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The day was bright, the sun rays bounced off the royal blue convex awning covering the little flower shop on 10th and 4th. It was a slow day as the Cashier lay her torso on the granite counter top, playing with the petals of a peony flower and staring into the glossy window. A small bell went off as the blue door creaked open. “Hello! How may I help you!” Claudia, the cashier, said as she stood up right. She walked around the counter to greet the customer. When she made it around all the flowers she saw a figure in a blank canvas like trench coat and ducky-yellow rain boots. “Hi there, I am here to see your flowers! I am trying to decide wether or not the pink roses or the begonias would look better on me, what do you think?” Claudia looked the …show more content…
“Thank you.” Clover sniffed the rose as she held it profoundly. Claudia content as she was bent down to get a bag for the roses, when she stood back up she grabbed to place the roses in the bag but noticed they were not there. She looked up and found herself in shock. The trench coat. The snow-white trench coat. It was no longer blank but instead had Pink Roses patterned all over, from the cuffs to the trim. Clover had put a 10 dollar bill on the counter and stood there smiling, waiting to be given the receipt. “U-u-um” she shook her head “So- wait. What. What just happened? I demand an explanation!” Claudia denying her eyes she came from around the counter and took the coat in hand. She searched all over trying to figure out what had just happened. Clover took her hands and kept her from freaking out too much. “It’s magic. You see I’m a magician, although I could've said that the trench coat hadn't changed and see you go crazy but I like you too much.” Clover laughed and pulled one pink rose out of her pocket, she gave it to Claudia. “Now my dear, I will be on my way. I may come and stop back in again, just wait and
" I really wonder what happened."
On a Saturday afternoon in December, Barbara was sitting outside in her private sanctuary with her daughter Layla, since she had nothing to get ready for. Her private sanctuary was filled with exotic flowers, and trees with orchids of bright color hang...
When Alaska got in the car accident, there was a bouquet of white flowers in the backseat. White daisies and tulips had always been her favorite kind of flower. She was always picking them around Culver Creek whenever sh...
As the waitress brought me my meal, she is whispered to me that Moe was actually a mad ex-con. Also that this cafe was actually fake and just to trap young waitresses and just a trap for young waitresses and hold them captive. Sadly,the waitress herself was a victim of this crime. In complete shock, I told her to leave with me. But she couldn’t since she was restricted by an electrically-wired ankle monitor. The type of monitor that was used for people on house arrest. Somehow,Moe managed to take it off and run this mad house. I then tried to call the police but there wasn’t any signal,leaving me isolated with no outside help. This left me with no choice but to attack the villain. I devised a plan along the sports fans sitting in the next
ii. “When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for a moment. I want to give that to someone else. Most people in the city rush around so, they have no time to look at a flower. I want them to see it whether they want or not.”
Miss Strangeworth is a very proud woman, almost too proud about her house and her town. The first thing she brags about are her roses, she never lets anyone take them because she loves them so much. She also was very proud of her grandmother and grand father because they were the first to build a house in what is now a town, the town ‘wanted to put up a
We run to the coffee shop to escape the breezy, frigid weather of mid 30 degrees. I laugh as Jenny almost runs into a bussiness man, and we continue to weave through people. When we arrive, I have to order for both us. “Hi Jenny, what can I get for you guys today?” the cashier asks.
Two men were working the front end, the cashier at register 3 was helping an older looking woman with a sun hat, Capri pants ,and far too much make up on, the other cashier was leaning on the bag rack behind him, enjoying a break in a slow day . Both of the clerks looked as if they were in their early twenties, definently townies, the townies hated summer vacationers. Townies never said a word to vacationers, and you could tell in their attitude; they all longed for Labor Day to roll around so everyone would go home, bringing peace to their little town again. My observations of the store and town politics were...
Phoenix looked at her with confusion. “Lady I don’t got the money to buy those. I don’t got any money to buy anything,” Phoenix mumbled. “It’s on the house. Now, take these flowers to your grandson.
Eddie gave his award winning giggle and removed the rose from his mouth. He held his hand out to me and I hesitantly let him grab my hand and twirled me in a circle. He held the rose out to me and bowed rather dramatically looking up to wink.
Thanks.", she called back to him knowing now that it was certainly time to ditch the pooch. When she felt she was a good ways ahead of him she glanced back over her shoulder only to see that he was trailing behind her, her heart dropped as a panic set in. All of the sudden she felt like a rabbit running from the big bad wolf. But this rabbit wasn't about to fall victim to such a beast! Internally cursing she needed to loose him, or at least force him to back off... but how? Her eyes landed on what appeared to be a large store of some sort, full of what looked like fancy plates and glasses just across the street. Surely he wouldn't do anything foolish if she went in
Rose reached out toward that little box she had eyed earlier, and her fingers danced across the upper edge as she debated pulling it out toward her. Mind weighing the upsides and downsides--of which they were few--and as she finally started to tug it toward her, that necklace that loosely hang around her neck began to glow. Immediately, she frowned, and sat up while bringing up one of her hands to cup it in her palm and raise it to she could see. Lips pressed thin, she regarded it silently for a few moments.
He took off the elastic band out of my hair and combed with his fingers softly. It felt relaxing. “Where did you learn how to braid?” I asked while I was turned around and he was dealing with my hair which was long enough to reach down to edge of my scapulas. “Well, believe it or not, I used to have long, long hair back in college.”
Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen I, Lord Montague am here today to talk you about my beloved son and my daughter in law who has sadly died. How I have learnt many things from this tragic death. It pains me to say this but it was my very own fault for all these deaths. However it was also my beloved sons fault as well as many other people
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).