By evening, the group had come across an old Georgia plantation home that was perched upon a hill, overlooking the small quaint town of "Magnolia", nestled safely at the bottom. Because the mansion was sitting atop a hill, the angle provided them with an excellent viewpoint. They would be able to see a herd coming for a mile and be long gone before walkers could shuffle to the top. They had pulled over to the side as Daryl and Rick had discussed the possibility of staying, and they had quickly agreed that it would be as good a place as any to stay for the night, maybe longer if things looked promising. Carol relaxed her arms from around Daryl's waist as the convoy came to a stop. She glanced up at the mansion and smiled. It was absolutely mesmerizing. It was white with black shutters, and it had four columns gracing the front. There was also a wrap around balcony at the top. The front door was centered, with a decorative crown, and a giant Magnolia tree sat in front of the house, providing it with shade. A house of this size was bound to be loaded down with supplies. She could not help but wonder if maybe they had found a permanent place to stay. Carol reverted her attention back to Daryl as he jerkily removed her arms from around his waist. He lowered the kickstand on the bike and moved to get off. "Stay here, gonna go help clear it out." He growled as he grabbed up his crossbow from the front of the bike. Carol looked at him, noticing that scowl on his face. Her smiled dropped. "Oh...o..okay." She replied, stumbling over her words. She watched as he stormed off. Did she do something wrong? Maybe he was just being nice when he had asked her if she wanted to ride with him? Was she being a burden to him? To say she was co... ... middle of paper ... ... raised his head and looked at her face while he gently tweaked her nipples. She was flushed and feverish, panting hard. The moment their eyes met, her eyes blazed. Carol brought her hands up to his shirt, her fingers clumsy and fumbling as she tried to unbutton his shirt. "Fuck it!" She muttered as she ripped the fabric open, buttons flying across the room, exposing his muscled chest. She wrestled his shirt down his arms, letting it flutter to the floor. Daryl lowered his head and nipped softly at her neck, walking her backwards to the dresser that sat on the far side of the room. Daryl growled at the whimpering sound she made when he sucked gently at her pulse point. With one hand, he raked the items that were littering the top of the dresser, sending it crashing to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, lifting her until she was sitting on top.
family was they had three-rooms which were placed on a hill facing the "Big House". The
As everyone approached the Wright’s home, which sat back in a hollow surrounded by trees, the looks from the...
Another Question Surfaced, Did He See Her Scars? "What The Hell," She Said, Covering Herself With The Shirt. Daryl, Startled By Her Speaking, Spotted Another Scar On Her Stomach Before He Averted His Gaze. "Sorry, I Was Jus Comin Ta Take A Piss, Didn't Know Ya Were In 'Ere," He Quickly Explained. "I'll Go," He Said, Turning To Leave But Carol Grabbed His Wrist. "Stop, Wait For A Minute," Carol Said, "Stay There." Getting A Hesitant Nod Out Of Daryl, Carol Let His Wrist Go And Shut The Door As She Threw Her Shirt On And Quickly Combed Her Slightly Wet Hair. She Hung The Towel On The Rack To Dry Before Gathering Her Dirty Clothes And Stepping Out. Daryl Was Leaning Against The Wall, Curious The Why Carol Wanted Him To Wait. Emerging From The Door, She Said, "Come On," Before Starting Up The Stairs And Towards Her Room. Following Her, Daryl Stopped In The Doorframe, Hesitating For A Moment, Before He Walked On In. Silently, Carol Threw Her Dirty Clothes On The Floor And Shut The Door. Walking Over To Her Bed, She Sat Down With A Heavy Sigh And Closed Her Eyes. Reopening Her Eyes, Carol Looked At Daryl, Who Awkwardly Stood Beside The
“Not. I mean no. I’m stuck,” she replied in a breathy voice. He laughed low and rough, warm puffs of his breath hitting her as his hands groped the waist of the skirt again. A few tugs, and it slid down her body to the floor. His blue eyes staring up at her, while her skirt lay puddled in a soft heap on the floor. She struggled to control her breathing.
The house is described as, “The most beautiful place! It is quite alone, standing well back from the road, quite three miles from the village. It makes me think of English places that you read about, for there are hedges and walls and gates that lock, and lots of separate little houses for the gardeners and people” (251). However, Jane’s delusion is just that, a delusion encrypted by her mind to have her think she is living in quiet luxury. She goes on to talk about how the bed is nailed down to the floor, the walls are covered in scratches, the windows are barred, and there are rings in the walls. Obviously, Jane, despite being told by her husband that she is fine, is slowly beginning to lose sight of reality. The reader should know at this point that this “mansion” is nothing short of an insane asylum John has taken Jane to so she can rest and calm her troubles. But Jane and John’s troubles are only beginning when she is forced to sit in solitude with the awful yellow
The mansion is a superb example and symbol of clairvoyance; it allows for great insight and perspective, furthermore, it is the one constant in the book. This allows it to greatly alter the story, even though it is an inanimate object that has no feelings, no thoughts, and cannot talk, but still says the most about everyone’s personality. It is an object that conveys true human nature, it does not care who everyone is, as they are all the same to it, and all it provides is a place to see and step back from reality to reflect on people’s actions.
Giving her ass yet another swat he in a quick spin he ducked her under his arm and around his waist like he was dancing with her then quickly lay her across his lap. Giving her left cheek a hard slap he grasp her dark locks and tugged upward slightly.
At the beginning of the story, the narrator is moving into a house that she is renting while her house in being renovated. She describes the house as "The most beautiful place! It is quite alone, standing well back from the road, quite three miles from the village. It makes me think of English places that you read about, for there are hedges and walls and gates that lock, and lots of separate little houses for the gardeners and people" (105). This quote reflects that she considers this house as a place only the noble could live in. She has only read about homes like this, and she never thought that she would be living in one. She seems happy that she will be able to rent such a house. She adds that "There is a delicious garden! I never saw such a garden--large and shady, full of box-bordered paths, and lined with long grape-covered arbors with seats under them" (105). This adds to the elegant and royal qualities that the narrator believes the house has.
At the top of Sycamore Hill, where the once neatly trimmed grass had become wild foliage, was an old house. Old houses are often perceived as if not retaining the spirits of its previous tenants they are at least thought to have retained their owner’s history. This house was no exception.
He immediately got onto the ground to help her up but before he could even do that he felt a overprotecting need surge through his body and he wrapped his arms around her back. Amberly put her arms around him as she inhaled the warm vanilla scent he always had on his clothes. Now tears were just slowly rolling down her cheeks. Caesar could always calm her down no matter what was happening. After a minute or so passed they both let go of each other at the same time. Caesar put his hand up to her face and wiped away one of the spare tears. Then he rested his forehead against
"... she started pawing and ripping at him with her fingers, scratching his back and face..."
I used to go there to sit down on a rock and watch the town and my trees. There was a very old tree, a maple tree, with a huge trunk. The others were smaller, three in the back, three on my left side and the old maple tree on my right. There were flowers, many kinds, white, yellow, purple and blue. It was nobody's place. Nobody owned that hill, but it was beautiful and peaceful and I dreamed many times about a white house over there.
My favorite place as a child was County Park Lake. When we had family picnics because we all got together and there was great food and kids playing and the adults playing horse-shoes and could tell there was love for one another. There was no other place like this when I was a child. Some of my fondest memories was at that picnic site we should all have memories likes those.