Sprinting as if the world was about to end, we bashed the down the doors and ran. The whip cackled ceaselessly as we escaped. With an advantageous fifteen second head start, we dashed to Miss Hitcher’s emergency row-boat while hearing heavy footsteps not far behind us. When the rope removed itself, we desperately paddled, despite being in exhaustion and anxiety of getting caught. My life was a bubble; I was confined in a cage, suffocating from the scars impaired from my past, until then. The last fragments of her memory she gathered was a deafening scream. It was the middle of winter, in the blackening hour. The ship shook turbulently. The windows shattered violently- cardboard boxes swayed through the starboard and the port, while fruits ricochet across the dining room. The roaring wind and the malicious thunder competed over each other. There was no escape from the malevolent waves that tore the ship in two. Hazel screamed for help until she lost consciousness. The sun gleamed and the water gently washed the delicate sand. The scenery was full of exuberant colours, despite the superfluous building that looked stripped bare; the island looked as mystical as a fantasy. There were hushing trees with an enchanted aura, and placid harmonies from the tropical birds above. A flashback of her father leaped in her mind. Unable to have access to the rest of her memories, it confused her to have unconsciously landed on a mystical island. Hazel looked around the province until her left eye marked a small hut about fifty metres away. As she approached the hut, there was an adolescent boy who sung foreign songs aloud until he was caught by an older woman; she identical to a mad hatter despite her flamboyant fedora. The woman relentlessly ... ... middle of paper ... ...on of freedom. The boat received a free ride from the courtesy of the waves. Soon the world of silhouettes collapsed on them as they were manipulated to feel lethargic, by the deep trance of the wind. The next morning, the two awoke, puzzled to be surrounded by a crowd. Darting over, a familiar face approached Hazel and immediately embraced her with a jubilant expression. “Dad?” Hazel questioned. “Yes Hazel, it’s me. It’s a miracle! After three years vividly searching, we had finally found you,” her father cried. Hazel, Lucy and her father lived peacefully by the ocean while Miss Hitcher had been forced to close her orphanage down and returned the kids to their parents; she had been giving a taste of her own medicine, while she was taken to jail and taken to a psychology centre. From her experience, Hazel has learnt to never stop believing that miracles can happen.
In the story “The shattered Sky”, the author, Kristin Lewis, helps the reader understand what it was like to live through the 1917 Explosion in Halifax Harbor. Lewis does this by grabbing the reader's attention and telling a particular story of someone who witnessed this tragic event. The author paints a picture which gives the reader a good understanding of what’s going on.
“I had been born into a raging ocean where I swam relentlessly, flailing my arms in hope of rescue, of reaching a shoreline I never sighted. Never solid ground beneath me, never a resting place. I had lived with only the desperate hope to stay afloat; that and nothing more. But when at last I wrote my first words in the page, I felt an island rising beneath my feet like the back of a whale”.
But nearly as soon as Marion's dreams of sailing became reality, the reality became a nightmare. On the voyage home, a whale rammed the schooner, ripping the seams and sending water into the hold. Before the schooner went down, the captain, al...
They watched together as the shore increased its monstrous growing, they became use to it all though. They became used to themselves balancing the boat, preventing them from going
And you girls are headed in that direction. It starts out with the fighting, the running away, and the lies. Next come the accusations that everyone in the world is against you. There are the sullen incorporated silences, the feeling sorry for yourselves. And when you’re out on your own, you’ll get pregnant right away or can’t find or keep jobs. SI you’ll start with alcohol and drugs. From there, you get into shoplifting and prostitution and in and out of jails. You’ll live with men who abuse you. And on it goes. You’ll end up like your parents, living off society. In both your cases, it would be pity because Miss Turner and I knew you both when you were little. And you both were remarkable, well behaved youngsters, now you’re going the same route as many other native girls. IF you don’t smarten up, you’ll end up in the same place. Skid
The story showcases the lack of aspirations of a culture. It takes us through the point of view of the children, who think of nothing but entertainment, and through the mind frame of the adults who have resigned their lives to mediocrity. Mrs. Moore proves to be the catalyst that sets alight the imagination of the children. She realizes that by just telling the children that there is something better out there, she will not be able to instill in them a sense of longing; an aspiration to achieve something better in life. She employs keener methods to...
A common person’s knowledge about sea disasters comes from what they have read in books and articles, and what they see on TV and in movies. The average person does not get to experience the fury of a hurricane while on a boat. In order to capture the audience’s attention, consideration to details and vivid descriptions are needed to paint a realistic picture in their minds. For this reason, the stories have to provide all of the intricate details. In The Perfect Storm, the story starts out with a radio call, not a dramatic scene that immediately foreshadows the possibility of danger. Rather than describing the storm and its fury, the only mention of the setting is of the visibility and the height of waves. However, in “The Wreck of the Hesperus”, the poem begins by stating there is a hurricane possible right away. The current weather conditions are pointed out to the reader as shown in the following quote.
From the first day that Hazel and Augustus encountered, the two are practically inseparable. The basis of their relationship ended up being Hazel's beloved book, An Imperial Affliction. She required Augustus to read it and in return, he required her to read the book that was the basis of his favorite game. Hazel related to the character in the book, Anna, because she had a rare blood cancer malignancy. Augustus and Hazel bonded within the book because both of them had a burning desire to determine how the story ended, because the author stopped the book before providing the conclusion on what happened to every one of the characters.
... a glance of Hazel’s life whereby in the last two paragraphs of the story; when John reached out his hand, touching Hazel’s cheek shows their reconciliation, back in Lucan, their home. In fact, it is just the beginning of their story. To summarize, the story in ‘Yesterday’s Weather’ communicates well with readers as they can relate and sometimes identify their lives in the story.
Hazel and her family have problems far beyond what is told in this short story. Her daughter Elo and she have issues that go far back. Elo doesn't say much to her mother anymore after an argument they had over Hazel wearing wigs.
Through metaphors, the speaker proclaims of her longing to be one with the sea. As she notices The mermaids in the basement,(3) and frigates- in the upper floor,(5) it seems as though she is associating these particular daydreams with her house. She becomes entranced with these spectacles and starts to contemplate suicide.
Hazel’s first connection with Augustus was spontaneous. After all the fun things that the two of them did together, I can predict that it is either going to end in a horrible break up, or their cancer is going to take their life early. (And I know it is bad to say that, but a love story like this has to end somehow). The only reason I say this is because Augustus wanted Hazel to practice a eulogy for his funeral, which he thought would be approaching soon. “By the way, will you speak at my funeral?” (Green 257). The twist of fate in this story is that Augustus is now the victim of cancer potentially taking his life, whereas earlier Hazel was in crueler conditions. It is hard to imagine how much pain Hazel is going through, a boy that you fell in love with not too long ago is all of a sudden on his death
It was a cold October afternoon in 1996, and I raced down the stairs and out the front door, in an attempt to avoid my mother's questions of where I was going, with whom, and when I'd be back. I saw my friend Kolin pull up in his rusted, broken-down gray van, and the side door opened as Mark jumped out and motioned for me to come. I was just about to get in when my mother called from the front doorway. She wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to her, so I hopped in pretending I hadn't heard her and told Kolin to drive off.
...e became more and more overcome with suspense and anticipation. Before we plunged to the bottom, we noticed a kayak broken in two pieces. It had been caused by a collision with a boulder, at the bottom of the fall. We were scared to death, because we thought we would hit it and flip over. However, with the help of our fast-thinking and skillful guide, we were able to make it down the fall safely. All the action was over, so we let out a sigh of relief and allowed our nerves to relax.
Fear has taken a hold of every man aboard this ship, as it should; our luck is as far gone as the winds that led us off course. For nights and days gusts beyond measure have forced us south, yet our vessel beauty, Le Serpent, stays afloat. The souls aboard her, lay at the mercy of this ruthless sea. Chaotic weather has turned the crew from noble seamen searching for glory and riches, to whimpering children. To stay sane I keep the holy trinity close to my heart and the lady on my mind. Desperation comes and goes from the men’s eyes, while the black, blistering clouds fasten above us, as endless as the ocean itself. The sea rocks our wood hull back and forth but has yet to flip her. The rocking forces our bodies to cling to any sturdy or available hinge, nook or rope, anything a man can grasp with a sea soaked hand. The impacts make every step a danger. We all have taken on a ghoulish complexion; the absence of sunlight led the weak souls aboard to fight sleep until sick. Some of us pray for the sun to rise but thunder constantly deafens our cries as it crackles above the mast. We have been out to sea for fifty-five days and we have been in this forsaken storm for the last seventeen.