It had been a succesfull raid to be sure and Booth was more than happy with his share of the spoils. He had just overseen the sale of the stolen goods and had devided the money, so that every man got an equal share. Well of course not every man. He was the Captain and it was his ship. So of course he got more than the others. It was only fair, since he endured most of the risks. His small leather pouch rocked gently from his belt with a reassuring metallic clicking sound to it, as he walked down the street. Behind him with a leash around her neck, a woman walked - or rather stumpled - after him, her hands tied together in front of her. He had just one more stop, before he too could enjoy the town like his crewmen already were. Booth turned a corner and smiled, when he saw the brothel ahead. Then the smile vanished, when he saw Blake in front of it. "You know the rules, Blake. There is no use arguing about it." His tone was dismissive and Blake's shoulders fell. "But Captain, she is not like the others... I genuinely care for this one! Please just let me take her somewhere else. Can't you see, she is injured??" …show more content…
Booth looked the woman up and down with disinterest.
It was true that she had endured some physical abuse whilst the crew had had their way with her the last couple of days, but he turned back towards his crewman with a slight shrug. "No more than she will have to get used to here," he answered and started leading the crying woman through the door. "You knew the rules, Blake. If you had cared for her, you would not have brought her aboard my
ship." - <3 - <3 - <3 - <3 - The night was near, when Booth finally exited the brothel - again a little richer, than when he entered. The owner had been so happy with the condition of this woman that Booth had brought, that he had offered him both dinner and some female companionship to go along with the payment. Booth flexed his tired muscles and went down an alley that lead back to the docks. Most of his men would spend the night in town and some wouldn't show up on the ship again for a couple of days, but Booth prefered the gentle rocking of the waves, when he was going to sleep. He couldn't point a finger to, what it was that drew his attention to the small shop - tucked away in the alley. Maybe it was just because it was still open, so late in the evening? Maybe he had seen a pair of curiuos eyes for a fraction of a second? None the less he found himself entering. He was used to following his instincts and he knew that he could hardly loose more than time, if he found nothing of interest in there.
Anders had conceived his own towering hatred of the teller, but he immediately turned it on the presumptuous crybaby in front of him. “Damned unfair,” he said. “tragic, really. If they’re not chopping off the wrong leg, or bombing your ancestral village, they’re closing their positions.”
As Blake headed towards The Rose Club she saw an enormous line ahead and knew that the place would be packed. Derek would be impossible to find. She decided to call in a favor and went right up to the front of the line and said
“Be tough on yourself.” She should essentially beat herself up and explain to him how she “was tortured about how she’d acted” (Wallace, para 5).
“Wait.” Daniel reached across the table and took her hand. “You are special and deserve the best. Please don’t forget that. You deserve to be treated with love and respect no matter what. Never settle for less.”
Well don’t we get the reward money since we captured him? (Then turns to the boys and says) I think I should get 75% of the money, since I was so courageous and did most the capturing.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
A thick plume of black smoke and ash hung in the air in a heavy haze, almost completely obscuring the lurid red glow of the waning sun. Below, a cloud of grey plaster dust twisted and writhed amid the sea of debris as intermittent eddies of wind gusted by.
Samson began to laugh softly, "I am very familiar with that case. She took that issue to court and she won declaring it was sexual discrimination. She got her job back you know." It was at that point where Mr. Billard's face went blank. He had nothing else to say.
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
Joan spoke. She moved bits of Daisy’s hair, making sure she can’t see any infections. “I think you need to see a doctor,” she carried on. There was seriousness in her voice, which made Daisy realize that the wound on the back of her head was in bad condition. “I know a doctor who is here; maybe he can take a look for me.”
Wenona had not hoped in vain, for her lover was with her, and Wanska seemed to be forgotten. The warrior's flute would draw her out from her uncle's lodge while the moon rose o'er the cold waters. Wrapped in her blanket, she would hasten to meet him, and listen to his assurances of affection, wondering the while that she had ever feared he loved another. She had been some months at the village of Markeda, and she went to meet her lover with a heavy heart.
Right, the same. She felt her dress. Nothing at all. Running back to the ship, she yelled at the top of her weak lungs, “Wait! Please!”
Habits of the Creative Minds is a simple textbook with a particular twist. I began reading the book thinking it was going to be a basic textbook, but the author,Richard E. Miller and Ann Jurecic, changed the tone of the book and put it into a metaphor. This metaphor was about the reader in your writing, or for anyone reading should feel like Alice in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. The reader should be reading, and figuratively fall into the reading, by this the authors means the reader should not want to put that book down. They should be engulfed in the book and read from cover to cover. The attention must be maintained and the best way to do this is by making the writing unique. The authors of this book puts
“I’m sorry, sir,” Jarvis said in a commiserating tone. Sergeant Barnes then reached across the table and rested his hand on the commander’s forearm saying, “They’re going to be just fine, sir. A lot of people are on the move right now, people have gone into hiding. If your wife is anything like you, she’s probably already leading your children and a hundred other people’s children to safety.”
Second, when the soldiers came to his home to question him he lied to them. When the soldiers came to search his home, and ask him questions about where booth went, he told them a big long story. Then he sent them on a wild chase in the opposite direction from where Booth was really going.