as if they were putting on a show just for me, and I couldn’t help but imagine that there were tiny people living in each one. The soft hum of my mother’s CD’s played in the background as my little brother was fast asleep to my right. I brushed my fingers through my dolls knotted hair, feeling the itchy yarn envelope each finger. Looking out the window again all I saw were cars speeding past us, all rushing to get to their own winter plans.

“Found what? What did you find, Charles?” asked Charity, turning to look in his direction. She was curious as to what had him so excited. He was surrounded by his brothers and sisters, each trying to scrooch closer to him, to get a better look at what he held.

The boy was about to retreat to his shoddy nest behind the dumpster, but one of the people making their way down the sidewalk caught his attention. This particular person couldn’t have been any older than he was. Additionally, in stark contrast to those around him, his gaze wandered and the smile on his face had a more trance-like quality, as though he were enamored by the snow whirling around him.

The narrator forcing his way through the “frost” and to the “light” that was not only always lit on her “porch” but the warmth the girl was symbolizing as well. Soon they were both “Breathing

He can’t believe what his mother has done just to break them apart. Alexander assures Leona that everything will be

Characterized as a lively boy, Alexander most commonly played soldiers with his friends, Alex being the “commander” and his friends the “Troops”. “No matter how much he asked of them, he invariably asked twice as much from himself” (Wise 15). The boys themselves “Instinctively admired his enthusiasm, his imagination and his fearlessness and were willing to obey his commands and to undertake whatever strenuous adventures he planned for them” (Wise 15). His teacher at the time said, “ It seemed impossible to believe that a mere six-year-old boy could possess such an active and mature mind.” (Wise 13). The age of twelve,when his mother ended up dying, his brother James was six. Attaining a job at eleven, Alex learned how to support his family; contradictory to this, the separation from his brother a few years later occurred when his

The great comparison, somewhat of a conceit, only serves to show the complete infatuation of young love. The girl warms the boy, brightens his day, and thus she is his sun. But the contrast between the bleary winter day and the light the girl represents serves as commentary of how love lights up our bleak world. Young love is what transforms this poem from a mere retelling of a winter day to a retelling of a fond memory of a girl. Love is what brightens the world, what transforms it from a cold and lonely winter day into a beautiful story, and the innocence of young love opens ones eyes to the innocence of love in the face of the cruelty of the world. Love is an infatuation, a prize, an experience, and it keeps us warm even on the coldest of days. Love warms us in the way a winter jacket could not, and it makes us feel as if we have a fire, not in our hands like the speaker, but in our

“Holy Shit. It wasn’t a dream.” The words came out as a whisper, even though they screamed through her head.

The cold winter breeze hit her skin as she stepped out of the warm truck, ordinarily, she immediately wrapped her arms around the black coat attempting to keep her warm, as she was freezing from the sudden temperature change from the truck into the chilly air. Looking back to the sled being drawn out of the back of the truck, then she turned around and her eyes landed on the Rocke’s house, their close family friends. Gazing briefly at her parents one last time, ran to the door of the house, ready to get out of the cold momentarily.

Often she had not. ‘Why does it matter? What could love count for in face of this possession of self-assertion which she suddenly recognised as the strongest impulse of her being?'

She was eight years old, and it barely began getting crispy outside. Winter was right around the corner. She loved winter, the cold weather always made her all lubricous. Her favorite part of winter was eating cold food and wrapping herself around him while he was cold. She always thought cold items and food were the best in cold weather and having the air in front of her while it was cold just made it so fun. Unfortunately she wasn’t enjoying this upcoming winter without him.

I watched Emily run through the rain like it was the best thing that ever happened to her. She loved it. I however did not. Coming to get me I guessed as I heard her bound up the stairs. ¨I know you hate the rain hollie but you should come out.” She said. I was nine at the time and afraid of a lot of things. ¨No! I don't like the rain and I never will.” She then proceeded to pull me over her shoulders and carry me outside into the storm. Within a minute my flaming red curly hair was dark maroon wet and straight. ¨How do you know you won't like it if you won't even step of the steps when it does.¨ I cautiously stepped of the stem into the dirt at the bottom of the stone steps and felt the mud squish between my toes. It felt funny but I like it. I smelt the rain and looked around at the wet grass with the water on it. It was alluring. But before I could touch it I felt coldness all around me and looked up to see my sister with a bucket. We played outside for what felt like hours till Father came to get us. Then I loved the rain and every storm no matter what time it was my sister and I would go outside and play in the

It was an icy winter this year in the Bronx, and we all knew the weather wouldn’t let up for at least another few months. My hands and nose were already red, bitter from the cold as I wandered through the frosty morning air. White snow had fallen that previous night and was now turning to thick ice making it quite a struggle for me to maneuver my way through the loopy unheated streets and sidewalk of the dirty town without falling. My copper face was freezing but I barely noticed, my mind was busy bustling about. It bounced thoughts around each revolving around the same thing, Saki. A young eccentric girl, who I had encountered at a fest, held on Governors Island. As I trampled in the snow, through quiet icy towns, I couldn’t help myself from