...without love. Oh, it was already six o'clock in the evening when I looked at the clock. I felt happy because there was only one hour left until I got off work. It surprised me again when I looked at the calendar - it is the 3rd of June, the day I first met you. This was the most bittersweet day of the year-exactly three years since we first met. I was only a first year student, a little girl who was completely engrossed in parties all around the city. I was a student who barely finished her six hours of lectures like a cat on hot bricks. Only a few thoughts were in my head after school: how to get permission from my parents and what to wear when I go out to the club. It was a warm and busy Friday 3rd of June, 2008. Every bar and street were full of people as I walked down the central street to take a cab to the club where all my friends were. I felt an incredible rush because I love those kinds of days. When I got into the club, all friends and colleagues were there; all were having fun and dancing. After I danced for a while, I went to the restroom to refresh my makeup and took some party pictures with my friends. There were some guys laughing loudly beside me when I was sitting on the coach outside of the restroom to rest a while. Suddenly I noticed that one of those guys was staring at me and he could not even pay attention to his friends’ conversation. My inner instinct immediately told me that he was interested in me! I thought it’s time to go back to my friends. What is...
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...Frank Bassetti It was a warm summer evening as I drove home from work. I was taking in the beautiful Alaskan scenery and thinking of how far that I had come with my life. Feelings of thankfulness ran through my thoughts as I remembered all of the help that I had received during hard times. Those times seemed to be so very long ago, but yet so vivid in my memory. The ability to lift my head up gave me a different perspective on life. It was that much easier to relax and focus while taking in the beauty around me. Driving home that day I can remember that there were a few puffy clouds in the sky that they reminded me of cotton balls. There was a gentle wind off of the Pacific Ocean that carried the smell of a fisherman’s hard day at sea. Along with that breeze came the reminder of winter from the chill that followed. Off in the distance I could see a Subway sign. Instantly, I had a vision of freshly baked, warm, fluffy, honey wheat bread topped with crisp, juicy vegetables and partially heated moist, tender chicken teriyaki. Since my taste buds had been awakened, I had no choice but to pull in and eat. I walked in and right away I noticed that there was a little boy up against the ordering glass. The little guy was rocking from foot to foot in a sideways motion with great enthusiasm. He had on some frayed Wrangler jeans, and a tee-shirt that was too small for his quickly growing body. His oily head of hair was reflecting the incandescent lights above, and his eyes were slightly...
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... I heard an abysmal voice summoning me from my father’s room. It was unrecognisable. His illness had entirely consumed him for now I couldn’t even recognise his voice. I vacillated as I knocked at his door. I felt extreme resentment however forced myself to knock, for the sake of humanity. There was no response other than a small grumble noise for which I entered myself. I entered the room in a confused state for why my father had called on me rather than his ostensible favourite- Heathcliff. I walked up to my dying father and sat next to him as he was breathing in superficial breaths. I put up a façade of concern as I waited for him to talk. His mouth opened and gushes of air thrust themselves out as he began to speak. “Hindley- my son…” His voice had an apparent ‘whenever your mother and I would argue, I would stubbornly leave the house and make my way to my mistress- down in Liverpool. She would always listen to me and wouldn’t shout at me like your mother would do- but as shameful as it sounds- she would fulfil my every wish and demand and after a couple of years I grew very fond of her. When I would go to visit her she instructed me to leave before midnight for that was when her son came home from the carer. One evening your mother found stains on my shirt whilst washing it and asked me to forgive her and for us to start afresh. After that night I started seeing her less and less until eventually I stopped seeing her at all. Many years had passed and one evening long...
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...ARE 345- 601 9 February 2014 Europe- Tasca Brava For this particular region, I chose the restaurant based on a recommendation from my brother. I also have a neighbor who is from Madrid, and Tasca Brava being a authentic Spanish restaurant, I was excited to visit it. I believe you truly experience a restaurant in the evening, which is the time I went. The sun had already set and as you walked into the restaurant the lights were dimmed, with candles lit on each table. Since my brother recommended this restaurant, I suggested he come along with me and give me some pointers. The restaurant looks as if it was converted from a house into a business. We were greeted right as we walked in and seated right at the front of the restaurant. The night we chose, also happened to be First Friday which is held in downtown Raleigh the first Friday of each month, so the restaurant was a little busier than normal. The waitress then gave us the option of sparkling water or tap water. I chose to stick with tap water because that is my preference but I did notice and know from past knowledge that many Europeans drink sparkling or mineral water with their meals. I also noticed a very large wine and beer portion listed on the menu. After we were served our drinks, which my brother and I both just had tap water, the waitress left us to look over the menu and decide on what to order. As I was looking over the menu, I noticed that a lot of the dishes contained seafood. My neighbor, who is from Spain...
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...Araby North Richmond Street, being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers' School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground. The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces. The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back drawing-room. Air, musty from having been long enclosed, hung in all the rooms, and the waste room behind the kitchen was littered with old useless papers. Among these I found a few paper-covered books, the pages of which were curled and damp: The Abbot, by Walter Scott, The Devout Communicant, and The Memoirs of Vidocq. I liked the last best because its leaves were yellow. The wild garden behind the house contained a central apple-tree and a few straggling bushes, under one of which I found the late tenant's rusty bicycle-pump. He had been a very charitable priest; in his will he had left all his money to institutions and the furniture of his house to his sister. When the short days of winter came, dusk fell before we had well eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street. The career of our play...
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...Mr. Boddy’s Murder It was early evening on Friday the 13th 1971 when I got the call. It was Mr. Boddy and he was inviting me to his 30th birthday party at his mansion. I have had a grudge against Mr. Boddy for the past couple of years because he got away with murdering my dog and stealing my car, so I saw this as the perfect opportunity to get him back. When it was almost time for the party I put on my shoes, threw on my jacket, grabbed my pistol, and jumped in my car. When I got into my car, I hid the pistol so no one would know that I had a weapon. After hiding the pistol in a safe place, I drove off and headed to Mr. Boddy’s mansion. When I pulled up to the haunted and scary looking mansion there was someone who was standing...
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...despair as I calmly approached to meet her acquaintance. Her caseworker, Anna, sitting by her side, attempting to reassure her safety and provide comfort makes the introduction. “This is Maria, you’re new caregiver, She will be staying with you tonight” she says to Helen as she writes it down on a pad of paper. “Oh Thank God, Oh Thank God” Helen responds. Helen relaxed her body with and sighed with relief. Dawn the current caregiver; an average height, blond, blue eyed middle aged woman had an attitude about her. She appeared to be anxious, impatient, aggressive and fed up with Helen. Dawn has had no previous experience with care giving and had taken this position on to support her family at home. Spending all days and nights with Helen for the past three months seemed to be taking a toll on her mental and physical abilities. Seeing that Helen was wrestles, afraid and paranoid, I reassured her safety. “No need to worry Helen, I will not leave your side”. I will make sure you are safe from now on and all your needs are met”. Helen looks back at me and smiles with a sense of comfort. “Thank you very much for bringing me an angel to look after me” she says to Anna. Reassures Helen that everything will be fine and leaves the apartment. It is Friday late evening, and as I sit next to Helen holding her hand, Dawn continuously approaches to speak with me. In a loud angered voice and with animated hand gestures Dawn says, “She is a schizophrenic! She’s Crazy!” I asked her...
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...else in the world. I could feel all the energy in the air listening the sound of the music in the background. I had this feeling that everyone is living in the moment. Music Midtown is one of Atlanta’s largest music festivals. The memory is stored away in a cabinet of my mind, right on the top shelf. It all began when I was driving on my way to see my boyfriend, Tyler. We had been dating for about 2 years and his birthday was coming up soon. While listening to the radio I heard an ad for Music Midtown. Even though I live relatively close to Atlanta, I had never heard of Music Midtown before. As soon as I got home I began doing my research. Looking at the website, I was sure this was it. I knew not only would he enjoy it, I would as well. I could already picture how perfect those two days we’re going to be. Two days of every genre under the sun, a trip into the city, and a chance to really bring us closer. I ordered the tickets for around $250 and that was that. In September we we’re going to be there. After picking up the tickets, I anxiously drove straight to Tyler’s house. I walked in to the house with a smile that stretched across my face and he immediately got excited. I handed him an envelope and I will never forget the look of excitement on his face. The countdown to Music Midtown had begun. It was September 20 and after a sleepless night, I patiently waited for Tyler to come pick me up so we could be on our way. Our first stop for our day was at one of our good friend’s...
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...Sionil I always knew that someday after I finished high school, I’d go to Manila and to college. I had looked ahead to the grand adventure with eagerness but when it finally came; my leaving Rosales filled me with a nameless dread and a great, swelling unhappiness that clogged my chest. I couldn’t be sure now. Maybe it was friendship, huge and granite-like, or just plain sympathy. I couldn’t be sure anymore; maybe I really fell in love when I was sixteen. Her name was Teresita. She was a proud, stubborn girl with many fixed ideas and she even admonished me: “Just because you gave will be accepted.” It was until after sometime that I understood what she meant and when she did, I honored her all the more. She was sixteen, too, lovely like the banana when it’s bloom. I did not expect her to be angry with me when I bought her a dress for it wasn’t really expensive. Besides, as the daughter of one of Father’s tenants, she knew me very well, better perhaps than any of the people who lived in Carmay, the young folks who always greeted me politely, doffed their straw hats then, close-mouthed, and went their way. I always had silver coins in my pockets but that March afternoon, after counting all of them and the stray pieces, too that I had tucked away in my dresser I knew I needed more. I approach Father. He was at his working table, writing on a ledger while behind him, one of the new servants stood erect, swinging a palm leaf fan over Father’s head. I stood beside...
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...where I worked at and the temperatures were below freezing. There was a blizzard the night before and the streets hadn’t been plowed yet. I had worked the night shift the day before and unfortunately opened the store this morning because I was covering for another employee who had called in sick. Coffee, donuts and the freezing weather were the only things that kept me awake because I had not been able to get enough sleep. We were not busy so I went outside for a smoke. A couple minutes passed by and I noticed a car pulling into the parking lot and it sound like there was something wrong with it, it was making an unusual grinding and squealing noise. It sounded as if the belt was rubbing against some metal part or the pulley bearing had gone bad. As he got out of the car and was walking towards the store I put my cigarette out and threw it in the overflowing cigarette disposal. The man was in a very nice suit and was clean shaved with his hair slicked back but looked tired and seemed like he had been on the road for a while. He proceeded to walk in the store; I walked in with him and asked if he needed any help. He told me that he was from out of town and was trying to get to his daughters house but the car kept making the squealing noise and he was worried if there was something major wrong with the car and if he would even be able to make it to her house. As we were going outside he told me the car had been constantly stalling and the noise just kept getting worse. I grabbed...
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...billion people on Earth, so why are many of them living in loneliness? Studies have shown that one of the primary sources to human happiness is the close and confident relation we can have to our fellow men. Therefore, the ability to communicate is crucial for how we will evolve in the future. Such issues are being handled in Richard Knight’s short story “Sorry for Disturbing You”, from 2008. In the short story, Michael Phelps is described as an old man, who one evening is knocking on Ian’s front door. He wants to borrow the phone so he can call a taxi. Phelps is intoxicated by alcohol and claims that he used to know the previous owners of Ian’s house, Edie and George Higham. Ian invites him in and tries to help him. To find what connection the drunken man has to this couple; he calls them, but without success. They will not help him at all: “Look, if he’s bothering you I suggest you call the police. I’m sorry he’s disturbing your evening but… I really must go. Sorry.” George Higham seems frustrated and dismissive towards Ian. This reaction is due to the fact that Edie Higman is the daughter of Michael Phelps. The reason why they do not stay in touch anymore is caused by Michael’s drinking problem. In addition, his family has rejected him. Furthermore Michael mentions that he should have been there for his daughter’s wedding: “It’s the alcohol you see. I should have walked her down the aisle you know.” Several times it is seen that Michael...
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...The second we walked into Taco Bell that night after a basketball game they should have been prepared for trouble. The four of us, Chad, Katie, Claire, and myself, had decided our last trip to Taco Bell deserved another one. It was sort of late at ten o’clock. Fast food restaurants have this weird quietness to them no matter the time. Something so busy shouldn't be so quiet. You can hear the workers in the back bustling behind the back counter trying to keep up with the drive through. Occasionally there’s family sitting down or a single person sitting by themselves. Though as usual there was no one. We walked up to the counter and decided to continue the game we had started on our last trip, giving a fake name to go with our order. Except this time we changed it up, and decided that we should all...
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...on the bedside table of my temporary home. I reluctantly rolled over and checked the time. 7:00 AM- too early. I trudged out of bed, turned off the alarm, and sluggishly walked over to the window. With the sun already raised and the birds chirping, I could clearly see my one wish for the night had occurred- snow. Full of excitement, I skipped across the room with my little 6 year old legs and approached the great mahogany door towering over me at the time. Slowly turning the handle, as if one noise would set off a nuclear explosion, I walked out into the hall. Little did I know, or had I mentally prepared, for the massive chaos I was about to submerge myself into. People were everywhere I looked- caterers, family, a preacher, a harpist, and a few other unidentified individuals at the time. It wasn’t until then that I remembered why I was waking up so early on this white Christmas Eve morning in Santa Fe, NM; it was a big day, my mom and step dad were getting married. Without even making myself noticed, I slipped back into the comfort of my quiet, serene room. It was going to be a good day. She was beautiful. That was the first thing I noticed as my mother walked from the house to the alter to the traditional tune of “Here Comes the Bride” beautifully being played on the harp. It was the perfect morning for a wedding; a cold, crisp, Christmas Eve morning to be exact. As my mother was standing there beside my soon to be step father, I couldn’t help but look up towards my brother...
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...On the 1st September 2014 I made a time traveler machine. I decided to travel to the Inca Civilization. The Incas Civilization lived in the Andes mountains from around 1435 to 1533. I decided to travel to the Inca Civilization because I wanted to learn how they lived, I wanted to learn about their culture and I just wanted to see their cities. I wanted to live as a Inca for one year. On 1st September 2014 I traveled to the Inca Civilization, I was going to be gone for a year. I walked into the traveler machine, everything around me became white. And when I walked out, I was on top of a mountain. Around me it was buildings and roads. I also saw people growing crops in the mountain hills. People walked around in the city. I had seen the city before, it was Machu Picchu. It were water canal around in the city. The city was beautiful, and the view. You could feel that it was hard to breath because it was so high over the ocean....
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...WHEN I FIRST SAW HIM Two desolate people – a misery shared can be a misery halved? I was taking my usual evening walk in the park... wallowing in self-pity is what most people would call it. Of course my family understood; they all told me that – time and again and this gave me great comfort. But then they would say the same stupid things like: "You'll get over it Carol." or "But life has to go on, you have to try and forget Gary and the way that he treated you." Oh they thought they were being good to me; and considerate with these words... but all they were actually doing to me... were destroying me. I was making my way to my seat by the river, so that I could have my usual cry in peace; with no one to disturb me. I walked around the last turn on the path and the seat came into view. My heart sank, usually there was no one around at this time of the autumn evening, but tonight... someone had stolen my refuge. I felt resentment towards the person sitting on the seat. It was a man, a tramp by the looks of him, it was quite dark, but there was a light not far away from him so that I had a good view. He was holding a bottle in one hand and as I watched he lifted it and took a gulp from it. Not only a tramp, but a drunk as well! I started to turn in disgust, but as I did so, something about the man made me turn back again. He was sitting with his head down a totally dejected look about him. He looked how I felt, and my heart went out to him in mutual...
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