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Importance of communication in crisis
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I walked down the hall of Raymond Academy. I walked down until Faith grabbed me by the arm. I spun around and she dragged me into the nearest room. "What is going on?" I asked when she closed the door. "So? Are you going to tell me where this came from." She asked holding an envelope up. " Niro, what is that?" My voice sounded tired and confused.
I gave her another quick look of confusion. before she started to open the envelope. I tried to read the back since I had no idea what it was since I had just grabbed the mail this morning and threw it in my bag which I had planned to read later. I watched as she pulled the letter out of the envelope. She cleared her throat and started to read.
"Hey! Since I knew I wouldn't get a chance to do this in person since I'm in the center of pandemonium (a.k.a studying for Finals) I was hoping you would come to my graduation in 2 weeks. I know it's short notice, but I just wanted to see you there since I didn't get to graduate alongside my beautiful girlfriend this year. I know that you hate it, but that's who you are. My beautiful, loving, kind, compassionate, strong, brave, and courageous girlfriend. " She peeked up at me, shocked for a second, and then continued to read.
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I knew he was really bad at keeping these things to himself but that is beside the point. The real point is that I really hope that you join me on such an important day. I know this probably made you blush and that Brandon's about to kill me if you're reading this near him. I just know it means more to me than it should for you to be there. I know it isn’t your favorite place; nevertheless I'll save you a seat." She finished, pulling the letter down revealing my extremely red
I also don't own the idea, it was requested to me by the wonderful Amanda. Thank you so much! I hope I did this idea justice.
Daniel gazed at her and sighed, “Look, I promised myself I would not date, not until after I got passed college and the part of my life I should have completed years ago. But I met you and I broke that promise so I could get you before someone else does”.
At the same time: Snap-Whoosh-Growl-Snap-Whoosh-Growl! Return with a fierceness, causing the rest of the men to separate into two groups with some moving to the left in search of the origin of the beastly sounds and the others moving to the right, combining their numbers with those searching for their missing brethren, while Gottlieb stays behind.
I'm currently walking along a long and barren road approaching a small forest. Of course, no one would recognize where I am. Of course not I'm obviously somewhere where even I wouldn't recognize, thrown into a place against my own will. I guess I can blame my own hubris for this one. “HEY I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUCKING FUN, don't be a condescending asshole.”
There once was a water droplet named Raine, she was thousands of years old. Her routine consisted of going through the water cycle, she got to see new things each day and explore. Sometimes she ended up in the same place, but most of the time she got to see new things. In this story you are going to hear about one day when Raine went to Fruitvale.
The first stop was Monica’s class room. We walked through the never ending hallway, searching for Monica’s classroom like detectives on a mission to find a key to the unknown door. We found the Monica’s classroom and dropped her off. The next stop was mine. I found myself getting more nervous each step, I toke. Suddenly my mom and my dad stopped walking and told me that this was my classroom.
[RILEY mutters curses under her breath, but stopped once hearing another foot of footsteps. RILEY mutters even more.
I slowly opened the door to my closet not sure of what I was going to encounter. I was hoping Narnia would be at the other end but at the opening of the door I heard stuff rumble and fall. Scared to see what was happening behind the door I took a deep breath in and knew what I was going to face was going to be no joke. There it was, all the clothes, shoes, toys, blankets, and paperwork at my feet. Everything was stacked up beginning to fall like my life as soon as I opened the closet. Slowly inhaling and exhaling I knew this was going to be a difficult task to accomplish but not impossible.
Six years ago, My Mom, Dad, Sister and I started fostering a kitten named Buttercup, then named her Stella after we adopted her. Buttercup was her old name, along with her sister Butterscotch and brother Butterball. My family and I loved Stella. Stella is my version of a living treasure, even with her flaws I wouldn’t change anything about her. She's sweet, loving, and gives me someone to talk to who doesn’t criticize. She was my world, and still is. Stella has pure vanilla white hair, chocolatey-brown spots, and yellow eyes like sunflowers. Now she is six years old and I hope she stays with me for a long time. I’ll tell this story starting at the beginning at my house in Atlanta, Georgia, the place where I grew up.
Jack Smith was a retired Physics Professor when I met him. He was a tall, thin man with straight fair hair and brown eyes. He was in my city for a touristic visit and I was his guide for two weeks. It was the second week and his story began with a simple question. I saw some scars on his left arm and I asked him how those scars happened.
Today can easily be described as one of the most interesting yet unlucky days of my short life. I am on a stranded island. Alone. No parents, adult supervisors like the ones from our school, no, well, civilization. All I can think about is my family, and the few close friends I had back home.
Razack does a tremendous job in this script of painting a picture of a concept that brings the reader directly into the project and how she wants it to be visualized. Included in her action descriptions are the camera angles that bring this war to life, along with the hectic situations that the characters get involved. As a result, the character and dialogue come together to combine cultural dialogue with fiery, charismatic Irish characters one would envision in a storyline of this magnitude. Niall’s ascension from son to man of the house to the in the wake of his father’s death, shows the audience what an oppressed Catholic man in these times of war looked. Where his mother used to have authority over him, when he asked her to be silent during
Jame’s eyes jerked open. What happened!? thought Jame. “Wake up! Wake up Jame!” said Adelicia as she shook him. Jame quickly sat up and blushed. “What’s wrong?”, he said as he rubbed his eyes. “The principal wants you in his office!” Jame suddenly woke up fully, “Why?”
Placing the letter in an envelope, I cried a bit. Ivy asked me what was wrong; I just brushed her off. It’s not that I didn’t want to answer her, it was just that I couldn’t answer her.
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).