short storys essay

How about, instead, I invite Glenn over and the two of us will watch, then send you a written critique with recommendations for improvement, "Brett grinned as he tweaked Elena's nipple, his enjoyment of her reaction to that paling in comparison to the squeal she emitted when her panties landed on his neighbour's doorstep. He shrugged when she glanced back, "To apologise for all that noise you made last night." After they'd entered his apartment and he'd stopped on his way to the kitchen to pirouette

All around them men shouted with glee or frustration, depending who they’d been backing to win the race. Yiannis had been shocked to see how many had turned out to watch. When Fungy had roused him from his bed, where he’d been putting the finishing touches on one of the sketches he’d made the other day, he’d been curious. First, he could hardly believe his friend was up—he hadn’t taken Fungy for an early riser. And secondly, that he’d only gotten up to watch his sister-in-law ride in a race was beyond

He walked over to a large arched gate at the far end of the room. On the other side of the gate was...nothing. A pitch-black void. 'And this is the Chalkpit.’ It always filled him with awe, no matter how many times he saw it. Carved into the gate were hundreds of animals made from wood. Birds, cats, dogs and other little creatures. Mosaic followed him as he walked closer. The animals came to life. The robin on the bough sang his heart out. The tawny fox scratched itself then sniffed the air. He watched

Beckett entered the interrogation room, folder in hand, ready to wrap up her case. They had enough evidence to convict Rebecca Brynn, but in order to wipe out any reasonable doubt, they needed to find what motivated her to murder Amy Dehner, and they had to make sure that Brynn didn’t have an alibi. If Beckett could get her to confess, they could all go home early. Sitting down across from the woman, Beckett studied Rebecca Brynn. She seemed calm, but she gave herself away with the quiet tap of her

a truck puller known as dynamite dave came up to the sled to pull. No one could have guessed what was going to happen that tragic night but like all surprises this one was a real shock. This is the story of the night Dave Weiss died doing what he loved to do. I will tell you now that this isn’t a story of how he died in a big crash, boom, or bang with guns blazing this is simple and just sad to hear for some. I first met Dave at a pull in Cold Water, I was walking with my dad as he teched the pullers

getting attacked by a crocodile, staying on the path is crucial. In “Being Prey” and “A Sound of Thunder” the protagonists, the setting, and the theme all changed the outcome of the story. I will compare and contrast all of these literary elements to prove why you should stay on the path. The settings of both stories were very dangerous. “The Sound of Thunder” is in a prehistoric time with dinosaurs, “That – Mr. Travis pointed – is the jungle of sixty million, two thousand, fifty five years before

Melinda is at Ground Zero. She has returned to where it ended, and where it all began, her own personal alpha and omega. The barren patch of dirt in the woods where she lost her innocence, the tree where she was raped. It seems like a normal enough spot, but in actuality, it could never be the same again. In some subtle way, the sight of the mighty oak in her front yard being reduced to a mere thrunk, it made her think of another tree. Melinda inadvertently peddles to the tree. Knowing in the

Route 64 Our friends Teagan and Jimmy were firm believers in ghosts and claimed to have seen the mysterious blonde-haired ghost that haunted Route 64. My brother and I were sitting with them at dinner one night, and we started kidding them about it. “Funny how we’ve never seen him, and we drive that stretch of road all the time,” my brother Jim drawled.“You skeptic,” Teagan said, emphasizing the word as if it were a curse. “One of these days, you’re gonna find out I’m right.” The evening ended pleasantly

The first time Artemis had met Marshall Garett it had been his voice that had struck her. If every other voice she had ever come across until that moment was the burning taste of the cheap liquor that sat in her stomach, his was the smoothest, richest brew. It was enough to make even her stubborn ass listen and follow, even back in those early days, where she had gone from being one fighter pilot with only her craft and the comms, to a fully fledged ranger, with the entirety of LOCCENT in her ears

An unnamed surveyor from Boston, telling the story in the first-person perspective, attempts to uncover the secrets behind a shunned place referred to by the locals of Arkham as the "blasted heath.” Unable to garner any information from the townspeople, the protagonist seeks out an old and allegedly crazy man by the name of Ammi Pierce, who relates his personal experiences with a farmer who used to live on the cursed property, Nahum Gardner. Pierce claims that the troubles began when a meteorite