The narrator, Alli, recounts her difficult experiences as a 15-year-old girl living in Germany during the final years of World War II. Her village is attacked in 1945, killing her mother and leaving her orphaned with her three younger siblings: Meribell, Xavier, and Ayala. Struggling to survive on their own in the woods, the children take shelter in a cave. There they encounter two men having a conversation, which leads Ayala to discover that one of the men is in fact their long-lost father who has returned after being away at war since 1939.
This is the first part of a story I'm making and I'd like you guys to check it out. Further parts will be released on my blog:
http://kryleas.blogspot.com/
This is the first part of a story I'm making and I'd like you guys to check it out. Further parts will be released on my blog:
http://kryleas.blogspot.com/
This is an adventure novella written by Sheikh Sameen Nawaar Anindya a boy of 9. This is the first part of the 3 part series book where Edward, Daniel and Robin makes atrip to the Loch ness River to explore the river monster Nessi, but becomes prey of a gang looking for treasures.
World of Ryyah: Birth of the Half Elveslorenzmaris
In the World of Ryyah, adventure and romance are intertwined when the highly skilled young man, Donovan, in a quest to avenge a brutal act of wrongdoing, risks his own life to rescue the Elven Princess Brandela. Embarking on a dangerous trek, each displays the loyalty, courage, and heroism praiseworthy of future generations. World of Ryyah: Birth of the Half Elves is the first book in the six-part epic, The Elven Age Saga.
The Wells Branch Community Library in Austin, TX, hosted a writing contest in November, 2009 (National Novel Writing Month). Here are the four winning compositions!
This is an adventure novella written by Sheikh Sameen Nawaar Anindya a boy of 9. This is the first part of the 3 part series book where Edward, Daniel and Robin makes atrip to the Loch ness River to explore the river monster Nessi, but becomes prey of a gang looking for treasures.
World of Ryyah: Birth of the Half Elveslorenzmaris
In the World of Ryyah, adventure and romance are intertwined when the highly skilled young man, Donovan, in a quest to avenge a brutal act of wrongdoing, risks his own life to rescue the Elven Princess Brandela. Embarking on a dangerous trek, each displays the loyalty, courage, and heroism praiseworthy of future generations. World of Ryyah: Birth of the Half Elves is the first book in the six-part epic, The Elven Age Saga.
The Wells Branch Community Library in Austin, TX, hosted a writing contest in November, 2009 (National Novel Writing Month). Here are the four winning compositions!
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Title of your paper goes here
Florida State College at Jacksonville
GEB3213: Business Writing
Student Name
Date / Semester
Abstract
An abstract should be at least 250 words. It should be a single paragraph, double-spaced and block format with no paragraph indent. Be sure to use double-spacing between lines.
Overview, Introduction, or Background
The purpose of this paper is to…then you would summarize the new stories here with 3-4 paragraphs. Use one of the words above as your title for this section.
Impact of Ethics in Communication
In a paragraph or two discussing the relevance to ethics and communication
In a paragraph or two, address the consequences or impact to the subject, organization, and/or society
Importance of Ethics in Business
In several paragraphs address the topic in this requirement.
Discussion or Reflection
In a paragraph or two, address the implications of the lesson learned.
Conclusion
In a paragraph or two, address the implications of the lesson learned. Be sure to
References
Provide at least three scholarly references, in alphabetical order. Please review APA sample paper in Purdue Owl (Student paper example).
References should be hanging indent and double-spaced.
Trefethren1
Home Sweet Home
Valerri Trefethren
ENG-226
Kelly Reynolds
5/February/2022
She opens the car door and takes her first step onto the dark country soil of her new home. This is the place she has dreamed of since age eighteen. That age where you start to notice your surroundings and find out what disenchants you. For her, it was city life. No peace, no quiet, just bustling drunks and strip clubs. She hated it. Always dreaming of a time, she could afford to escape. Finding land with a small house in the center. A bucolic setting with white shutters and the endless aesthetic of a picket fence. Finally, her dream had come true. As she walks up to her new home and surveys the property it sits on, she begins to feel an overwhelming sense of déjà vu (tedious familiarity). Up until this point Mary had not seen the property in person, only through badly taken photos provided by the previous owner. An elderly woman, who would not allow visitors until she had vacated the premises. Mary had found that an odd detail at first, but the price was below her range, and she did not care to wait for anyone else to snag this six-acre gem before she had the chance. She felt a connection to this place but could not figure out why. Unbeknownst to her, the property differed from the awkward photos she had seen. There was no picket fence, no distinguishable property line, and a shed that stood forbidding off in the distance that made her uncomfortable. But not enough to strip her excitement of looking forward to some peace and quiet. She grabbed her first box and headed for the front door.
Once inside her senses were triggered again by a familiar smell of fresh lilac t ...
Close Reading in the Classroom “House Taken Over”
By Julio Cortázar
Matthew Randon | 1
“House Taken Over”
Julio Cortázar
Perform a close reading of the short story below. Remember the steps for reading closely:
Circle and define any unknown words in the left margin.
Highlight in yellow any passages necessary for understanding the plot. Note in the right margin any important details that are revealed.
Highlight in orange any passages necessary for interpreting the text.
We liked the house because, apart from its being old and spacious (in a day when old houses go down for a profitable auction of their construction materials), it kept the memories of great-grandparents, our paternal grandfather, our parents and the whole of childhood.
Irene and I got used to staying in the house by ourselves, which was crazy; eight people could have lived in that place and not have gotten in each other's way. We rose at seven in the morning and got the cleaning done, and about eleven I left Irene to finish off whatever rooms and went to the kitchen. We lunched at noon precisely; then there was nothing left to do but a few dirty plates. It was pleasant to take lunch and commune with the great hollow, silent house, and it was enough for us just to keep it clean. We ended up thinking, at times, that that was what had kept us from marrying. Irene turned down two suitors for no particular reason, and Maria Esther went and died on me before we could manage to get engaged. We were easing into our forties with the unvoiced concept that the quiet, simple marriage of sister and brother was the indispensable end to a line established in this house by our grandparents. We would die here someday, obscure and distant cousins would inherit the place, have it torn down, sell the bricks and get rich on the building plot; or more justly and better yet, we would topple it ourselves before it was too late.
Irene never bothered anyone. Once the morning housework was finished, she spent the rest of the day on the sofa in her bedroom, knitting. I couldn't tell you why she knitted so much; I think women knit when they discover that it's a fat excuse to do nothing at all. But Irene was not like that; she always knitted necessities, sweaters for winter, socks for me, handy morning robes and bed jackets for herself. Sometimes she would do a jacket, then unravel it the next moment because there was something that didn't please her; it was pleasant to see a pile of tangled wool in her knitting basket fighting a losing battle for a few hours to retain its shape. Saturdays I went downtown to buy wool; Irene had faith in my good taste, was pleased with the colors and never a skein had to be returned. I took advantage of these trips to make the rounds of the bookstores, uselessly asking if they had anything new in French literature. Nothing worthwhile had arrived in Argentina since1939.
But it's the house I want to talk about, the house and Ire ...
1. The Awful Era<br />This is my story, my dramatically changed life taken charge by me, Alli, World War II in the village of Rugen, Germany, 1945.<br /> I thought to myself about all that we have lost, family, belongings, shelter. I am fifteen years old with not much left other then the clothes on my back. My family and I were still in Germany during World War II, fighting through the tough times. My father was sent out to war in 1939 and we haven’t heard of him since. A month before the new year of 1945 my mother died of an attack on our village. My siblings and I were with my mother in the house with my grandma and grandpa, then we heard a big “BOOM” in the background, but right after that I couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in my ears. We were lead into the dark green woods with the smell of smoke creeping up on us. My mother went back for our grandpa and grandma and she never returned. <br />Now, only months later, it seems like I’m reliving the pain and ache that will never stop, but just get worse. One moment living and loving our lives, the next wondering how it went wrong. As wild as a pack of hungry hyenas, flames swarmed our village. I ran as the bright orange flames chase after me with their incredibly unbearable heat. <br />“Ahh,” I shouted as I woke up out of my horrible nightmare. I look at my ten year old sister, Meribell to see her rolling around on the damp cave floor with her beautiful reddish-brown hair the color of cinnamon sticks and a freshly cut red-wood tree. Then, I look around the cave for the rest of my family and find Xavier and Ayala in the far end of the cave.<br />“I wonder how our lives would be like it we weren’t in World War II?” I asked myself. I look at Xavier and Ayala, “what would their lives be like?” Twelve year old Xavier with the mindset of a soldier who could pull through anything with a little encouragement, who knows where he could’ve ended up. Also, nine-year-old Ayala with the most imaginative little mind you have ever seen and could make you believe anything with those soft blue eyes as sparkly as a star in the sky that could do anything if he tried. I set myself down and worthlessly tried to get a night’s sleep, especially with all this setting in on my mind.<br />My mother probably was planning on returning, but she just didn’t. We had set off into the woods after an hour of watching our whole lives burn from fire, a place of horror in my mind that I never want to return to. Our adventure really began when we started searching through the forest. We went on traveling for hours, collecting berries when came across, reading moss and going in the opposite direction, soon, we strolled across a cave that we took for shelter since we were all tired. We fell asleep with a full moon hovering over us, craving for a new day to come.<br />The next morning Meribell and I set out for food while we let Xavier and Ayala sleep in. On our way, I saw that Meribell still had the charm hooked on her shoe that mother gave for her birthday; it was a red rose, resembling love in every way. <br />“If only I still had something to hold onto,” I said as she looked at me confusingly.<br />“Your locket, mine was lost at some point during the tragedy.”<br />“Well, you will always have our parents at hea-, “ her sentence was cut off by the sight of a crashed plane. <br />We stopped to look at each other briefly, mourning those lost in the crash. The plane was covered in moss and vines swerving all around, connecting the plane and the wilderness to the point of no unwind. We could only see the side of the plane so I couldn’t tell how big it was. It said B-26 on the side, so I assumed a type of warplane and it had a rusty door ready to be discovered. <br />“Are you sure you want to go in?” I asked Meribell.<br />“Yes, I’m sure,” she stated.<br />As we pried open the rusty door I was overwhelmed by the smell of gasoline, smoke, I started coughing instantly and ran out to wait for a couple minutes until the smell could start to fade. I sat on a rock thinking, making a list about everything I care for, how did it all drift from my existence. <br />“C’mon,” I told my sister revealing the curiosity in my voice.<br />The first thing we find is that it isn’t very big, just a small storage space in back and room for pilots in the front, Meribell called me over to the window and I felt the plane weighing over. After a long silence I say.<br />“How deep is the fall?” I knew from the sway that we were on the edge of a cliff or drop.<br />“A long way,” said Meribell. <br />I started to drift along the walls slowly reaching towards the doorway, seeking for Meribell, she tried to come when she tripped and I saw that her locket was caught on a vine, this weighed the plane dramatically to the right. She leaned down to untangle the the rose when we heard a click and felt a shift below us, she had it undone and leapt, grasping my hand in hers’, I had pulled her out just in time as we watched the plane fall and dissever into the mist of the gully.<br />Lucky to be alive, we both went back to the cave to meet Xavier and Ayala. The rest of the day, they went out to look for food while Meribell and I slowly digested what had happened to us. Night falls soon and my brothers get back with berries, water, and firewood in their hands. After a nice, calming fire we all fell under in hopes that that was all a dream.<br />About midnight we were awakened by a snap of a tree branch, immediately, the whole family is awake, especially since there was next to no animals in the area we were in. Ayala crept to the outside, saw a shadow, and overheard two men having a conversation with each other.<br />“So, what do you think the country is going to do since it is the end of the war?” one of the men said as if talking to his chief.<br />Ayala hopped out of the cave, as if a monkey jumping from tree to tree.<br />“No!” I shouted, as I saw his movement which led the men to face toward him. He seemed to recognize a face and shouted “Father!” This made us all jump up off the ground with a hurry to go see the man and who he was talking to. All the sudden I saw him, the man who I hadn’t seen since 1935 and who had come back for us, his family, my father.<br />