Short Story Essay

A man that goes by the name Eric Patterson was reading a newspaper; he saw something that caught his eye in a newspaper ad. The newspaper ad talked about a deserted farmhouse that belonged to a deceased woman that was rich. The house was very valuable and was being auctioned at very high prices. Patterson didn’t want buy the house because he knew he didn’t have anything close to how much it was worth. Some of the things that the house would come with were a garden path and a lot of jewelry. The most

ran from the cold into the kitchen through the back porch. I was met with a ginormous hug and excitement that matched my own “Happy early birthday dude!” She yelled. I chuckled and turned towards the basement. No object or person there didn't have a story,begging to be told.The lights twinkled and the colors popped, it was a place of magic that no words could do justice.. I breathed in the comforting smell of burning incense, and eyed the liquor on the desk.As she locked the door behind us I felt a

Lair of the Dragon Watching the landscape whisk by, 60 mile per hour, Emilia wasn’t happy; no, she was irate. She didn’t see how moving to Middle of Nowhere, Oregon, is going to help anything. Didn’t her parents see they were tearing her away from everything she cared for? Her friends, her favorite stores, even some of her things (they’d had to downsize to be able to fit into the new house) - they weren’t even going to have internet out there! Yet, she had no say in the matter; she could only hold

Throughout the whole operation, Karkat cringed. There was blood everywhere. On his prongs, on his nutrition block, on the disposable towelettes, and if Crabdad hadn't come to check on him, Karkat was sure that half of his body weight would be lying in a puddle on the floorspace - chunks of digested grubloaf mingling with the acrid scent of acid, vegetation, and the most balanced regurgitation wouldn't hold a candle to that masterpiece. His lusus had quickly scrambled for some water, fought with his

"Bud-Not-Buddy", if written in the modern era, would have been such a different story to read. If "Bud-Not-Buddy" was written in our time the story would have transformed. This story took place in the Great Depression. Things have changed since then, therefore it would be different if in our time. Bud is a little boy whom's mom dies, but if the story took place in the modern era she could have been saved. Bud was also thinking about shooting an Amos, if he did in our time he'd be in big trouble

Chapter Twenty-one “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse” “Heres the deal,” The griffon spoke, as she lit the cigarette dangling out of her beak, “I sent seven of my talons to the trading post down near Pinkie World; I haven’t heard back from them.” She paused, as she exhaled a ring of smoke, “I need someone to go there, figure out what the situation is, then come back. Simple.” Chip nodded, then Moira glanced towards me. “I want her to stay here,” she said, pointing a talon in my

“This is all clear to us,” his father said in a sharp tone of voice. “I had never thought you capable of this disobedience. The very same night I had asked you, order you, to stop wandering outside Zanhi.” The tone of his voice grew cooler. Nur set her eyes on the table and Theo was restless in his seat. “From now on you won’t do anything without my permission. You will work with me until you learn to be responsible.” Tarkan stood up, he walked to the doorway, and gave a sign to his son so that

“Miss Fern, can you state your full name and date of birth for the records, please?” The black-haired detective in front of the nervous seventeen-year-old asked, nodding to the camera standing on a tripod behind him. The small red light indicating that they were being recorded gave the teen the desire to stand up and leave or scream for it to all go away. She didn’t want to be there; didn’t want to deal with any of it. She wanted to go home with her mother, curl up on the couch, and forget about

“Did you hear that?” Wynonna shoved Dolls back, “Get away from me, stay away-” “Wy-non-na…” The voice sing-songed, from her worst nightmares, but no one else stood in the cold with them. “Earp, what is that?” Dolls reached for her, trying to calm her visible panic, but she stepped back, away from him. “Wynonna Earp,” The voice echoed, a register too dark, and too familiar for Wynonna. “You don’t recognize your old friend, Bobo?” In a flash, Bobo del Rey materialized between

Quietly reaching up, sliding one hand against the sleek stone, his dry, cracked lips tremble muttering quietly, ‘Oh my God, oh my God!’ Faintly heard screams of agony echo in the background, an insane ungodly laughter echoes louder, paralysis spreads immediately through his bones! A ghostly brusque comment followed, ‘Oh my God, oh my God, common reaction!’ The famous Beethoven’s Moonlight sonata began to play! Yelling out, Abram sits upright, ‘Who are you, where am I?’ The haunting voice replied