A Short Story : A Story?

I started to walk away from the tournament, I wanted to get away, to think. No one ever seems to care how I felt. I walk to the barn slowly so Curly wouldn't notice I was leaving when I saw Lennie. I needed to talk to someone, to actually have a really conversation with someone. I kept to my slow pace til he looked up at me. Then, he covered something up in the hay.

Lucy has these visions and feelings that make her call her mother back home, and tell her that she remembers the taste of her mother’s milk, and the thousands and many more kisses on her

A trickle of fear had her lying motionless with her eyes closed, straining to hear the slightest noise. A deep sigh of regret and the pressure of a body by her side made her acutely aware that she wasn’t alone.

People are debating many controversial issues around the world today. One controversial issue is whether or not college athletes should be paid or not. Many argue college athletes should be paid although others argue why they should not be paid. Some people believe that a scholarship should be enough payment. A scholarship can be worth $15,000 - $25,000 or more per year, plus millions if the athlete goes on to play in professional leagues. Student athletes also receive all kinds of benefits while they are in college, like staying at fancy hotels, living in the best residence halls, being seen on national television, and all of the popularity that goes with being a star athlete. It’s hard to put a price tag on all of that. I believe student

Lying in bed, Perceval blinked his eyes open. The bright morning sunlight filtering into the bedchamber had woken him. He gazed out the window at the azure-blue sky, then turned to face his sleeping wife and smiled. She snored lightly and Perceval found that adorable. However, at the sound of Perceval’s stomach rumbling, Joan woke with a start, her expression groggy and confused.

Clary tensed up and swore under her breath. “Fine,” she agreed. “What are we doing?”

Anne nodded again, but was too lost in thought to respond. Her eyes were unfocused and her lips were drawn together in a thin line.

It was a cold and foggy wednesday morning on june 10th. Hunter was sleeping on his bed when he heard his mom call him.

The summer of 2016 was one baseball season that will never escape my mind. Unfortunately, breaking my elbow was the last straw- so I thought. The problem with last summer was I could not stay healthy or happy. That was until my coach came over and flipped my declaration. He pushed me to go back out and encouraged me to play the game of baseball which I admire! My dad was another inspiration for me to achieve my goals I could not stay cheerful and became depressed. It seemed everything became serious. I eventually became determined to get back onto the field. I was never a guy to hit the ball far, and I always joked about hitting my first home run, but that joke became a reality.

"I can hear you thinking, sweetheart. And that’s what I brought you here to explain."

Suddenly, Dreamcatcher remembered everything. The reason he was so worried before, was because he has seen this recurring character in his dreams. Often, she wouldn’t be doing anything. She would just… watch. It was incredibly unnerving, but for the longest of times, he would simply brush her off as just another figment of his increasingly troubled imagination.

Pearing through the lense of different perspectives of criticism allows new light to be shined on elements of literature that readers may not have considered before. Analyzing Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Fall of the House of Usher” through the biographical perspective allows readers to recognize the similarities between the short story and Poe’s life. The biographical perspective shows the house symbolizing tuberculosis that was a motif in Poe’s life and the use of inbreds in “The Fall of the House of Usher” parallels Poe’s life of marrying his cousin.

Gregg lay on his bed, hands covering his face. Tommy was dead. Shot in cold blood by Maynard. A man he thought was his friend. He killed his friend, Tommy without a flinch. Would Maynard also shoot him? He supposed not, because he was Frank Daggott’s son. But Gregg didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be a part of any killing. Gregg wished he was with Julia. Where was she? There was no reason why she wasn’t here. There may come a time that he’d have to dump her. Just like his old man dumped women, Gregg could easily be like that too.

Hazel peered into the mirror, examining every inch of herself; long caramel hair cascading around her shoulders, cold green eyes, thin pretty face, slim figure, green dress falling to her knees, one sleeve wrapping around her right shoulder like a toga. A shimmering dress, that was worthy of prom.

Someone’s touching my face; gently running long fingers through my hair and down the side of my cheek. It feels good, comforting. I stir, waking up to an achy body I wish I didn’t own. I groan, rolling away. The word, angel, is softly repeated over and over again.