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The Little Mermaid summary
The Little Mermaid summary
The Little Mermaid summary
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“It’s a lovely day at the beach the tides are low, and the sand resembled sparkling diamonds” Amy said. The problem was that Amy saw this view a million times, see Amy lives in a shack nearby the beach. This seems to be like a backyard of a standard house, in Amy’s eyes. Luckily, this day was no ordinary day for Amy. The day started off typical, until the winds were high. Amy’s brown hair flew through her face, the waves extended. Amy just about to leave until she heard the whimsical sound that seem to be soothing her. She knew it was right to go back home, yet she was mesmerized by the sounds. The noise got louder and louder by the minute Amy lingered. Then the wave suddenly came toward her, this made Amy collapse. A few minutes later, the tides were low and a supernatural creature seemed to lay next to Amy. The creature then had said “ hi I’m Jelly, and are you okay tiny human”. …show more content…
She had stood up and looked around if it was the same beach she saw every day. Amy analyzed the creature and said hesitantly “I’m okay…. Jelly”. Suddenly, Amy remembered a scene from the Little Mermaid when Ariel met Eric after she saved him. Amy thought the exact same scene is what happened to her. Amy first asks Jelly with an inquiring glance “Are you a mermaid”. Jelly nodded, saying “absolutely, as long as you believe I am”. Amy then thought how mermaid were magical and should be kept a secret. Undoubtedly, Amy decided to hide Jelly. Amy believed the best place to hide Jelly would be the shack since it has lots of space and can protect
She secretly hopes that her aunt and cousin will give her other few surprises. She also hopes that her aunt will really appreciate the drawing. The morning of Christmas Ellen was disappointed when she only received the pack of white paper. Later that night she over heard her aunt telling her daughter that even though the painting is silly and cheap looking they must pretend to appreciate it. She was crushed because earlier that morning her aunt had pretended to really like it.
The foamy wavelets curled up to her white feet and coiled like serpents about her ankles. She walked out. The water was chill but she walked on. The water was deep, but she lifted her white body and reached out with a long, sweeping stroke. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.
In both Hans Christian Andersons “The Little Mermaid,” and Disney’s version of the story, the main character— a young and beautiful mermaid— waits anxiously for her fifteenth birthday to venture from her father’s underwater castle to the world above the water. As the story carries on the mermaids priorities change; her modest and selfless nature is revealed towards the end in Andersen’s version. However, Disney’s version encompasses a rather shallow ending and plot throughout. The theme found in comparing the two versions reveal that Andersen’s substance trumps Disney’s entertainment factor in fairy tales.
As well as feeding the seaweed to Squilliam instead of squidward. As Squidward awakens, his mind is clear; no longer is he under the seaweeds spell, his love to Squilvia returns once more.Squilliam wakes up with the sight of Sandy Cheeks in front of him and instantly falls in love. Karen awakes from what she thought was just a dream. King Jellyfish tells her over a magnificent feast how everything she experienced was real. Strangely, Karen completely understands why he did it and decides to reconcile over a movie after
Johnny Moore woke up in a state of ecstatic stupor, it was the first day of summer after all. He had just finished the 8th grade and he was going to make the most out this summer, it was the last one he had with all his friends until they moved away to different schools. But for now, he wasn’t going to worry about that; he was just going to enjoy the ride and not worry about the destination. As Johnny got ready for the day, the sun continued to climb into the sky, encompassing the small Massachusetts town of Elmridge in a golden hue, a still heat in the air. It wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t cool, it was just right. The sun seemed to know what an important day this was for all school kids and wanted to give them the perfect first day of summer.
Life is more interesting when doing things that are not done on a daily basis. For me, going to an opera is very rare; in fact I have never gone to one until January 31, 2016. The name of it is called Rusalka , an Italian opera. There were many intriguing moments during the opera, which caught my attention even more. From the live intensifying music of the orchestra to the tragic storyline, I loved every bit of it.
I watched Amy and Russ take off, leaving me with a giant. The creepy looking animal caused a shiver to fall down my spine. In fear, I gulped, but then heard a voice yelling at me.
Often times individuals bypass drastic events in life, that changes the course of events among their perception of distinct situations. What had once been a previous viewpoint, finds itself transforming into a reverse ideology. A contrasting ideology that has been influenced throughout discrete consequences of reality. Within the course of British poets between 1750-1850, appears to have a recurring theme of a defeat of preserving. A drastic defeat that throughout most cases had been caused by either divorces, depression, or pure rejections.
The Book of Heather Waves crash hard against the walls of my mind. I feel as if I’m drowning and I’m swallowing the saltiness that burns the inside of my lungs. I can let go of myself and disappear into a different world and be a different person if I feel like losing the fight. Then, suddenly my eyes focus back on the word and I immediately realize I’m dry and breathing, in my bed.
It felt like my heart was a hammer against the inside of my chest as the destination got closer. A few minutes passed by and my phone started to sound off, “Incoming call: Mom”, was lit up across my screen, and my heart suddenly dropped. “She knows”, whispered across my mind, I picked up the phone with dread. “Where are you?”
It envelops my skin in a warm embrace as if it hadn't seen me in ages. A glistening sheen of sweat cools my shirtless torso, highlighting the contours of my body. Running my hands through my salty hair, I look out to the majestic and mysterious body of water before me, wondrously blue. I listen to the steady, rhythmical crashing of the waves; the rustling of the palm leaves in the wind; the calls of the birds, soaring through
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.
We were so hot because it took us almost an hour to find a place to set our stuff. The beach was packed that day, and wherever we went, we’d either be too close to the water, too far away from the water, or very close to another person’s set up. I looked over to the shiny, dark blue water. I just wanted to jump in and let the waves take me away. I nudged my mom and smiled.
... she had to get home and through the fog of her emotions she found herself parked outside her house. She waited, too afraid to move as the feelings of disbelief and dread expanded itself beside her.
“Quiet!” I yelled without realizing that my thoughts were vocalized. He pulled back and stared at me as if I were some whacko, needless to say the look was returned. A quick awkward expression and a not so melodious cry ended the moment. Now, the only sounds we heard other than the heavy breathing of us both was the zooming of passing vehicles. As I licked over my dry lips I recognized the taste of sweat in my mouth, kissing his neck I guessed. As he got up and scooted to ‘his side’ of the van I scratched my head noting that my hair felt like shit. Relaxed hair need not get sweaty; I felt the naps I tried so hard to conceal creeping back into the roots of my follicles. No ‘good’ hair here. His eyes were closed and I could see the moon reflecting light off of his caramel-complexioned skin.