Garage Sales Short Story
Yesterday, my grandma and I went around on a nice spring day to go to garage sales. The first garage sale we went to was a small little brick house
with beautiful rose bushes out front. Inside the garage I saw a nice vase with beautiful swirly blue, yellow, and green patterns, and a cork in it to
cover the top. I thought that it would look beautiful on my bookshelf, so I bought it for $3.50. After we went to the rest of the garage sales I was
very anxious to see was inside of the vase, but my grandma wanted to go to lunch downtown first. Even though the scenery was beautiful with lots of
blooming trees and bushes, I really wanted to go home and open that vase. When we finally got done with lunch my grandma said, " you should come
to my house to open that vase because, I would like...show more content...
We both just stood there shell shocked for probably 5 minutes, when I said, " We have to go return this!" 1As we were driving back to the first
garage sale that sold us that urn, we hit every red light on the way there, went through lots of traffic,and we even passed by a car crash, when we
finally got to the small brick house the garage sale was over, and nobody was home! The next day we drove back again and still nobody was home
at the small brick house. After standing around looking clueless for a while, the lady next door, in an all blue dress came out and said, "they just
left to go on vacation all week to Hawaii." "So, we have to wait another 7 days to give this urn back?" I said. When they finally came back from
vacation a week later, we went to their small brick house to return the
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Narrative Essay for English 101
English101/ Narrative Essay I never thought the day would come where I'd have to admit to myself I had an addiction. The hardest part was to
except the fact I was an addict of painkillers and admitting it to my family so that I could get the help and support needed to get clean. The road
leading to my addiction started with the factors of my childhood, always trying to fit in and not being supported emotionally from my parents.
Having a child at the age of sixteen was the second factor, which made me grow up faster than a normal child at my age would have had to. Living the
life of an addict was a struggle everyday but, getting help was the hardest part of it all. I'll live with this disease for the rest of my life because recovery
is a...show more content...
Unfortunately, that situation didn't go as planned and living further away from my job with no car caused me to lose my job. Losing my job put
an extreme amount of stress on my family, due to not having money to pay the bills or to support my pill habit. At this point in time I knew I had a
problem with narcotics and needed help. I put it off when Tim got a job thinking that I could support my habit again. Things got better for a while
until Tim started using painkillers with me. Tim had gone so long trying to encourage me to stop, that he started using them with me. It was fun
using together for a few months; until I found out we were going to have a baby. Now, we were both addicted to narcotics, had no vehicle,
struggling just to get by financially, with a seven year old girl and a two year old girl. I knew something had to change because we were both too
weak to help each other get clean. Due to this, we decided it was best to move in with my father. When I made the call to my father to confess my
addiction, tears started running down my face. Admitting to my dad my struggle with narcotics was hard because I didn't want to be a
disappointment to him however, I needed to get help and the first step was to be honest and admit I had a problem. After I moved in with my father
and got settled, I went over what my options were to get clean while being five months pregnant. My dad had brought me to Athol Memorial Hospital,
which is where I went to speak with the

Essay On Guinea Pigs
The faint crinkle of a bag of carrots being opened 5 miles away, seems to only be heard by these fuzzy, plump, and entertaining animals: cavies,
commonly known as guinea pigs. The excitement my guinea pigs display as I walk into the room: climbing the cage bars, squealing, and kissing
my fingers, energetically begging for food leaves a warm feeling in my heart. The funky little cowlicks covering an Abyssinian guinea pigs body in
shades varying from crГЁme to orange to black, the more colors the higher these lovely creatures rank on the cuteness scale; each guinea pig's
personality is unique. I was introduced to the world of guinea pigs in seventh grade, when I applied to become a volunteer at the age of 12 to the
Virginia Beach SPCA. I am honored...show more content...
Of course a little piece of lettuce made it easier to find the way into their hearts. After taking small animal training classes at the SPCA, I began to
work in the small animal room every shift. My experience here led to me convincing my parents to allow me to adopt 1, which soon grew to 4 little
spunky fluff–balls finding their home with us within the next 2 years. My fascination of these animals caused a sensation of yearning to learn more
information on these animals. I spent my time researching on the Internet and reading books. While scouring the Internet, I discovered a tradition,
which led to a change in my lifestyle. I read countless articles focusing on the tradition of consuming guinea pigs in Peru as a delicacy. This appalled
me because of my love for these animals, and led me to question the cultural standard of meat consumption. I began to realize that my behaviors were
hypocritical to my thoughts; why is it okay for me to frown upon the consumption of guinea pigs, yet simultaneously eat another animal? I decided to
become a vegetarian, which was strange to my family. I became an advocate in my school for vegetarianism, which taught me independence, patience,
understanding, and

Narrative-Assisted Suicide: A Short Story
It was a scool day and my alarm clock woke me up at 6am so i scremed at it"SHUT THE FUCK UP IM TRYING TO SLEEP." and threw it across the
room where it shattered the window and my mom instantlye started screaming at me "SHUT THE FUCK UP IM TRYING TO SLEEP" but i only
hissed at her and fell out of bed. I woalked over to my closet and picked out my clothes. I was wearing a black skinny jean short skirt from hot topic
and a black leather shirt with a middle finger on it from spencers and black converse shoes i got at journeys. i put on my black vans backpeck on
and heded out the door. i didnt eat breakfast because thats empty calories and ill get fat. im anorexia btw. i went on the bus. i scowld at my bus driver
satan and sat next to my bae shrek....show more content...
i so broke my new record of wrist slittin last nite! i bled out two cups of blood and didnt even pass out!!! i would show you all the blood but i drank
it all srry." i said "wow thats cool." she said too me "yeah" i said when the bell runged i went into the bathroom and started smoking cocaine. i dont
go to class i just smoke cocaine because im rebellus and edgy. i smoked nine cocaine and by the time i was finished it was lunch time. i didnt eat at
lunch though because im anorexia. im so fat. 25 pounds is way overweyt. ugh. in the middle of lunch i got bored so my bf shrek and me started to
have sex on the table. principal jesus walked in the cafeteria in the middle of it and was not happy for some reason. we both got sent to the office.
jesus was really overreacting all we did was fuck. he must have been on his period. (get it bc guys dont have ovaries or a vagina and cant get a
period lulz) jesus said he was very disappointed in us and said that the next time we get caught he might call home. what a bitch i hate jesus i wanna
kill him. in fact im gonna kill him. next week. i should go buy a gun. skool is for chumps anyways. i left the school after lunch because i needed to
plan out killing principal

My Fear- Personal Narrative Essay
My Fear– Personal Narrative Every child, teenager and adult has experienced anxiety, fear or worry at some time in their lives. Everyone has their
own phobias. Some are just temporary whereas others just linger, haunting them forever. Life allows us each of us to experience challenges in our
own way. But when these challenges become almost impossible to complete, they become long term problems. When faced with fear, one looks for
the easiest route out, but in my case, there were no signposts. There is one part of my life that I vividly recall. I don't really know when or how it
started. Maybe I'd had it all my life or maybe it developed at a certain age. Perhaps, that will remain an unsolved...show more content...
I didn't know why this was happening and felt that I had no control over my thoughts or fears. By this stage, I would have persistent nightmares of
my house burning down where everyone in the building would escape, with the exception of me. I remember how I felt after being awoken by the
fear of death. It was a feeling of confusion and I didn't know why this was happening. My phobia totally disabled me and at the time I found it
difficult to relax. I live alone with my mum and she was unaware of what I was secretly going through. At the time, I never really opened my eyes
to the fact that I had a problem. I told myself that it was just a phase and that I was fine but deep down I think I always knew that this was untrue.
Another habit of mine was counting syllables of words. Whenever I would see a shop sign I would count the syllables of the words written and
would ensure that the number of syllables did not exceed sixteen (my favourite number). One evening, a friend of mine had visited my home for
dinner and I could do nothing but worry about the food overcooking and causing a fire. It would not leave my mind and was all that I could think of.
That is when I noticed that my actions were odd. I almost immediately logged on to the internet and searched for fire related obsessions.

Personal Narrative: Dealing With Emotions
I had zero clues as to what to do with my emotions. I was alone on top of that, I have an older brother, but we were very distant as he is 7 years
older, and I clearly could not speak to my mother as she was in deeper than any of us. Once I began to realize how wrong and real my situation
was, I was in Canada, with a language that I barely knew, and kids that had nothing in common with me. I was young and isolated. This definitely
affected the way I reacted and interpreted the whole situation. I became depressed and anxious due to all that happened and that was out of my
control. My perspective and behavior were no longer in my hands or my choice, my brain had a chemical imbalance and people made the decision for
me that it defined me, so...show more content...
I lashed out, hurt myself and those who cared about me, and I knew it was wrong, but I did not know how else to deal with it all. I shut off my
emotions because I believed it would stop me from being so hurt all the time. This was who I was, the why did not matter, the point was that I was
that person and I made no effort to change. Whether I wanted to or not, did not matter, because what is important is what I chose to put out, but
how was I supposed to know all of this. It took me a while after things were better to realize that none of that had to define the person that I had the
potential to be. Just as before, moving from one country to another, my reaction to this did not have to be all that different. I began talking to a
counselor, and I took away any negative connotations that I had about the experience. I needed help dealing with it all and I needed to get over my
pride and get it. I began to realize that I messed up and did things that hurt many people, including myself but I have my whole life ahead of me and
cannot dwell on the past. I began to open up to people, and love the fact that I had such strong emotions, but I also had to learn to deal with them and
not shut myself

Narrative, Fiction And The Novel 1500 Words
Student ID: @00413818
Narrative, Fiction & the Novel 1500 Words
Word Count of Main Body: 1699
"We cannot adequately assess Moll's actions unless we thoroughly understand the patriarchal system of the society in which she must think and act."
With careful reference to the novel, explain and illustrate your views on this issue.
Moll Flanders, written by eighteenth century English author Daniel Defoe and published in 1722, composes the adventurous story of a woman who was
born in Newgate prison to a mother, condemned to death and who 'pleaded her belly' in order for her punishment to be postponed until the birth of
the baby. Since the sorrowful circumstances surrounding her birth, Moll has had to endure hardship in order to survive the harsh conditions that
women from a lower class of society faced throughout this unsettling time in history. After a series of miserable events leaving Moll faced with an
uncertain future, she eventually devotes herself to a life of crime, some being less serious offences than others, although equally punishable with a
prison sentence. Moll speaks of being abandoned at an early age and the repercussions this had on her, "had this been the custom in our country, I
had not been left a poor desolate girl without friends, without clothes, without help or helper in the world, as was my fate; and by which I was not
only exposed to very great distresses, even before I was capable either of understanding my case or how to amend it, but brought unto

Personal Narrative Essay
Narrative Essay In the summer of 2013 I moved in my dad's house for the summer to learn how to cook. Moving from Cherokee, AL to Florence, AL
was a stressful move. My Mother and I agreed it was best I learn from someone that has being in the field for over 15 years. The game plan was to go
work with my dad a Dale's Steakhouse with my dad all summer. I made sure I grab my notebook and plenty of pencils so I can ask him questions. The
idea of moving to my dad's house was my decision but it was a good and something I know I will use in college. My dad's cooking background is
legendary in my eyes. As a youth my dad learn from his dad the important of cooking. When he was talking to me about the in and out of being a chef,
it was like...show more content...
It was the summer of 1989 my started his new job at Shoney's Family Restaurant. At start he didn't know what to expect from his old shift leader at
a new work place it's to say he was nervous. But he knew this is a new learning experience at cooking. Day by day he learn, fix, and made mistake
but he never got down from it. At the age 17 my dad question his decision about cooking. His manager talk to him after work talking about
working in the cooking industry, at the time my dad told me that he became very frustrating of what he want to do till that night . About summer
of 1991 my dad begin Culinary School at the University of North Alabama. Now my was he was a little bit afraid about going to a big college but
he know what he was going for and know what he was going to accomplished his goal. Now at this time he done took an internship at Dale's
Steakhouse. He was overjoy know he was going to be working at one of the top steakhouse in North Alabama. His first day was sort like my first
day long and hectic but he overcome the odds and did his job to perfection. 2 weeks go by an he was offer a positon at Dale's so he quit college an
took a full time positon cooking. From there he learn the ins and outs of the restaurant Business. At the end of the Summer I return back to Cherokee,
AL to get ready for my senior of high school. Spending the summer with my dad not only taught how to cook but also made me realize I didn't want to
be a

500 Word Short Story
Thesis: In a year full of new lessons and different visions of the world; a quite influential day came when I entered to the realization I was no
longer the little girl I portrayed to be in my head. I saw my cousin view the streets I grew up on as I once viewed. I saw the twinkle in her eyes that
reflected innocence. Innocence that I longed to regain, innocence that allowed me to feel pure happiness without knowing the emotions of dull sorrow.
As I watched my cousin in her blooming steps of complete and utterly enjoyment I started to foresee old memories. Memoires of compassion in every
sight I saw, every thought that allowed me to create the most exzotic imaginations, to the eager reach of my fathers protection.
Body Paragraphs:
Body #1:
It was a luminous day where the slightest touch of a ray in the line of the sun could hug you from any direction. The air was sweet with the aroma of
kettle corn to the bitter taste of salt from the crashing waves along the shore. On this day I was struck with the strong sensation of deja vu in a very
real childhood sense. My cousin and myself were strolling down the main street of a family town called Springfield. The town that seemed to never
change when everything else did, to revisit Springfield it was like I was revisiting childhood all on it's own. I watched my cousin Erin walk as if she was
...show more content...
As the day grew longer I felt a bitter chill of the slowly covering sun. As I felt the shift in weather I yearned for the warmth of my fathers arms as
he wrapped them around me when I was cold. Being the protection of my cousin I longed for my own as I once had as a child. I wanted to feel the
security when my father held out his hand for my own. When in the moment of my hand holding his pinky in that my fingers were too small to
intertwine with his, I felt as if I had a shield to protect me from any

Descriptive Essay Example
Descriptive Essay Final The downtown metropolis can be a complex place, and some may need to become accustomed to it. It is Five O' Clock in
the afternoon. The sun is starting to drag itself lower, dimming the landscape, leaving a majestic orange on the horizon. The towering structures
above leave enormous shadows on the people below. Car horns ring and sirens pulse, as the people make haste towards there destinations, rushing
aggressively as if though it is a race. The end of the work day has just began. The craze is unique from anywhere else. An endless flow of people
and vehicles seem to liter the area. A man can be seen making his way towards a small parking lot. The parking lot has not been taken care of for
some time. Potholes...show more content...
Lush, green trees are everywhere. Every house and small business seems to have one or two of them. The car makes it's way down a small street,
with old fashioned houses. The car comes to a halt in front of a beautiful tan house. The house feels cozy. The tan painted planks of wood stack up
until they reach the charcoal shingles of the rooftop. Two enormous windows are on the front of the house, with fine, white curtains that can be
seen hanging from them on the other side. On the left side of a house there is a large chimney, which gives the house a traditional look with it's
brown and red bricks. In the front yard of the house there is a smooth, clean concrete walkway to the front door, surrounded by many bushes, and
flowers; trimmed perfectly. This house is well kept, and it stands out as a beauty in the neighborhood. The man walks up his paved walkway, and
into the house through a large white door, with four small windows on it, and a cross like pattern beneath them. The doors gives of the look as if it is
an entryway to heaven. The house is peaceful. Only the birds chirping in the trees can be heard. And as the man enters his house excited children raise
there voices, "Daddy Daddy!". This family man is

A Dystopian Story
Possible ideas for Dystopian Story
I look to the right of my bed and it's there; crouching beside me. Its face is pure white and doesn't resemble skin at all, but a shining porcelain. The
monster doesn't have a mouth – there is just skin running down from the bottom of its nose to its chin. Shielding it's beady eyes are a pair of
raven–black goggles strapped to its bald head. It wears what resembles a completely circular helmet the colour of a neon orange and its hands are
covered in tactical gloves, dark as a jet–black night. It wears an amber jumpsuit and stare into my soul. Its wretched face is about five centimetres
away from mine and I can feel an ice cold breath creep onto my forehead.The creatures body is hunched over and strange...show more content...
Looming over me was a man in a blue pinstripe suit holding a leather briefcase. His wrinkled forehead displayed beads of sweat and stress was
painted on his face. "Rise and Shine, Anastasia." He said with a certain accentuated low–key moroseness to his tone, placing unusual stress on syllables
and stressing the wrong parts of words. "Wake up, Anastasia" He continued, "Wake up and smell the ashes of your people." I glowing blue eyes
staring at me, observing every detail of my being. I called for my Mum and Dad, but they were gone. The world looked different that day. My
colourful childhood home had changed to a bleaker and less welcoming brown, there were many planes in the sky, like birds flying south and there
were bones and pieces of metal all over the ground. That was when I was deported to The Society. To my new

500 Word Analysis
When I read the 500 word essay title, I had a lot of things come to my mind about myself, but I didn't know how to put it into words.I started
writing things down about what I thought was unique about myself and was finally able to begin typing my essay.The first thing that I thought of
was my aspirations and how they are important to me,I have decided that I wont let my gpa which is a disappointment to me, hinder all that i want
to accomplish in my life. My qualities and characteristics have always been to do the best that I can at everything, whether its at job interviews,
speeches and my grades. I really started to be serious about my grades in the 11th grade, until then I had always settled for any grade as long as I
was passing the course.The consequences of being young and irresponsible resulted in a low gpa.When I finally observed my transcript, I was
highly disappointed in myself. I was eager to go to my guidance counselor to arrange a way for me to retake the class to make a better grade and
my success in retaking classes along with current courses allowed my grade point average to increase.Honestly, If I could do it all over again, I most
certainly would even though it means that I would have to redo 4 years.I possess great determination, when I desire something I work for it.If I had to
describe myself with one word, it would be diligent....show more content...
Growing up in a christian household has taught me that we are all equal.So when I learned that Florida A&M university was and is an equal
opportunity university, my interest became larger.My best interests is in Florida A&M. I would never defame the university, for it has educated many
good people. I believe that I will stand out, and be my own

Personal Narrative: My Experience At Auschwitz
At age 9, I arrived at Auschwitz, I saw electric fences and piled up dead bodies. I was immediately ordered to strip and put on a striped outfit. They
split us into two groups, men and women. I was seperated from my sister and my mother. I was very scared at the time and didn't know what was
going to happen to me, my good friend from school, and my father. All I smelled was the rancid stench of rotting flesh. It was unbearable. They
ordered the all women to go straight to the camps. That was the last time I saw my sister and mother. I couldn't even kiss, hug, or say bye or love you
to them. We were then transferred to the fields to work on agriculture. After six hours of nonstop work and hearing young children and adults cry and
scream to...show more content...
My friend and I ran to a guard and asked him for more food. He did not reply. He grabbed us and threw us into a group of about 50 other men.
Officers shoved all 50 of us into the "showers". We were striped naked and sat there for five minutes. As I looked on the walls, I saw scratch marks
and it smelled like rotting flesh. I noticed openings on the roof of the building. The officers outside were screaming at each other. I couldn't
understand what they were saying. They both ran to the camps for whatever they needed, I don't know. I saw the opportunity to escape. My friend
and I ran towards the fence. I noticed an opening under the fence. We were able to crawl our way under the fence. I could feel the metal scraping
along my back. I felt the cold blood dripping down my back. Once we cleared the fence, I gained enough strength to get on my feet and start running.
We saw a younger gentleman working on his yard. He told us to follow him. He gave us warm germless clothes. The sensation of being safe and
escaping those monsters alive brought me to tears. Not knowing if my family would survive and possibly not seeing them again, but at the same time,
knowing they loved me brought joy to my heart. It was a very

Personal Narrative My Life Essay
Personal Narrative My Life
I never really thought about where my life was going. I always believed life took me where I wanted to go, I never thought that I was the one who took
myself were I wanted to go. Once I entered high school I changed the way I thought. This is why I chose to go to college. I believe that college will
give me the keys to unlock the doors of life. This way I can choose for myself where I go instead of someone choosing for me.
I have chosen to go to the local community college to get used to the college experience. College life can be an exciting time but at the same time it
can be a challenge. I feel that starting out at the community college would be a better chose than "jumping" into life at a...show more content...
I know this is what I want to do with my life. I want to be a positive influence in the lives of children. I want to be able to stand up and show the
children that it is okay to be yourself and stand up for what you believe in. I am a well round student. For nine years I was actively involved in a
girls organization. This experience taught me many things. We were actively involved in community service activities, for which I received the
Silver Award. ( The second highest award in the organization.) I learned about the value of friendship and patients with others. This organization first
introduced me to my future career. I was also involved for three and a half years in a student government club on campus. In this club I learned many
life lessons. One of which was the value of hard work. I was one of the few people that organized the Junior/Senior Prom of 2000. My responsibilities
included planning corranation, buying and organizing decorations, planning the busing schedule, booking the photographers, fundraising, ect. This
taught me about hard work. But the best part of it was going to Prom knowing I was one of the only reasons that it happened. As far as school goes, my
schedule is very diverse. I am taking child development lab, which is a class where students from my high school can go to the local elementary
schools and work one on one with the students. I have work in the elementary school for two and a half years. I

Personal Narrative: A Brave New World
When I was 5, my hands grew old and weary, tired of construction and calloused from work. Day after day after day, I would fashion new worlds and
cultures out of little LEGO blocks. I worked fastidiously– creating tiny planes, guarded forts, and expansive cities that swept from one end of the carpet
to the other. (I loved to make castles with booby–trapped moats and false walls and hidden entrances.) I was consumed by my LEGOs. I created whole
civilizations one after the other, with every detail considered. I included the civilians, the animals, the water, the transportation, the buildings, and the
foliage. I could lay on the living room carpet for days, selecting the right pieces. After the final product was revealed, I would glue the pieces

Narrative Essay On Thanksgiving
It was November of 2014 when my family and I were traveling to Payson, Arizona to visit my grandparents and celebrate Thanksgiving. My family is
fairly small so it wasn't complicated to plan holiday events without much hassle. We arrived in the afternoon time a day before Thanksgiving. We
decided to celebrate a day early with my mothers side of the family since the rest of our family resides in Phoenix. Usually, this time of year brings
out the good in everyone. For instance, my grandma always feels inclined to share how much she thanks the Lord for all of us. When we arrived
the ham had already been cooking in the oven for what I assume had been a few hours. Their house has always been warm and inviting, decorated
with old western memorabilia. The first thing we did when we arrived was greet grandma and grandpa with hugs and kisses to the cheek. We don't
get to see them as often as we all would like and these reunions are far and in–between, but sometimes the longer you wait for something special, the
more increased your anticipation of the event is. To say that I was excited would be an understatement.
We were sitting around the dining room table praying before our meal, as we always do, but this time we each thanked God for all the things he had
blessed us with. We made our way around the table expressing our gratitude and thanksgiving, but when we reached grandma's seat she paused for a
moment. She then passionately thanked the Lord for her life, her children, and

War Story- Personal Narrative Essay
War Story– Personal Narrative Finally we got a well deserved break from what seemed like our endless marching. As we stopped pain shot up my
left leg like a bullet. I looked automatically to my right. Nobody was there. My best friend Simon would usually stand there, as he had in the war
before, I could imagine the grin on his face. The images of all those years ago started to play in my mind...
It began when we were assembled in the safety of the trench. Then we heard those dreaded words that can make a man throw up with fear for his life.
"Go! Over the top men, go!"
I froze, not breathing, not even blinking I was paralysed, standing there motionless, my legs as solid as...show more content...
Then, turning my head again I saw Simon dive to my aid. He did not utter a single word but just gave a faint grin then promptly looked down at my
leg and set to work. He freed me and with a little help I made it to the safety of the next shell hole. I owed him my life.
Simon refused to stop. He climbed up again to help the others. I tried to tug him back but my efforts were worthless; seen as I was wounded. Gun
shots and shell fire pounded my ears like a right hand from a heavy weight boxer. I will never forget the next sound I heard. I knew it was the end so I
looked up at the morning sun and prayed towards the heavens. I could hear the screams penetrating throughout my mind.
Now I'm standing here about to march on to fight in another war, fighting for my dear friend. When will man kind learn? Now, however, I fear this
time I might not be so lucky, especially now, without Simon, who I did not even get a chance to thank for saving my life. Now I try to put the
thoughts out of my mind with a tear in my eye turning away from the other soldiers so they cannot see.
I can see a large church in front of me and can hear the sounds of children playing. I begin to think about the contrast. The young, blameless children
playing happily with each other only a short distance away from where us, the adults are contemplating what lies ahead hideously slaughtering the

Narrative: a Memorable Event. Essay
Narrative: A memorable event.
I woke to my body jittering with anxiety. It was 7 o'clock on a Saturday morning, and it was the day that I had been awaiting for. I was almost ready
when my Dad shouted '' Ya betta get ya'self moving Kertesha, we're gonna be late!''.
I paused, and took one last look at myself in the mirror. My hair was scraped back, my polo necked fleece was suffocating and itchy, my black ribbed
jodhpurs were tight around my midriff, but there was one thing missing. It was one thing which all the girls on the internet, in the movies, and in all the
equestrian magazines had – A gilet. Mine was a pink Abercrombie & Fitch one, with ribbed salmon trims around the waistband and collar; it was
not a real equestrian gilet,...show more content...
Although the smell of the manure was strong, over time I began to appreciate it, and so it became more of an aroma, than an odour. But this is
something my Dad never seemed to get used, to let alone appreciate. The entire stable had a rather odd smell; it was a mixture of hay, cut grass, dust,
manure, and oddly, a hint of leather. This was a smell which I soon became very fond of.
There were six of us in the group, we were all new to Dulwhich Riding School and filled with enthusiasm. After being handed our riding hats, we were
alphabetically permitted to choose a horse, and as always, I was last in the alphabet. I was left with a choice of two, one was a blue roan filly. She
was a young slate coloured horse who reminded me of Eeyore (from Winnie the Pooh), and was also a lot smaller than the other horses. Then I saw
the attractive sorrel coloured gelding, he stood glaring at me with his head poking out of the barn gate. His mane was dark and silky, and he had a
striking white birthmark on the bridge of his nose. I had an instant connection with him, and proclaimed his name as Cashmere.
As I lead Cashmere towards the indoor riding arena, my heart raced. The inconsistent sound hoofs trotting along the cobbled ground were intensifying.
As I stroked Cashmere's muzzle and gave him a mint polo (he's favourites), I began to mentally prepared myself to mount, and ride him.
Cashmere was

Literacy Narrative Essay example
At this point in my life I find myself in an interesting predicament regarding my attitudes toward reading and writing; more so towards reading.
Years ago I used to love reading books for pleasure but nowadays I find myself reading things that little to no effort to digest. This includes the very
basic posts on facebook expressing one's opinion on something or articles and threads on reddit discussing topics I find intriguing. Perhaps it's the
severe senioritis that has overcome me as I enter my last semester at Chapman University. As I've gotten lazier I can see it start to reflect in my
everyday life. Deep down I still love to read but I rarely find myself getting truly invested into the action unless it relates to something I am very...show
more content...
You can feed the mind as much as you want and it will never get full of reading. Sadly, I'm not the same person that I was. I guess you could say it's
part of growing up. It never really was intentional but it's just the way how it ended up. On the other hand my attitudes toward writing are very
different. First let me say that deep down I truly do not like to write. I myself don't personally like to write for leisure or pleasure but rather I write
because I believe it is one of the most important aspects of being able to communicate with those around you, both personally and professionally.
To put differently, my attitude towards writing is that I write because I need to write and survive in the world around me. I write because I have
to, not because I want to. Hopefully this somewhat makes sense. To better explain let me make a comparison. When I am assigned a writing
assignment or I am writing because the action is being forced upon me I find myself not enjoying the process and overall the end result is subpar.
The perfect example of this would be my junior year in high school when I was enrolled in AP english literature. I dreaded the majority of the class
simply because there was so much writing involved in the entire course and therefore I was constantly writing just to get a grade. Being forced to
write in such high volume every week for an entire school year was not enjoyable for myself and as a result the

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