The sun was beating mercilessly down on me. All around as far as I could see was soft sand. Not one breathing soul. Not even a raincloud could be seen in the beautiful bright sky. My feet dragged through the hot sand as I trudged along. My limbs felt weary and heavy. My feet felt like a million pounds as I tried to put one in front of another. I did not know how much longer I could last.
I needed water. My mouth was dry and my throat was parched. Just breathing hurt when the oxygen touched my dry insides. My tongue felt like a big, heavy, dry sock inside my mouth. I felt the urge to lick my dry lips, but now I had no saliva to lick them with. Water. Water. That is all I need.
My eyes felt so very heavy. And dry. My eyelids drooped over my eyeballs, but I forced them open again. I could barely lift my skinny legs as I slowly sink in the sizzling sand. My mind felt slow, thick, and heavy with lack of water. The sun was still beating heavily and pitilessly down on my skin, burning every bit of it. This is torture. I blinked, my eyes felt agonisingly tender.
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I could not move my long tongue out of my big-lipped snout. My back becomes heavy. I feel like someone is on top of me. My third clear eyelid protects me from the blowing breeze of sand. I grumble and grunt to try and get somebody’s attention. There was nobody. Not one. I was alone and I did not like it. I felt like a zebra with no
Theatre as a unique, live art form does not only consist of theatrical performances that tell stories, but are significant as to how they cover certain topics that portray issues within the world. Because of this, theatre is an art form that can be used as a platform to discuss and bring awareness to issues that affect one’s community. The play, In the Red and Brown Water by Tarell Alvin Mccraney follows the upcoming of age story of Oya, a young African-American woman, that struggles to find her true self and identity within the projects of San Pere, Louisiana. With the presence of Yoruban tradition, In the Red and Brown Water explores the themes of poverty and racial injustices among minorities through the distinctive use of design clues,
A Long Walk to Water is a Realistic Fiction book that can be about Determination and it is made by Linda Sue Park. Nya is the main female character, and she has to fetch water everyday and it takes 8 hours of the day to get water and come back. Nya sometimes has to move to a lake during dry season and still has to get water, Nya. also doesn’t get to go to school or learn. Salva is the main male character, the part where Salva lives has been having war and Salva has to get to a refugee camp in Ethiopia along the way Salva meets a boy named Mariel and he finds his uncle, he makes it to a camp but a couple years later the government is falling and they have to go to another camp. Later on Salva got to go to New York and live with a new family.
...as hurriedly approaching my toes. I clinched my toes deeper in the sand to prepare myself to get annihilated by the wave’s white water. But, of course, it was just the familiar feeling of the cool rush between my feet as they sunk deeper into the sand. Scanning the water vigorously, I tippy toed my way out into bottomless ocean. Remembering the feeling of the tingle and than burn, I peered back to see my beach chair waiting for me in the scorching sun. While I contemplated turning around and heading back to my safe place. I continued on. I continued to walk forward. I did not stop once the water passed my waist. I would not let the phobia of jellyfish hold me back from the once place I loved the most. As the water washed over the tips of my hair, warm memories of my past fled into my mind. I let my once again peach colored toes disappear deeper into the blue water.
The world was quiet, all that could be heard was the roaring of blood running through veins and gurgle of air bubbles as they ere released. Light filtered through the water causing it to glimmer. The water encased her like a cocoon, coercing her to close her eyes and relax. Warmth surrounded her, the burning in her lungs building. She knew that dying this way would be easy, quiet. No one would find out about it for some time, but there was a voice nagging in the back of her head telling her to get up. Before she could make the decision as to whether to remain in the warm water or not, strong hands where under her arms, pulling her out of the water and onto the tiled floor of the bathroom.
Water is one of the most vital essentials that helps support all of life. In the article “Water Works” by Cynthia Barnett, she talks about the “Growing Vine Street” project in how it has helped clean up the pollution in water. The project changes the flow of the water so it flows into the ground rather than through streets, parking lots, and roofs because it soaks up harmful things that goes into the gutter and cause pollution in many other places. Barnett believes we should upgrade the water system even though it will cost a bunch of money because the current water system is aging and needs to repair, replace, and upgraded. Upgrading the water system will help clean the water more effectively and reduce the amount of pollution in the
As I inched my way toward the cliff, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I could feel the coldness of the rock beneath my feet when my toes curled around the edge in one last futile attempt at survival. My heart was racing like a trapped bird, desperate to escape. Gazing down the sheer drop, I nearly fainted; my entire life flashed before my eyes. I could hear stones breaking free and fiercely tumbling down the hillside, plummeting into the dark abyss of the forbidding black water. The trees began to rapidly close in around me in a suffocating clench, and the piercing screams from my friends did little to ease the pain. The cool breeze felt like needles upon my bare skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The threatening mountains surrounding me seemed to grow more sinister with each passing moment, I felt myself fighting for air. The hot summer sun began to blacken while misty clouds loomed overhead. Trembling with anxiety, I shut my eyes, murmuring one last pathetic prayer. I gathered my last breath, hoping it would last a lifetime, took a step back and plun...
The heat and humidity pressed onto my skin and . My throat was harsh and dry, desperate for water. I forced myself to admire the surroundings in an attempt to distract myself from my blistered feet and my gaping thirst for water. Feeling light headed, my vision began to blur, trees started to sway vigorously and laggardly began to swirl together into one green blob. I quickly took out my bottle and thirstily slurped the cool water, feeling refreshed and anew.
My sweat soaked shirt was clinging to my throbbing sunburn, and the salty droplets scalded my tender skin. “I need this water,” I reminded myself when my head started to fill with terrifying thoughts of me passing out on this ledge. I had never been so relieved to see this glistening, blissful water. As inviting as the water looked, the heat wasn't the only thing making my head spin anymore. Not only was the drop a horrifying thought, but I could see the rocks through the surface of the water and couldn't push aside the repeating notion of my body bouncing off them when I hit the bottom. I needed to make the decision to jump, and fast. Standing at the top of the cliff, it was as if I could reach out and poke the searing sun. Sweat dripped from my forehead, down my nose, and on its way to my dry, cracked lips which I licked to find a salty droplet. My shirt, soaked with perspiration, was now on the ground as I debated my
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
We got there right after the sun’s peak time ended, so around 3pm, and my breath was taken away by it’s beauty. The sand is so soft, it feels like a fuzzy blanket on a cold fall day. When I walked on the beach I could faintly smell the of salt. As I would walk into the water, I could feel my skin tighten as the salt water would touch my skin. Then, as I got out of the water, I could taste the salt lingering on my lips.
This necessity of life is everywhere around us. It is more abundance than the ground of which you stand on; it glimmers under the bright sun; it ripples in the wind, and it gave birth to many intellectual civilizations. This necessity of life can conform into any shapes and sizes. It can be the genesis of life, but it can also bring death. This versatile, natural compound is used to provide electricity to million of people; it is the bearer of nostalgic memories, and a symbol for the summer season.
The Story About The Water Droplet One cloudy, cold day in Casa Grande, Arizona there lived a young water droplet named Amphitrite. She and her friends Dasani and Aquafina knew this would be the day they took the Never Ending express. They had no idea what was in store. Before Amphitrite could think the cloud started to move. Droplets fell from 6,500 ft in the air.
I turned off the car and took a deep breath. Looking slowly up into the pink sky, I began to watch the golden sun go to sleep. The beach seemed deserted, quiet, but peaceful. I opened my door and put my feet out on the soft sand. I started taking my shoes off, then my socks. I threw them in the passenger seat, and then shut the door. I looked out over horizon of the lake and started walking towards the still water. With each step I took, I could feel the warm sand crunch between my toes. Then suddenly, a sharp rock, but not sharp enough to break the skin.
The dull light of the sun somehow manages to kindle my senses in a way I had never seen or felt before. Everything felt like it came to a standstill and the effect of the light made the scene look like one in a painting. The waves break gently into white foam on the black beach. The small crystals in the sand glimmer and twinkle brilliantly against the sunrays. The seagulls ride with the wind and the soft sand cushions my toes.
I felt like an empty glass of water. No water. No half-empty or half-full. there was nothing left to give, No tears left to be cried. Behind closed doors of my home, My mom and dad were the only ones that made me feel happy, I had fun with them, but I heard the lies in my thoughts, I was telling myself that that wasn't “cool” that the kids from my high school, my friends, those were the ones to impress, their opinion of me was the most important .