We drive with the windows down, the cool August breeze blows Dellilah’s hair. Baby Charlie sits in his carseat, playing with a red block. Delilah cooes to Charlie, and she dances to the radio station I have. Our new black Cadillac coasts across Hollywood streets. I love my family, and I will propose to Delilah soon, I want her to be my wife so badly. Father thinks it's a terrible idea, we are still very young. He thinks I should wait awhile, especially since Dellilah had Charlie so young. I look at Delilah, her smile reaching her eyes. Delilah screams, “Lawrence!” I look back towards the road and slam on the brakes. It's too late, the Cadillac swerves into the traffic and flips over. I hear Charlie screaming and crying in the back of the car. …show more content…
I have been neglecting Charlie so much, I'm blessed to have Sara, she is Charlie,s caregiver. 2 Years have gone by since we lost sweet Delilah, and I miss her every day. I do know that drowning in my misery won't help Charlie, and it's definitely not what Delilah would have wanted. I decide to pay my father a visit, I drive over to his grand mansion. He is smoking a cigar in his office when I arrive. “Awe. Lawrence, what a surprise. What brings you to my home,” he makes a circle with his smoke. I smile, “ Father, I'm tired of being so miserable. I have decided to take a trip to France, I'm going to study something there. I want to make a better life for Charlie and I. The life I never got to have with Delilah”, I swallow and look to the floor. “I'm very proud, I think this is an incredible idea. May I have the honor of personally watching Charlie. I want him to know who I grandfather is,” father puts his cigar away. “My flight leaves in 3 days.” He looks surprised. Still, he stands up and hugs me. Whispering “I've missed you.” I don't say anything, I just pat him on the shoulder and head …show more content…
I'm immediately seated, and I browse the thick green menu. There is a white tablecloth, and cutlery folded into the napkins. Scanning the menu, I see there is sandwiches, soups, coffee, and different pastries. Out of the corner of my eye I see, a young, beautiful, blonde waitress walking my direction. “Bonjoure! And welcome to my corner of France. My name is Alana, and I will be serving you today. What can I get you”, Alana smiles at me. I'm tounge tied, her beauty has distracted me, and I forgot what I was going to order. “Uh. Um. I,” is all I can get out of my scratchy throat. She looks down at me” forgive me. Were you not ready yet.” “Erm. Um. No Mame! I am ready. My apologies, I have had a long journey here.” She gets her notepad out, and clicks her pen. Alana blows a strand of hair out of her face, “ An American boy, you are far from home.” I smile and return my gaze too the menu, “Ha yes.” Alana opened her mouth, but a man shouts from across the restaurant “Alana, leave the poor man alone, and get him his lunch!” I can tell she is embarrassed, her cheeks turn a rose pink, she pushes hair behind her ears and mumbles “Right.” I look back at her “ I think the soup special and a crosaint will be nice” she chuckles and scribbles my order
Ehrenreich understands that her current employment will not provide her with enough pay to live on. She interviews and is hired at another restaurant called Jerry’s. Unfortunately, Jerry’s is a train wreck. At this restaurant, Ehrenreich finds that the restaurant layout is deplorable. The kitchen of the...
Susie’s mother opened the door to let Molly, Susie’s babysitter, inside. Ten-month old Susie seemed happy to see Molly. Susie then observed her mother put her jacket on and Susie’s face turned from smiling to sad as she realized that her mother was going out. Molly had sat for Susie many times in the past month, and Susie had never reacted like this before. When Susie’s mother returned home, the sitter told her that Susie had cried until she knew that her mother had left and then they had a nice time playing with toys until she heard her mother’s key in the door. Then Susie began crying once again.
“I still recall… going into the large, darkened parlor to see my brother and finding the casket, mirrors and pictures all draped in white, and my father seated by his side, pale and immovable. As he took no notice of me, after standing a long while, I climbed upon his knee, when he mechanically put his arm about me and with my head resting against his beating heart we both sat in silence, he thinking of the wreck of all his hopes in the loss of a dear son, and I wondered what could be said or done to fill the void in his breast. At length, he heaved a deep sign and said: “Oh, my daughter, I wish you were a
Have you ever had that one bone chilling moments when you feel like someone is there, but no one is? Or when you are home alone and you are positive you heard someone or something. When you turn around when you hear something and all it is a long dark hallway. In this paper you will read about some of the scariest places in America. Imagine walking alone in one of those buildings and hearing a noise or seeing someone or something, but you know you are all alone. Or are you? Norwich state hospital, the Lizzie Borden house, the Stanley hotel, the White House, and the oak alley plantation are some of the buildings where rapes, beatings, death, starving’s, ax murders, and slaves were.
In the city of Havana in Cuba back in 1989, was a little spot restaurant called La Cocina Ramona. A young girl named Selena Rivera had been working there as a dishwasher for about a year now. She started at age 13 working in the kitchen and busing tables. At the same time, she would look and watch the cooks work. She could remember when she was 10 after coming home from martial arts training, her mother would teach her and her sisters the art of cooking. Sylvia Fierro, the chef, needed help with getting ingredients prepped. “This is the list of what I need,” She said, holding the paper up in the air. Without waiting for an answer, Selena snatches the list from Sylvia's hand “I’ll do it” she says, and started going to work chopping lettuce,
It's Saturday night and I'm in my snug but not skin tight blue spaghetti strap floor length dark royal blue dress, all ready to go out to a very fancy restuarant. Old Country Buffet. As my friend and I climb out of my car in a classy like fashion, we realize that the line to Old COuntry Buffet is at least 50 meters long. "Oh My God." I say as my lipstick chalked lips fall to the floor. Glancing over at a fast-food pizza restaurant, my friend and I look at each other. "Uh huh." We both say. Pizza is better than some buffet anyway, I thought. About five minutes later, some friends of hours emerge from the middle of the centidpede like line and come up to us. I almost jumped in hyperness. "WHazzzzzzup?" I say in such a polite way, sticing my tougue out in my dress.
David Sedaris, the author of “Me Talk Pretty One Day”, tried diligently to make his essay funny. However, most of his humor fell flat in comparison to that of Dave Barry’s “Lost in the Kitchen.” This comes from someone who finds most things overly comical. Many of his attempts at humor lacked appeal because they provided no commonality to the reader’s own experiences. I have never gone to France or even left the United States for that matter, especially not to study a foreign language. Although, I do have experience with confused men performing simple household tasks such as cutting up vegetables. Many readers do as well which allowed a better connection to the essay.
Julia Child tried to keep herself occupied in France but couldn’t find anything she loved to do. Finally she decided to take a class at Le Cordon Bleu for cooking. She did not like the treatment she was getting in the women’s only class. ...
Arriving at Lacey’s house I walk to the backdoor letting myself into the house. Lacey was putting on tanning lotion in the kitchen, “Lacey,” I called to her, “my mom wants me to pick up snacks for the beach, do you want to go into town with me?”, “Sure,” she replied, “do you mind if my cousin comes with us?”, “Of course I don’t mind,“ I answered, “but we have to get moving, my dad only left me the car to use ‘til noon.”
The news of Grandma Singer dying had hit me like a punch to the gut. I quickly became so wrought up that I hadn’t even noticed when my mama began consoling me when she’d wrapped her arms tightly around me. At that moment it was as if I was a million miles away and all I could feel was this impenetrable wall of sadness welling up inside of me. Looking back, I don’t think I’d ever felt more abject in my entire life than I did right then, curled up in my mama’s arms crying like a baby. But then my mama said something to my step daddy that had changed everything. She said, “So, what do you think is going to happen with her house up in New York
Then she saw a greasy china plate that had bread crumbs, cheese and sausage. The pungent of cheese made her stomach grumble. The man was very rude and insulted her because she couldn’t read. Then Frances headed home and on her way, she bumped into a girl with a nice, green, winter coat. She imagined her Ma in that coat, twirling around with a smile on her face. The girl’s mother said a rather offensive sentence about Frances and walked away with her daughter.
The small legs that whisked back and forth in the open space of the vehicle were full of energy. The young girl spent the day with the two people she admired the most. A bigger version of herself sat in the passenger seat with her husband driving next to her. They laughed over conversation. Every so often, the girl would stick thin fingers against her mother’s shoulder to receive her attention. She would say something trivial and obvious, but her mother would still entertain her. She absorbed every phrase her daughter said as if each filled her with a tremendous joy and was the greatest thing ever spoken. Her mother had selected a black dress for her today with a large white ribbon tied around her midsection. Her hair had been combed back in two braids so that the tips were touching her shoulder blades. They were coming home late from a Christmas party at church.
It was a dark cold night in December. Opening the door to their house, the den sat quiet as usual, but something else was different. Walking to the living room, I did not hear a voice that always greeted me with joy. There was no room for joy, or laughter anymore. When I sat down, my Pa Pa’s bed sat across from me. I could see the bones through his skin, the bagginess of his white t-shirt, and the sadness that rest in his eyes. On his lips, a smile no longer lived. “Hi Pa Pa”, I say as I walked over to k...
Our eyes locked, as tears streamed down her sullen face. She was a petite woman with heavy dark eyes, revealing her struggle, her pain, and a hope for a better life. She cradled her infant gently, yet firmly as if it was her last breath. With every sway, she kissed her child’s head as a promissory note that she would take care of her and provide for her the world.
a dull grey colour as if it had lost the will to live and stopped