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Personal Narrative-All Quiet On The Western Front

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The great man tinkered with his little motor. He worked in an eerie silence. The echoes of metallic tools reverberated through the area. The workshop was very spacious, a large opened room with several cluttered work desk scattered about the area. Loose pages littered the tile floor, stretching from wall to wall; illustrated with the man's genius rantings. When I entered the room, I took my time to step on the cracks between the papers. Trying desperately not to anger my new employer the first day on the job. It had been hard finding work. With war looming in Europe and skilled labor being in low demand. My only two choices were simple. Assistant or Soldier, needless to say I chose the former. I am not cut out for extreme violence,

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