The light pattering of rain on the window steadily escalated to a constant pounding, accentuated by flashes of lightning, followed by the boom of thunder. While the rain was a welcome respite from the heatwave that plagued New York, it only meant trouble for Alexander Hamilton. The rain, wind, thunder, and lightning brought back desperately repressed memories of a tropical storm years ago that devastated his hometown. Even now, every clap of thunder made him jump, the ever-present sound of rain giving him a headache.
Alexander had been awake for days, and hadn’t eaten in longer. He was too busy writing, writing, writing. Getting his plan through congress was the most important thing now.
Alex shifted his attention back to the page he was
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Once again trying to focus, he didn’t even realize how bad his hands were shaking until he knocked over the bottle of ink sitting on his desk. Black trickled down the slightly crumpled paper, ruining the paragraphs he had written in the past four hours.
“No, no, no!” he whispered frantically to himself, doing his best not to wake John in the other room. He was so stupid. How was he supposed to write with his hands shaking? This was the most important piece of writing he had ever done in his career - no, his life - and he had just set his progress back by eight pages. Now he’d have to start over, try to remember everything he had gotten out of his head, focus on his persuasion techniques, ignore the storm, and it was too much, it was too much, he couldn’t handle this anymore-
Thunder boomed and cracked, shaking the house. Alex collapsed onto the floor with choked sob. It was too much, he was seventeen again, clinging desperately to hope that took the form of a saturated table as his home was ravaged by the storm. Lightning flashed, and thunder came soon after, forcing Alex’s hands to clasp tightly around his head. A vice-like pressure surrounded his chest, cutting off his breathing. Spasms coursed through his body, and his eyes were wet. He was vaguely aware of a voice calling his name and pain on his hands, but it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he was on the floor but it
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I understand if you don’t want to tell me everything, but at least let me know what I can do to help.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Alex said, giving up on trying to break free and turning around to face his significant other. “There’s just a lot of things I need to do, I need to get my plan through congress, but then I spilled my ink, and the storm...”
Alex’s eyes glazed over and he didn’t speak for several minutes. His breath hitched, and John just held him tighter, letting him know it was okay.
“When I was seventeen, a hurricane blew through my town,” Alex started softly, and John ran his fingers through his hair, silently urging him to continue. Alex took a deep breath. “It was awful. There were bodies everywhere, people I knew. Everything was destroyed - my home, my belongings, my books.” He shuddered at the memory and rested his head on John’s arm. “I guess I just really don’t like storms,” he said defeatedly.
Laurens held him close, doing his best to soothe him. John finally understood why Alex always shut himself off whenever there was even a light drizzle, why he could never appreciate the rain the way John did.
Alex fell back asleep to the feeling of Laurens’ hands in his hair and his chest rising and falling
Of the many figures in American History, Alexander Hamilton has proven himself one of the most versatile and influential. His policies and ideals have helped the United States blossom into a prosperous world power. Through his power as secretary of Treasury and his convincing intellectual efforts, he was able to dominate the nations early political environment. Hamilton’s patriotic endeavors have proven themselves to be durable and in the best interests of the United States.
His vision of the New World was of true, idealistic freedom with limited government involvement; an educated farmer, a moral man who would sustain himself off of the very land his freedom was based. Alexander Hamilton was born a bastard child in the West Indies and demonstrated great intellectual potential at an early age. He was sent to New York City for schooling and studied at King’s College, now Columbia University. His vision of America took a more capitalistic tone and “he was determined to transform an economically weak and fractious cluster of states into a powerful global force” (Tindall & Shi, 2010). Hamilton advocated a strong central government.
While this story does expose the little known flaws of Hamilton, it also shows how intelligent he was. Many of us today wish we could
Writing in her journal is the only thing that keeps her sane; yet John takes that away from her: “I must put this away-he hates to have me write” (Gilman 41). The narrator yearns to confess to John how she really feels, but she prefers to keep her feelings bottled up: “I think sometimes that if I were to write a little it would relieve the pressure of ideas and rest me” (Gilman 42). Instead, she is passive and hides her emotions. “I cry at nothing and cry most of the time. Of course I don’t when John is here, or anybody else,” only “when I am alone” (Gilman 44). She tells us that “John doesn’t know how much I really suffer” (Gilman 41). Even when the narrator tries to communicate with him, he immediately dismisses her: “I tried to have a real earnest reasonable talk with him,” but “John wouldn’t hear of it” (Gilman 40). Instead of speaking her mind and standing up for herself, she withdraws and does “not say another word”(Gilman 47).
Alex took the beer carefully staring at it confused. He shook his head and slowly handed the beer back to John. John raised an eyebrow, confused.
Kate Chopin’s “The Storm”, is a story filled with metaphorical references between a thunderstorm of rain and a thunderstorm of passion. Calixta, Bobinot, and Bibi led, what one would assume to be, a rather normal life. While Bobinot and Bibi are in town shopping they notice a storm approaching, and “Bobinot, who was accustomed to converse on terms of perfect equality with his little son, called the child’s attention to certain sombre clouds that were rolling with sinister intention from the west, accompanied by a sullen, threatening roar.” However, a moment a Mother Nature’s fury unleashed a wealth of passion between Calixta and her former beau Alcee Laballiere.
Jackson immediately feels some of the tension, starting to leave his body. As soon as his body touches hers, And, the soothing sound of her heart beat begins to fill his ears. His eyes shut briefly at the sound of her
The wind was loud, louder than usual. Ryder listened as the rain pattered against the roof. Ryder tried and tried to go to sleep, but something inside of him kept him awake. Maybe it was the rain. He felt the urge to go downstairs and wake his baby brother but ultimately decided not to. He looked out his window trying to occupy himself. He focused on the giant oak tree in his backyard, the creaking of the tire swing, and the creaking of the katydids.
Alexander Cold awakened at dawn, startled by a nightmare. He had been dreaming that an enormous black bird had crashed against the window with a clatter of shattered glass, flown into the house, and carried off his mother. In the dream, he watched helplessly as the gigantic vulture clasped Lisa Cold's clothing in its yellow claws, flew out the same broken window, and disappeared into a sky heavy with dark clouds. What had awakened him was the noise from the storm: wind lashing the trees, rain on the rooftop, and thunder.
“Human nature never fails to be brought forward in its brightest as well as in its blackest colors” (Chernow 284). Throughout Alexander Hamilton’s life, he not only changed the face of our nation, but also made some decisions that ruined his political and social career. Ron Chernow takes the life of America’s youngest founding father and gives it a whole new level of depth and perspective. The purpose of this essay is to explain the author’s writing style, content, and purpose of Alexander Hamilton as well as give my personal opinion on the book’s material.
The vicissitude of weather came suddenly and unbeknownst to our small sleeping company. Thunder boomed. Lightning cracked and split the sky. Clouds formed overhead, rain began to fall, and the wind grew unpropitious. Clamoring voices pulled me from unconsciousness. Water pooled at the base of our tent, our rain fly and tarp doing little to protect us from the raging storm. Our counselor, Jane, ripped open the zippers of the neighboring tent and emerged. Her voice barely carried over the harsh drumming of the rain, coaxing us out of our saturated shelter where she explicated her
When she looked at Aamir he was sobbing. Zara's eyes widened and she could only watch him and wait for him to quiet down, unable to provide him comfort.
The roar of laughter shattered the air like glass as she hid her face in her hands and her first tear broke free. Followed by an uncontrollable stream of tears falling down one after another clouding her vision, her dark lashes brimmed with little crystal clear droplets of water streaming down from her honey-colored eyes rolling off her quivering lips. The sobs punched through, ripping through her muscles, bones, and guts as she sat adjacent to the window, counting each rhythmic drop of rain that hit the saturated ground forming small puddles. Darkened gray smudges of wool threateningly surrounded the sky; like a predator encircling its prey. A startling low rumble ruffled the tranquil breeze as the sky roared with satisfaction. The grape-like
By nightfall, everyone was exhausted and awaiting a good night’s sleep. Mother Nature had other plans. A torrential thunderstorm, a solid “red” on the radar, pounded our camp. The sound amplified through the heavy canvas tents. The mature oak trees eerily groaned
From cloudy to sunny, I had nothing to complain; except for the fact that the weather is very unpredictable. My phone rang while at the dentist office. Her greeting was a rustling thunder and the purpose of her call struck me like lighting. Soon after it started to pour all around me. The conversation was a despairing reminder of my tragedy and the source of all madness. My internal dam could hold back no more and became over flooded with pure emotion and pain. Wondering eyes caught sight of this storm. Without a hint of shame they looked and as I walked away I could feel their whispering winds brush against my ears and burrow into my