Chapter 1
On a farm 7 miles south and 1 mile east of Crete was a meadow. In that meadow there had never been any buildings on the ground or animals penned within the fences. In the middle of the meadow ran a wet area which wildlife stayed away from. The wet area was QUICKSAND! This was not typical quicksand that you see in the movies which a person steps onto and slowly sinks into the muck. This was real quicksand. If you stepped out in it, you fell below the soil into a murky underwater path of cold, dark water. There was nothing to grab onto and if you stepped on it, you didn’t have time to grab anything. If you fell in, your best bet was to hold your hand up and wave it around hoping that someone would put a branch in the water so you can pull yourself out of the quicksand.
A husband and wife who were recently married lived on a farm down the hill and a bit towards Crete. They owned the farm and the meadow up the hill. The wife was a school teacher in Beatrice and the husband worked in Crete at the Mill. Don and Violet were the farmers who farmed the farm and cut the hay on that farm since 1965.
The meadow had lush green grass with native flowers and grasses. These were the grasses that Native Americans saw 175 years ago. The ground was pristine with one exception. There was a large rock about 20 feet from the quicksand. The farmer, Don had to swerve around it to cut hay. If Donnie didn’t swerve around the rock enough, he caught his disk on the rock. He had to have his disk sharpened many times because the rock ruined the end disk.
The farmer talked to the owner and asked if the extremely large, rose colored rock could be removed from the meadow. Gary said he would try to move the rock with his ...
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...rank from their bird bath. The house was still sturdy and reflected it’s spirit.
Chapter 5
The wife could see Gary’s truck lights return in the dim light as his truck crawled up the hill. The wife wondered if she should run or stand. She wondered if her husband always drove so slowly or if the luminous beings slowed him down. An eerie fog was creeping in. The fog seemed unnatural for the time of year. It was too dry to have a fog. The wife wondered if she was loosing her mind. Gary finally was turning into the meadow. The luminous shapes were between her and the truck. The wife stood still.
Finally, the lights hit the whitish shapes and the wife realized that the shapes she thought might be ghosts were actually plastic sacks floating in the wind. Gary jumped out of the truck and said to his wife, “You look like you have seen a ghost, what’s up?”
[ 9.1 ] Based on your hypothesis, if you cleared an area in the center of the rock face, do you predict that Semibalanus will settle in the new open space (i.e., will any land and attach to the rock in that space)? Why or why not?
The "Fog" reveals, illuminates, widens, and intensifies; it gives sight. There is a pleasing poetic irony in Clampitt’s ability to render so present to the mind’s eye precisely what the eyes themselves cannot see at all. " A vagueness comes over everything, / as though proving color and contour / alike dispensable" (Clampitt 610). As things disappear, "the lighthouse extinct, / the islands’ spruce-tips drunk up like milk in the universal emulsion; / houses reverting into the lost and forgotten," the experience of the vanishing develops (610).
Before Aunt Ivy had a chance to send Hattie to the boarding school, Hattie received a letter stating that her Uncle Chester had passed away. It also said that she was to inherit his 320-acre property in Montana if she would fulfill the remaining homestead requirements in order to keep it. The homestead req...
In the second stage, the cave dweller can now see the objects that previously only appeared to him as shadows. “Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer th...
Many people think that reading more can help them to think and develop before writing something. Others might think that they don’t need to read and or write that it can really help them to brainstorm things a lot quicker and to develop their own ideas immediately (right away). The author’s purpose of Stephen King’s essay, Reading to Write, is to understand the concepts, strategies and understandings of how to always read first and then start something. The importance of this essay is to understand and comprehend our reading and writing skills by brainstorming our ideas and thoughts a lot quicker. In other words, we must always try to read first before we can brainstorm some ideas and to think before we write something. There are many reasons why I chose Stephen King’s essay, Reading to Write, by many ways that reading can help you to comprehend, writing, can help you to evaluate and summarize things after reading a passage, if you read, it can help you to write things better and as you read, it can help you to think and evaluate of what to write about.
Larsen, Nella. Quicksand ; And, Passing. Ed. Deborah E. McDowell. Blacksburg, VA.: Wider Publications, 2010. Print.
In the short story “The Reach,” Stephen King addresses the fact that in life there is a constant fear of death, but when confronted with it is easier to accept when someone has seen many deaths and knows that they are dying themselves. The narrator of the story knows that she is dying and, being an elder, has seen many deaths. We reach this conclusion when she questions the love she has for others and no longer cries when others die around her anymore. She has seen many deaths in the years and can only accept that death is inevitable and a part of life. Mostly everyone she grew up with has passed on already.
For this paper I have watched the movies 12 Years a Slave and Secrets and Lies. The first film I mentioned is about slavery in the 19th century in America starring Chiwetel Ejiofor as Northup Solomon. It’s actually based on the novel of Northup Solomon, a citizen of the middle class. He has written this novel after years of slavery. He was a black man who was kidnapped and afterwards got sold as a slave. Northup has already got a wife and two children when he gets kidnapped. Before he gets into slavery, he has been working as a violinist and lives in New York with his small family. One day, two men want him to travel with them to Washington and promise him to offer him a job as a musician when they return. He accepts their request and the three men go to Washington. What Northup did not know was that these two men weren’t to offer him a job in return but were to kidnap him. At dinner in Washington, they drug him and then lock him up in a cellar where he also gets chained. A white man first tortures him and calls him Platt, a slave that ran away from Georgia. He asks him about his name and starts beating him because he replies that he’s called Northup and not Platt and that he’s a actually a free man. This white man then takes him to New Orleans by ship where they sell him to William Ford as a slave. He starts working for him but one day an over-seer called John Tibeats attacks him and Northup fights back. After this incident, his owner Ford has to sell him to Edwin Epps because if not, Tibeats will kill him. After working for several years at Epps’ plantation, one day the sheriff comes over to see Northup. He starts asking him questions about his earlier life and as soon as he notices that the given answers are the same with wh...
Saying 12 Years a Slave is a realistic film is an understatement. According to the British film director Steve McQueen, some people did not want the film made. He stated, “Some people want to close their eyes on some subjects. They don’t want to look behind them.” (Aspden 5). Others feel there have been too many films been made about slavery already, such as Roots, Django Unchained, and Amistad. 12 Years a Slave is a true story that needs to be told. In this writer’s opinion, it depicts the abuse of slavery in the United States with more intensity than any other film previously made.
The tube of light came back a couple of seconds after the first one was gone. When the third tube of light came down, Nancy was back downstairs to watch the strange phenomenon with Robbert. They went outside with flashlights to look at the field across t...
Dave started walking home. The winter was the worst time of the year for him. He had tons of paper work, and not enough light to work with. The generator he was able to afford could only power a small wattage of lights and it simply was not enough to work with. My eyes are already bad enough, he thought as he pulled off his glasses to clean the snow from the lenses. Dave readjusted his hat to better cover his face and slid the bifocals back on his nose. Snow crunched under his feet as he trudged home. It was a particularly dead night and not even the moon dared to show his face. He had no car's headlights to light his path. All he had was the occasional street lamp, ...
Immediately, I angled my position and went for a dead sprint toward the water. I jumped off the cliff. I never felt anything like it; the trajectory had me flying through the air for longer than I expected. A surge of adrenaline pulsed through my body, bringing a new sense of life to me. The scorching heat went away as gravity pulled my body toward the water, bringing me a pleasant breeze through my fall. Then, I finally hit the water. I didn’t stick a solid landing, as I went head first into the water. I panicked and opened my eyes under the murky water, only to see nothing but dirt and sediments float around me. I kept sinking and saw a monstrous fish swim right in front of my face. At that very moment, my body went into overdrive, and I managed to project myself back up to the surface.
...ck, turning over as he went. The rock bounded twice and was lost in the forest. Piggy fell forty feet and landed on his back across that square, red rock in the sea.” (Golding pg. 200-201)
a dull grey colour as if it had lost the will to live and stopped
I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be seeing these long finger shaped shadows that stretched out to me. I had this gut feeling as though something was following me, but I assured myself that I was the only one in the forest. At least I had hoped that I was.