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Short Story
It was about one-thirty in the morning in the town of Homestead Michigan. The almost florescent light of the moon bouncing off the fresh puddles that covered the ground. The grass and trees were covered in a thin layer of water causing every little beam of light to reflect back up. Anyone who may have been outside at this time would have without double, smelled the mix of fresh dirt and night crawlers. As the moonlight started to fade away through the cloud cover, three buses made there way through the streets and parked in front of HHS, the local high school.
As the team started to depart the bus, the numbered shorts and jerseys slowly made there way back to there cars. As Rich opened his door and practically collapsed in his seat he wondered if the game that they had just arrived from was even worth the humiliation that his team suffered by the 110-53 victory by there rival team. Rich slumped the rest of the way into his car buckling up and starting the engine. After a night as bad as this one all he wanted was to get home and finally get to sleep. Rich put his car in drive and slowly made his way to the street in front of the school.
As Rich made his way past the barber shop on Vine street he started thinking about when he got home all that he was going to do was to slip into his covers and fall right to sleep and now have to even get up early in the morning. thump thump. Rich snapped his eyes open s...
Have you ever dreamt of your dream house? Have you ever wanted to invest in the stock market? Have you ever dreamt of winning a large sum of money in a short time? If so, I strongly advise you to read the short story ‘Paper’. In the story, Tay Soon and his wife dreamt of owning a big house so they tried their best to collect their money to buy it. As the stock market was growing interest at that time, they decided to invest some money in the market so as to pay their house. Luckily, they won the money for their house in the market. However, they were so greedy that they continued investing in the market. The market crash came and they lost all their money. Because Tay Soon could not accept it, he went mad. Finally, the madness drove him to death and his mother decided to build a paper house which he had dreamt before. In ‘Paper’, Catherine Lim uses irony to admonish people not to be greedy; otherwise, a person may lose his life and family.
In the short story “Just Lather, That’s All” by Hernando Tellez, the barber says little yet he is shown to be a complex character. The story is about the owner of a male haircut place. The male hair stylist has secretly become an informant for a band of rebels. When a violent/difficult military captain asks for a shave, the barber must decide whether to kill the captain or let him go. In the end, he decides he doesn't want blood on his hands. The barber is clever, patient and caring.
The short stories “The Snows of Kilimanjaro” and “The Short Happy Life of Francis Mocomber” were both written by world renowned author Ernest Hemingway. The two stories are written completely unrelated to each other; however, both stories have vast similarities in the time and place in which they take place. Hemingway is a writer that is very methodical in his word choices. When reading these two stories a second time the reader finds considerable differences in the writing style the author uses in each story. To demonstrate, three sentences from each story will be compared and contrasted to show the differences in word usage, word connotation, and to find which story is written better. The initial pair of these sentences to be looked at are, “A fourth planed down, to run quick-legged and then waddle slowly toward the others,” from the short story “The Snows of Kilimanjaro,” and “On the far bank of the stream Macomber could see, above the trees, vultures circling and plummeting down,” from the story “The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber.” The subsequent couple of sentences are “’You Bitch,’ he said,” from the “Snows of Kilimanjaro” and “’Why not let up on the bitchery just a little, Margot,’ Macomber said, cutting the eland steak and putting some mashed potato, gravy and carrot on the down-turned fork that tined through the piece of meat.” Finally, the third set of sentences are “She shot very well this good, rich bitch, this kindly destroyer of his talent,” from the story “Snows of Kilimanjaro” and “’That was a good shot,’ Wilson said,” from the story, “A Short Happy Life.”
Around midnight on the fourth day, the boy and his family members awakened again. This time they went with the family of the house's owner to a bus station where they took the bus going northward. The boy was very happy because he was free at last to play as a normal child again. On the way, everybody was fascinated and hypnotized by the scenery along the road, especially the kids because it was the first time they had left the cosmopolitan city for the countryside.
"And then I woke up."Thus goes the kind of "trick ending" that every first year writing student is told to avoid, a mark of cheap theatrics and poor craftsmanship.Historically, this kind of ending is often associated with Guy de Maupassant, the prolific French writer of the 19th century, or his 20th century American heir apparent, O. Henry (William S. Porter).In this well researched and at moments insightful book, Richard Fusco argues that Maupassant's bad rap as first and foremost the inventor and disseminator of the "trick ending" is undeserved.What Fusco feels Maupassant does deserve is recognition as perhaps the single most important influence on American short story writers of the late 19th and early 20th century, particularly Ambrose Bierce, Kate Chopin, Henry James, and of course O. Henry.However, even as Fusco's readings of these writers are laudable in their thoroughness (with the exception of his treatment of O. Henry), his overall argument seems finally too dependent on an understanding of "trick ending" which does not make necessary distinctions, and is therefore superficial enough to accommodate nearly any writer one cares to name.
Damn it! Samantha is starting to cry, but I don’t want to say that I’m sorry even though I probably should. I am sorry. Sort of sorry. Like so many things, I really don’t care. Sometimes, I think about going to see someone, sorting all of this shit out. There will always be a need for those people. People you pay hundreds of dollars to, just to tell you that you have abandonment issues and describe how you can’t really feel anything. Thanks, I know. Just the thought of going to one of those big looking offices and sitting in a waiting room with a bunch of other people with a bunch of other problems, pretending not to look at each other. And then it’s my turn to sit in front of a complete stranger and bitch and moan
In The Cask of Amontillado, Poe describes the picture on the crest as a golden foot crushing a serpent, which has its fangs imbedded in the heel of the foot. Poe also mentions the motto “Nemo me impune lacessit (no one provokes me with impunity)” told by Montresor to Fortunato, which signifies the analysis of this profound picture on the crest. According to the plot of the story, the foot represents not only Montresor but also his status-consciousness and cruelty towards Fortunato. As image of the picture demonstrates, not only will the Montresors punish anyone whom they feel harms or insults them, but they will also administer that punishment with a sense of authority. The serpent, however, depicts Fortunato and his actions that insult Montresor. Poe specifically used serpent here to emphasize upon Fortunato’s role play because it signifies death and destruction with a combination of strength which in this story foreshadows Fortunato’s death due to the strong impact of insult on Montresor’s life. Serpent is also the symbol wisdom and blind passion. The serpent biting the heel embod...
Once there was a group a of friends who wanted to go camping in the woods their names were Miranda who was the nerd in the group, and Rachel and Nick who are twins. Rachel wasn’t that smart but she was good at sports and Nick just liked sleeping and going on adventures. So than one day around noon all three were sitting down eating lunch when Rachel suggested going camping for spring break, Nick and Miranda hesitated but they both said sure because it would give them something to do.
A short story is a fictional piece of writing that can range from 1,000 to 20,000 words. Unlike a novel, he reader should be able to read a short story within a short amount of time. Because the length of a short story is shorter than a novel, it usually has one main character (minor characters can be added in limited amounts) and focuses on one plot, setting, and central theme.
We got into the “boat” that you ride, and it started up the ramp to the top. When we got to the top, we slid down really fast, it was awesome! At the end of the ride, the boat hits the water and sends up a huge spray getting everyone wet.
'Compare/contrast Faulkner's 'Dry September' with 'A rose for Emily' in terms of writing style and character presentation.';
The short story, “The Yellow Wallpaper,” written by Charlotte Perkins Gilman focuses on a young woman’s psychological downfall and her fascination with the wallpaper within the house she and her husband are living in. The woman begins to believe that the wallpaper is coming alive, which leads her to become confused with reality and fantasy. Gilman selects the crazed woman as the narrator of the story. Furthermore, Gilman uses first person point of view to effectively convey the woman’s emotions and feelings during her mental decline.
There was a girl named Kandy, she was 15 years old. Her life was extremely boring, all she ever did was go to school, go on her computer, eat and sleep. She spent all summer on her computer. She was really good with HTML and spent her free time making web sites. Kandy didn't have many friends and rarely talked to guys because she was shy and unconfident about her looks. That's why she went into chat rooms. She made a web site with pictures of herself on it and told people in chat rooms to go there. A lot of people would tell her how pretty she was and some would say she was ugly. That made her feel awful. When anyone would say anything nice to her, she wouldn't believe them and think that they were just making fun of her. She only had one real friend that she could talk to, her name was Ang.
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.
The traditional short story is a genre of a prose. It is a fiction work that presents a world in the moment of an unexpected change. The traditional short story obeys some rules, such as the unexpected change and major events with detail. The modern short story is a revolution which is based on the traditional short story. In other words, if the traditional short story is in the first floor, the modern short story is in the second floor. Therefore, the modern short story still obeys some rules that the traditional short story obeys, and breaks some rules that the traditional short story obeys. One rule that the modern short story still uses is the unexpected change. The rules broken by the modern short story are that the major events are not detailed, and that the border between the real world and the fiction world. This paper first talks about the unexcepted change and uses the examples of “Eveline” and “The Open Window.” Then, this paper talks about major events with detail, and uses the examples of “Lottery,” “The Open Window” and “Hills Like White Elephants.” Finally, this paper talks about the meta-literary and the border between the real world and the fiction