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Sudden Death Canasta
All eyes were focused on me. This was it. The tension had been building up to this point, and I knew there was no way out. I had gotten myself into this predicament, and I was the only one that could get myself out of it. There was nobody to turn to, for they were all waiting for my final move. I had never felt so alone, so isolated.
I thumbed through my cards for the fourth consecutive time, and I could still not decide which one to throw. I glanced up from my cards and caught a glimpse of each player. I immediately felt the intensity of my brother's eyes glaring at me from across the table. He did not provide me with the support and reassurance I was looking for from my partner. I shifted my eyes to the right. My mother, having just discarded a five of clubs and seeing that it was of no use to me, was sipping coffee with a carefree grin of relief. Then I peered directly at the most intimidating canasta player I have ever encountered. Great Grandma Rose was calmly humming a tuneless tune which added to her enigma. As this crafty eighty-eight year old lady squinted at her cards through her bifocals, I knew that time was running out; I had to make my decision. The most obvious choice was to discard the king of spades for which I had no use, but I was afraid that she was waiting for this card. My alternative was to break up my meld and throw the six of clubs, a card which I felt somewhat safe in throwing.
In the midst of my despair, great grandma delivered the final blow. She stopped humming and uttered these dreaded words: "It only hurts for a minute."
She could not have dug a knife any deeper. My brother's eyes were flaring with tension, I had complete control over his fate, and I knew our team unity was riding on the outcome of my decision. I therefore decided to play defensively and throw the six of clubs. No sooner had my discard settled on top of the pile than my great grandmother's hand darted out to snatch up the stack of cards and my brother simultaneously belted out a scream. "The six of clubs?
My breath was heavy as I was sprinting from them. I could hear them on my tail. But the only this that was racing through my mind was “I have the book.”
“A stronger light pressed upon my nerves, so that I was obliged to shut my eyes. Darkness then came over me,
As a student that is currently seeking a career in the medical professions, I have had to routinely contemplate my reasons for pursuing such an extensive education program in a field that is constantly demanding excessive time and effort. I know of students—many friends and acquaintances of mine included—that have the most sure-fire, inspirational stories that align with their desire to become doctors, surgeons, physician assistants, etc. They always seemed to have a story that emphasized their desire to “give back” what they have received from the medical community. Because of that, ever since the beginning of high school, I have been trying to find an extraordinary reason, a purpose for my medical pursuits. Perhaps I could justify my passion for
What are the circumstances that brought you to apply for the foundation emergency fund scholarships?
Writing a self-reflective tirade is perhaps one of the most difficult tasks to perform. I have found myself pondering this topic for an unusually long time; no one has ever asked me to write about my culture-- the one thing about myself which I understand the least. This question which is so easy for others to answer often leads me into a series of convoluted explanations, "I was born in the U.S., but lived in Pakistan since I was six. My brothers moved to the US when I was thirteen" I am now nearly twenty, which means I have spent half my life being Pakistani, the other half trying to be American, or is the other way around?
It has always been my greatest ambition to become a college graduate. In order to achieve that goal I have strived to cultivate the various talents with which I have been blessed.
Euthanasia is a private decision that has to be made in unbearable times. It also is a controversial topic in which people on both sides seem to want their will put on the rest of society. One thing we have to keep in mind here is unless you are facing the decision yourself than it is very difficult to say what should happen.
Euthanasia can be defined as the following: “the intentional killing by act or omission of a dependent human being for his or her alleged benefit.” The key word here, obviously, is “intentional.” If the death is not intentional, it is not an act of euthanasia. Euthanasia can be voluntary as well as non-voluntary. The most recent case we have heard of in the news dealing with euthanasia is the Terri Schiavo case. In Schiavo’s case, the fact that the doctors took out her feeding tube was a non-voluntary form of euthanasia. Rather than having her own consent, her husband made the decision, making it non-voluntary. Her husband believed it was the best choice for her because she was in a vegetated state for over fifteen years. (Hentoff) But many people do not agree with his decision. They argue against legalizing euthanasia in itself.
I can see myself-I see both of them, drifting away from me while I stand there. Watching. And I don’t know what to do about it’”(147). He is losing everyone important in his life for the fourth time. He has lost his mother, his father figure, his eldest son, and now his wife and youngest child are drifting farther away than he feels he is able to reach.
Into this bleak vision of loneliness, the brief excitement of recognising a face in the crowd ‘There I ...
The members of the Committee on Admissions seek to gain an understanding of you as a person through a written essay. This essay is your opportunity to discuss an idea that is important to you, to write about a person who has influenced you, or to describe an experience that has helped shape who you are. The committee is also interested in how you think and how you express your thoughts.
Looking at the window she uttered softly, “Well if you must know, she's headed for the Volterra Lunatic Asylum. Now, that you know I demand you to leave me now and go to your place.” Tears went down my cheeks as I ran to my room. I was restless and could not stop for a minute.
“‘What if the old Countess should reveal her secret to me?’ He thought the following evening as he wandered through the streets of Pittsburg. ‘What if she should tell me the names of those three winning card’s? Why not try my luck. . .? Become introduced to her, try to win her favour, perhaps become her lover. . .? But all that demands time, and she’s eighty-seven; she might die in a week, in two days. . .! And the story itself. . .? Can one really believe it. . . ? No! Economy, moderation and industry; these are my three winning cards, these ...
College Admissions: The Outreach Program. The Panuluyan was a real eye-opener for me. It made me become aware of the things, which I normally take for granted. It was so surprising to see how little they have, yet at the same time they cherish each little blessing they receive and they never cease to be grateful for what is given to them.
They were all out enjoying themselves, meeting up every day for various things and while I was invited to a few, I never could fully let go. I wanted to, believe me, I did. Though the stress, the anxiety, the anticipation seemed to eat away at me. Grasping onto me for dear life, feeding on my every thought of the paper it constantly reminded me of. This… being, this Thing only I could feel the weight of, gripping onto my back, its breath uncomfortably directed onto my neck, ensuring I was always aware of its existence.