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The light with dark essay
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The Unexpected Visitor It was a rainy night. The dark clouds blocked the moon light from hitting the ground. Down on Earth, the Evergreens and other plants and trees shook violently in the wind. The rain water from above crashed onto them violently. The ground was covered with leaves and broken branches, barely visible during a night like this. There was also a great amount of fog throughout the woods. The huge mountains in the East were barely visible from here. There was a small town nearby, just across the road. The small trees around the houses were being illuminated by the faint lights of the lanterns that were put outside. Everything was silent, for it was late at night. There was a sudden chill in the air, much colder than normal. There was a dark figure behind the trees, as if it was waiting for somebody. And then it raised its head and stared at the house in front of it. It was wearing a hooded cloak, with its face hidden in the darkness. Only two dark red eyes were visible. It lifted its right hand and there was an immediate boom in the air. The thunder had started, and the rain had turned into a blizzard of water. It was there for a few moments, and in the blink of an eye, it was gone. The windows started to shake, slowed down, and shook again. The trees’ branches and twigs were scraping against them. The doors were locked, and the windows sealed shut. The wooden floor would creak every time someone walked over it. The house had one kitchen, two bedrooms, one living room, two baths, and one attic. The owner of the house, Connor Kurt, lay sleeping in the bedroom on the second floor. He was a tall man with dark black eyebrows and a long face. His body was very muscular and had big round eyes. His nose was very poi... ... middle of paper ... ...ng else were exactly the same as his. It was even wearing the exact same clothes. “Who…” And then for him, the world faded into a blank nothingness. It was a beautiful morning, the birds were chirping, and you could feel the calming warmth of the sun outside. The sky was clear, the trees stood still, and the mountains were visible. The whole community was awake. Everyone was out eating breakfast and meeting and talking to each other. Everyone, except for one person. Connor Kurt was still lying on his bed, as calm and happy as ever. He stood up slowly and went to his bathroom to brush his teeth. He changed into his new clothes and looked out his window. Connor could see an unusual pile of dirt on the ground, deep in the forest. There were rocks and grass all over the place. He walked away and to his mirror, where he saw the dark, black gases coming out of him…
Filban said the home had a yard that was overgrown. “The trees and bushes were overgrown, and the house was dark,” Filban said. “And the windows were covered.” She and her sister slept in the front bedroom of the house. She remembers the bedroom having a large, floor-to-ceiling window. She said you could look out and see the wra...
French playwright Albert Camus once said, “Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.” In The Stranger and The Guest the overarching theme that those who do not conform to typical societal values and do not adequately relate to others are appraised as a threat to society as a whole. In both works the protagonists isolate themselves, and society isolates them because of their non-conforming beliefs.
The Stranger is a story narrated by the protagonist of the novel who suffers alienation from himself and the world. The narration of the protagonist is divided into two parts where part one concern the routine affairs of Meursault as it begins with the death of his mother at the Home for the elderly in Marengo. He is unmoved with the death of his mother and do not observe the funeral rituals as this makes him involve in an affair with Marie, an action that makes the society angry. Part one ends when Meursault is involved with Raymond, who beats his girlfriend and colludes with Meursault to write in his defense and to accuse the woman. Eventually, this leads to more fights where the girl’s Arab brother gets in a fight
the trees in the forest. The people of the distant town of Silvery Moon watch
I prepared myself for the upcoming adventurous day. I set out along a less-traveled path through the woods leading to the shore. I could hear every rustle of the newly fallen leaves covering the ground. The brown ground signaled the changing of seasons and nature's way of preparing for the long winter ahead. Soon these leaves would be covered with a thick layer of snow. The leaves still clinging to the trees above displayed a brilliant array of color, simultaneously showing the differences of each and the beauty of the entire forest.
French author and playwright Albert Camus once said, “He who despairs over an event is a coward, but he who holds hope for the human condition is a fool.” In the The Stranger and The Guest this philosophy is expanded on by demonstrating how those who do not conform to society are isolated, and portrayed as a threat to society because of their unique beliefs.
At midnight, Paul went outside and sat on the bench on the old, plank porch. Despite bundling himself in a heavy blanket, he shivered in the cold. The eastern sky before him was dotted with stars, scintillating above the quiet spread of desert. A few lonely clouds were drifting by.
This morning I wake early from the light that creeps underneath my blinds and my bed next to the window. I wake floating on the streams of light, heated, like white wax spilled across the floor, dripping, soft. In bare feet I walk down the stairs, cold on the wood, and find my father in the kitchen, also awake early. Together, we leave the house, the house that my parents built with windows like walls, windows that show the water on either side of the island. We close the door quietly so as not to wake the sleepers. We walk down the pine-needle path, through the arch of trees, the steep wooden steps to the dock nestled in the sea-weed covered rocks. We sit silently on the bench, watch as the fog evaporates from the clear water. The trees and water are a painting in muted colors, silver and grays and greenish blue, hazy white above the trees.
It was about one-thirty in the morning in the town of Homestead Michigan. The almost florescent light of the moon bouncing off the fresh puddles that covered the ground. The grass and trees were covered in a thin layer of water causing every little beam of light to reflect back up. Anyone who may have been outside at this time would have without double, smelled the mix of fresh dirt and night crawlers. As the moonlight started to fade away through the cloud cover, three buses made there way through the streets and parked in front of HHS, the local high school.
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.
It was 1590 in Austria, still in its Age of Belief, and also still in the Middle Ages.
A State Forest & nbsp; Last autumn, while on a trip, I decided to walk through a State Forest. This huge forest enriches the countryside not far from town and was a place where Indians held hunting rights until recently. Little streams, ancient trees, shaded paths, and hidden places are some of the physical attributes that make the State Forest an enchanting place. & nbsp; I wandered leisurely along the shadowy paths, enjoying the peaceful surroundings. With only the songs of birds for company, I felt completely isolated from the crowds and traffic as I walked over the deep carpet of leaves. It had begun to rain a little when I first started my journey.
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.
The sunless sky covered the woods over the treetops which created a canopy over my head. The crimson and auburn foliage was a magnificent sight, as this was the season known as Fall. There was a gentle breeze, creating the single sound of rustling leaves. The leaves appeared as though they were dying to fall out of the tree and join their companions on the forest floor. Together with pine needles and other flora the leaves formed a thick springy carpet for me to walk upon.