Closing her eyes, Alison inhaled, concentrating; feeling the all-too-familiar sensation of passing through and emerging from a wall of water, she opened her eyes. She was no longer in her chambers; rather she was on a rocky crater, devoid of any life except for her and another. A few feet away the Other stood. Though the shadow from his hooded-cape hid his face, she could tell that he was even less pleased with her than usual. "You have not been reporting regularly," he hissed. "I apologize, things have been busy now that Frigga has been taking notice of me," she replied. "What could be more important than the task he set before you?" "Nothing, I just do not wish to raise suspicion. It would be fairly obvious that something is off if I were to suddenly go into a self-induced trance in public." "Is that all? We were beginning to think that you were losing conviction," she had to refrain from flinching as she felt his hot, sticky breath on her neck, "that, perhaps, you could use a little motivation," he whispered in her ear. "That will not be necessary," sh...
1. Chapter 3, page 5, #3: “A little fog hung over the river so that as I neared it I felt myself becoming isolated from everything except the river and the few trees beside it. The wind was blowing more steadily here, and I was beginning to feel cold.”
Hiding from those who would find him and carry out the wrath of vengeance upon him, the protagonist plans his escape. About to dive in the rancid water and swim for it, a body in the shallows abruptly stops him. The bloated and decomposing corpse pulls the narrator back from his adrenaline-induced frenzy. After a few moments, he settles and reflects, “I thought about him, fog on the lake, insects chirring eerily, and felt the tug of fear, felt the darkness opening up inside me like a set of jaws. Who was he, I wondered, this victim of time and circumstance bobbing sorrowfully in the lake at my back” (193). The narrator can almost envision himself as the man whose corpse is before him. Both deceased from mysterious causes, involved in shady activities, and left to rot in the stagnant lake water, and never to be discovered by the outside world. This marks the point where the main character is the closest he has ever been to death. Although he makes it out alive, the protagonist and his outlook on life are forever changed.
"I'm heading out to make an arrest." He replied, his tone carried a slight hint of Incertitude as to the motive of this inquiry.
In order to understand the behavior and actions of the four characters in this story, the author must describe the place physical place and time where the four characters must survive. The perception of this environment is crucial for the actions of the characters to be appropriate. Clark describes some sights in this decimated prairie, “The frozen mud still bore the toothed impress of great tanks, and a wanderer on the neighboring undulations might have stumbled, in this light, into large, partially filled-in and weed-grown cavities, their banks channeled and beginning to spread into badlands. These pits were such as might have been made by falling meteors, but they were not. They were scars ...
story, she emphasizes this isolation by describing the emptiness of the terrain through which the
the magnitude of this lonely state. When Shelley is describing the desert and how there is
The sea breeze whipped her hair in her face. She stood on a rock above the glistening sea. Bundled in jackets and scarves to shield her from the cold, she sat down to watch the setting sun. The sunset painted brilliant colors across the sky. Pinks and oranges and reds blended across the sky as if it was a blank canvas, that paint was dripping down. The ocean tide slid along the shore and retreated, each time it did so the ocean retreated farther out revealing a lot of sand. It was marvelous to see the hidden treasures beneath the sea. Suddenly a large wave was seen in the distance. A wall of water towering high. She stood up, not sure if she should run or stay. Running sounded best. She hardly had time to think before the towering wave advanced
When he was young, Mark would run up and down these stone tunnels. There were countless turns and dead ends to keep him happy for hours. Now, he trailed his hand on the sweating walls and breathed in the scent of wet rock with sad nostalgia. So much had happened since then and some days he wished he was still that six year old kid, without a care in the world.
As I inched my way toward the cliff, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I could feel the coldness of the rock beneath my feet when my toes curled around the edge in one last futile attempt at survival. My heart was racing like a trapped bird, desperate to escape. Gazing down the sheer drop, I nearly fainted; my entire life flashed before my eyes. I could hear stones breaking free and fiercely tumbling down the hillside, plummeting into the dark abyss of the forbidding black water. The trees began to rapidly close in around me in a suffocating clench, and the piercing screams from my friends did little to ease the pain. The cool breeze felt like needles upon my bare skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The threatening mountains surrounding me seemed to grow more sinister with each passing moment, I felt myself fighting for air. The hot summer sun began to blacken while misty clouds loomed overhead. Trembling with anxiety, I shut my eyes, murmuring one last pathetic prayer. I gathered my last breath, hoping it would last a lifetime, took a step back and plun...
Morgan then begins to dive into the depths of her desolation. The reader is made aware of how lonely she felt with the use of personification:
But, if we read carefully we find that she is described as a young woman, “with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength,” (236) and that there was “a dull stare in her eyes whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky” (236). We could surmise that she is instead looking to her future, in the midst of her grief, and that this is a completely acceptable, even understandable reaction for a young woman of strength and intelligence, who is realizing for the first time a sense of true
He tasted the almost perverse pleasure of disengaging himself line by line from the things around him, and at the same time feeling his head rest comfortably on the green velvet of the chair with its high back, sensing that the cigarettes rested within reach of his hand, that beyond the great windows the air of afternoon danced under the oak trees in the park. Word by word, licked up by the sordid dilemma of the hero and heroine, letting himself be absorbed to the point where the images settled down and took on color and movement, he was witness to the final encounter in the mountain cabin.
The life of a prisoner was tough. The life of a prisoner was harsh. They had no respect. I think I could’ve survived a day living in a concentration camp. Do you think you could? This passage is about the daily life of a prisoner in a concentration camp. This is your chance for you to read the struggle.
A shrill cry echoed in the mist. I ducked, looking for a sign of movement. The heavy fog and cold storm provided nothing but a blanket, smothering all sight and creating a humid atmosphere. The freezing air continued to whip at my face, relentless and powerful. Our boat, stuck in the boggy water. Again a cry called. Somewhere out there was someone, or something.
When Grandfather awoke from his unconscious state the battle was over, and he found himself lost deep within the woods. Night had fallen, and there was a bright yellow moon overhead. He said he wondered around for some time trying to recall what had put him in such a place and state. Grandfather would tell us that the farther he walked about, the deeper into the shadowy woods he wondered.