It so happened that she must have got the bus home that night. The old, rusty buses, which have gum stuck to the seat, and cigarette burn marks in the back. The air was cold and icy and you could see your breath in front of you like a puff of smoke, as it hit the frosty air. The night was also dark. It seemed like no light was present as if there was just a massive black hole. The absence of light was incredible, the only source being that of a small flickering house light a mile or two away. A burned out car lay quietly in a nearby ditch silently watching the world go by. A rabbit scuttled past and smoothly glided into its burrow safe, and away from the rain and chill. She walked on, past the giant disused barn, and past the old post office whose large wooden sign creaked uneasily and moaned loudly in the wind. Last year's calendar still hung on the wall. Pictures from yesteryear were displayed crookedly in the window. The mystery man waited beside the house. An old house rotten with age, worn and battered looking. It had been mistreated for years, looking helplessly shameful standing in the cold, offering no protection to any one willing to live inside. He crouches in a puddle seemingly unaware of the dampness seeping trough the thin weaving of his faded and bleached overalls. He looks calm and steady. He had done thus before. It was clear by the state of his cloths that this was not his first killing. He held the knife is held firmly in his hand; sometimes a small flicker of the middle finger makes a rustling noise up against a dead leaf next to him. The gardens were elegant and overgrown, full of weeds and uncut grass. A reoccurring silhouette flitted between the bushes and shrubs. The face of the nameless man had an expression of fear and anxiousness as the figure continued to glide over the ground. A black cat appeared and crossed his path leaving the male with a face
There I was, stumbling watery-eyed through Minneapolis' whipping sub-zero winds. I'd lost feeling in my lower extremities. Frosted saliva dotted my cheeks as I gasped for air.
Deep breath, icy wind flows through her nostrils as her eyes drift closed. Silence the mind. Silence the obnoxious chatter. She shouldn’t think of that awful exam, she tells herself. She shouldn’t worry about how hurtful someone else’s comments were to her. Deep breath. Hold. Her shoulders slump. The wind howls around her, snow falls lulling the world into a dreamscape. Finally, there is silence. Goosebumps grow upward on her flesh, a shiver shakes her back, but there is no response. The cold has no effect, she is finally at peace. Mind empty, focusing on the now, she breathes until her body is relaxed and her mind is content
has only one train of thought - how can she rid herself of The Snow
It began with the cold. Spots of cold. A moment of normal then cold, as if the heat were sucked into another dimension. These don’t bother me as much as the touch. A handless touch of nothing. Something grabbed by arm but no one was there.
War is a very controversial dilemma, which could be solved in an orderly fashion rather then a callous disaster where young men and women die. This cataclysmic story takes place in a short story written by Liam O'Flaherty, the story takes place in Dublin, Ireland during the 1920's where a Republican sniper is involved with a terrible accident. He suffers dramatic injury to the soul and heart when someone that he loves dearly is shot. The story's theme is intensified through situational irony, which shows the pointlessness of armed conflict.
warmer place or by taking off or putting on a piece of clothing and to
It’s winter, and your windows are frosted with ice. Snow drifts blanket your grass and summer flowers. You glance out at your car in the driveway, and you’re not exactly looking forward to the trek out there, to watching your breath as you wait for it to warm up.
I felt the cold arctic blast of cold air conditioning hit my face like a concrete wall. I walked forcefully down the long well lit hallway. I walked past the state
fence would not have been a problem for him, but at the apex is barbed
All at once the ice gave way beneath me; I didn't even have time to
"The Sniper" places a strong emphasis on the evils of war, and yet paints a vivid image of mankind's qualities and their society. Employing the technique of describing one particular sniper to symbolise a general subject, readers are able to gain a deep insight into the evils of war. In this story, the assembly of setting, contrasting characters and themes of fanaticism and division of loyalties are vital to conveying the horror of war. On the other hand, "The Sniper" also discusses the power of war, depicting it as the decider of life and death for men. Its force is further emphasised when neighbours are turned into enemies under war's influence.
beneath his dignity (to have blood on his hands and clothes) and left this to
Society today is fascinated with famous serial killers, people want to know what makes someone want to kill. Over the years, famous serial killers such as; Ted Bundy known as a crazy necrophile who murdered women then indulged in sexual acts with their corpses, Dennis Rader famously known as the “BTK killer” which stood for bind, tortured, and killed his victims; Andrei Chikatilo who was named “The Butcher” who stated it brought psychological relief when he used his knife on his victims, while he sexually assaulted, killed, and mutilated many women and children. People are attracted to the mysterious lifestyle of a serial killer, which creates a feeling of terror and excitement that individuals envision while watching scary movies. Realizing that real life horror stories and criminals, we view on television are sometimes true (Scoopwhoop.com).
“I felt a cold sweat run down my back as I realized what it would have
him when he was asleep and that he took his crown and his queen. This is the first time the reader