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Recommended: Road rage issues
Driving through torrential rain was very torturous. The rain thumped
on the bonnet and the wind whistled along the curves of the car. The
trees were waving frantically in the wind as if to attract the
attention of passing cars. Like the night, the winding country road
grew longer and longer, darker and darker with every passing hour. The
bright headlights pushed back the darkness, which immediately returned
to haunt the rear of the car. The darkness seeps into the car and
hangs heavily over the back seat.
Twenty one year old Natalie had just passed her driving test and this
was the first time she was driving back from university by herself.
Natalie was quiet relaxed driving through the night, occasionally
leaning forward to peer through the window screen to have a better
view of the road ahead. Moving the dial across the radio stations
Natalie came across a familiar tune. She started tapping her fingers
on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. Suddenly the music
stopped and then a man’s voice on the radio announced, “This is an
urgent news bulletin”. He mentioned that a lunatic had escaped from
prison. Natalie switches the radio off and picks up her mobile phone.
She rings home “Hello dad, how are you.” “Yeah, I should be home in
three hours. The weather is atrocious so I have to be careful I just
thought I’d let you know I’m on the A50 and should be home by 10:30.”
“I love you dad, give my love to mum, bye.”
In her own way, anxious Natalie gave her father details of her route
without making her father worried.
As she put her phone down, the phone slips and lands on the front
passenger side and starts making a loud an...
... middle of paper ...
...atalie with his six-foot bony body. His eyes and cheek were
sunken and although he was some distance from away from Natalie, she
stepped backwards worriedly. “Y-y-you are n-n-not s-sup suppose t-t-to
b-be here”. “Sorry I'm just going back to my car ”Natalie replies as
she circles around him and out the door. Natalie walks briskly towards
her car without looking back. “W-what did y-y-you w-w-want ?”. “Oh
nothing” Natalie said without stopping or looking round. She hurriedly
gets in the car and immediately looks the door. Starting the car
Natalie decides to continue till the next garage. As she pulls off the
attendant starts to bang her car window frantically. Natalie panicks
and says “please leave me alone” and speeds off faster further
damaging the burst tyre.
“Th-th- there is s—s-someone in th-the b-b-back s-seat”.
I was sitting with my friend, Pistol on one of the bucking shoots watching the barrel race.
O’Connor himself wasn’t partially physically intimidating. This fact became abundantly clear once he stepped off his chair and approached me. While not necessarily short in stature, his seat gave him an extra few inches compared to his natural stance.
H - Sure, D.B. I am doing o.k., just don’t forget that you said I could drive the jag. Bye
encouraged. I will be able
The previous week they had performed the spell successfully. After contacting Mordred, Merlin and Morgana had arranged to meet him and Aglain, the leader of the druid camp, in the woods near a small waterfall, halfway between Camelot and the grave of Gorlois. Morgana always went on her annual pilgrimage to her father's tomb at this time of the year, at the end of spring.
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
“Four seconds left in the game, the Tri-county Patriots are down by a touchdown. The Patriots just broke the huddle. They are lined up for the last play of the game. Star quarterback, Leonard Watson, takes the snap, he looks to throw… and he tucks it! He’s got some room, and blockers… The 30, the 20, the 10! Touchdown Patriots! There is no time left on the clock, the Patriots win! Another victory for the Tri-county High Patriots, and another amazing night for Leonard Watson!”
fact, it's twelve o'clock and I am free for the afternoon. As usual, I sit in
As soon as the door closed, and Jace was finally at last gone, Clary immediately sprang to her feet and locked the door. Tears had all ready formed at the corner of her eyes, before she ran towards the pretty canopy bed, and fell down upon its soft, gentle surface and sobbed as if her heart would break. Inside, she was completely devastated. She began to wonder just what exactly had minute, she'd been at home, relaxing in the bright, warm golden sun, working on a brand new painting, and the next, she was off riding into the deep, dark woods with Wayfarer following her father's very trail, and they'd stumbled upon the mysterious dark castle, and the final moment she was trading her life for her father's in order to save him.
Clint had gone to school the same way every time so he thought he would go a different way. He followed a main road and then took a new side passage that he had wondered about before. Through this side passage he came across an abandoned street, he started to walk down when he noticed that his shadow wasn't making the same movements he was. Clint rubbed his eyes and then his shadow was mimicking him again. He then decided that he would go the normal way to school like usual. Once he arrived at school he talked to his friend Zac about the abandoned street and if he had ever been there. Zac replied with " No I would never go down such a dangerous looking street, you're basically asking to get mugged" "Do you want to go down that street on the
One of the things I've seen is that the vast majority does not take a seat. They come in, get their beverage and go. The ones that take a seat stay any longer than it takes to devour their beverage. The beverage is only an accidental buy. Surely not the reason they arrive. Large portions of the general population who come in as a gathering are grinning when they enter. Half the same number of is grinning when they clear out. Individuals who come in alone commonly aren't grinning by any stretch of the imagination. There were a greater number of gentlemen than young ladies sitting without anyone else's input, and the general population who were talking in gatherings of a few were for the most part young ladies. The vast majority who strolled
For my first piece of original writing I intend to create a piece primarily written for entertainment however, I also want to portray an interest into historical and political persuasions. I aim to write this piece for an audience of teenagers to young adult who are aged from around fifteen to twenty-five and are male, I also wish to identify with those interested in political thrillers within this age range. The genre of which shall be a short fiction story consisting chiefly of narrative and written in the third person. I picture this piece as being one of a collection of short stories concerned with the political-thriller fiction sub-genre. Despite being a fiction text I aim to tie in real world non-fiction.
attire stood up and with her little boy in tow, took a deep breath and
November 25, 2012. That day, or should I say night that changed everything. My best friend/sister of six years decided she no longer wanted to be friends with me. She looked me in the eye and said, “It’s just not the same.” Most people would say that’s not such a big deal, it happens all the time. In most situations it wouldn’t have been a big deal but that night I would soon realize that my life was going to spiral out of control and I was going to witness a domino effect like no other.
In the twelve years I was in school, I learn three forms of writing, essay, letters, and stories. My favorite form of writing is creative writing. My least favorite is writing a letter. The reason I prefer creative writing over the other, form is because I have the freedom to make up anything. The reason I dislike writing letter is because many letters have different formats. For example, I can’t uses the friendly letter format on a business letter; I would have to use block format. Even though I prefer creative writing, my most commonly used skill is to write essays. Though, I may find essay writing a chore, I still prefer it over letter writing. Among these books I still read The Odyssey and Macbeth, for inspiration.