Boy in da Corner

A Temporary Matter Husband and wife Shukumar and Shoba are notified that their electricity will be turned off at 8:00PM for five evenings in a row in order to fix a power line. Shoba tells her husband this news. He looks at her, noticing that her makeup has run from her time at the gym. He reminisces about how she would look in the morning after a party in happier times. Shoba insists that the electric company should work on the lines during the day. Shukumar takes slight offense at this idea; since

This contribution of his was an alternate manner in which to view or perceive reality. It was no new concept; it could be traced back to Leonardo da Vinci and his practice of staring at stains on walls, clouds, streams, etc. and seeing different figures in them. Everyone who goes cloud watching uses this technique. Dali, however gave this method a different twist. Dali linked his paranoiac-critical

The sun’s ebullient flares twisted to the ground, reflecting on the Michigan lake. A gentle breeze ruffled through the grass, catching dandelions and releasing them to the sky The sun was shyly peeking out from behind the mountain and painting the sky brilliant splotches of orange and pink. The leaves fluttering in the air greeted the clouds. A gaping opening in the mountains led to a small town, leading to a small house neatly tucked away beneath a Sequoia tree. The houses bricks were painted a

roof. Who stole all his money? By that time, he figured out who framed him up by planting the bomb in the boot of his car. And that same person must have taken his money from the cave. None other than the indomitable Lord Nicholas Fox. That la-di-da piece of shite. And now he was after revenge. So, he parked the stolen car just off a woodland track then trudged his way along Copse Lane. His anger drove him forwards through the wind.

formed at the corner of her lips and eyes! She smiled as though her skin was getting stretched to the hilt. It was hideous and I cringed. “I’m Katherine!” “Hello, Katherine,” I said, not bothering to hide my anger at her brazen display of animal cruelty. “How can I help you?” “Well, I’m looking for a bra. Not too fancy, yet beautiful,” she said. “Well, Katherine, why don’t you follow me and take a look around.” Katherine smiled and followed my lead. I took her to a little expensive corner of the lingerie

contain myself anymore. I had been waiting for 25 days, and it was finally here! Today was Christmas, a day filled with lots of food and mountains of presents! I ran downstairs as fast as I could, almost fell because I about tripped. I rounded the corner and stood in awe. There before me, stood present after present after present; each one wrapped in a different color, ranging in size, and bows mounted on top. There must be close to 60 presents! Well, when you are rich, you can afford this. I dove

like her! First day of school was right around the corner and as I was getting ready for it questions kept circulating in my mind. What would my friends think? I was the only one with glasses. How would I play sports with glasses? Would I still get invited to birthday parties? Will boys like me? Some of my friends thought my glasses were cool, but deep inside I knew they were just trying to make me feel good. I still got invited to the parties, but boys did not like me. But all of that did not bother

“It keeps growing... spreading like cancer… human excrement clogged the open sewers…a large hole in the far corner served as a toilet…The children ate with their fingers… desperate criminals hid out there...long lines waited at the sole water spigot...others waited at the only toilet in the entire mountainside...throughout the place came wailing of hunger and hurt…” poverty is everything but a laughing matter (Parks). Photograph and writer, Gordon Parks, in his essay, “Flavio’s Home” reveals the

Italy can be looked at as the home of the renaissance and consequently the immergence of great art. Artists such as Michelangelo, Botticelli, Da Vinci, and Raphael are some of the greats and are looked at for standards. But what about the artists whose lives are mysteries, and their works that were influenced by the greats? These artists hold just as much importance in the history of art as do the artist’s whose names can be recalled off the top of an average person’s head. During the sixteenth century

‘Hang 'im from the yardarm,’ yelled Captain Goatsbeard. The bosun slashed his cutlass through the air. ‘Not ‘afore ‘e tells us where ‘e buried the treasure.’ ‘Arrrr…we ‘aint got time furr that. Take ‘im to the poop deck ‘n throw ‘im o’er the side. The sharks can feed on ‘im!’ Rat-a-tat-tat! Doctor Melilot took his nose from the book he was reading. The adventure had taken a firm grip on his mind, and it was a shock when he heard a knock at his study door. For a moment, he forgot where he was. He