9/11 Short Stories

847 Words2 Pages

The rain cried as if the heavens had torn apart and came down to Earth to show its sorrow, beating a gentle yet violent tattoo on the roof. The cool breeze blew fiercely through the shelter sending a shiver down Liesel’s spine, awakening her from her slumber. She peered through the rotten sheet of linen that barely covered her shrivelled, thin body as the sound of little feet and nibbling rustled through her ears. Not of the children, but of mice, eating their way through her pillow; an empty potato bag. She heaved herself up, and staggered off the cement floor, wondering if it was wet or stone cold. Her head spun as she stood for a minute leaning against the mouldy walls to get her orientation back.
Liesel rubbed the sleep from her eyes and …show more content…

Liesel threw her linen sheet over her shoulders and found her way out of the shelter, in search for something to satisfy her hunger. The acute hunger over the years, had slowly engulfed her body like an animal; manipulating and controlling her body as if she was puppet. Pulling her. Torturing her.
The sound of rubbish bags tumbling their way through the long shoot, echoed through the abandoned alley assuring Liesel’s stomach. It had been three days since she had eaten anything more than a half a slice of mouldy bread. She shoved her hands into the big bin and heaved a bag out, collapsing right after. Wheezing and spacing out, as if she had just ran a marathon.
Still gasping, she rummaged through the bag – feeling, smelling and glaring at the contents as she sorted through the endless bags of waste wishing for something edible. One by one, she drew another object or item from the bags and placed them to the side. The steady pace gradually increasing to a frantic search. Rubbish was soon flying everywhere as she raided the contents. She could feel the plastic bowls, cutlery and cups slowly mounting to her side, whilst the mere slump of shrivelled compost lay dismally on her right. Her face screwed up in frustration. I have to keep searching, I’ll find something, she encouraged herself. She yearned for satisfaction. She yearned for the taste of something other than dirt and river

The Black Plague Historical Fiction
1059 Words | 3 Pages
It was a village on a hill, all joyous and fun where there was a meadow full of blossomed flowers. The folks there walked with humble smiles and greeted everyone they passed. The smell of baked bread and ginger took over the market. At the playing grounds the children ran around, flipped and did tricks. Mama would sing and Alice would hum. Papa went to work but was always home just in time to grab John for dinner. But Alice’s friend by the port soon fell ill, almost like weeds of a garden that takes over, all around her went unwell. Grave yards soon became over populated and overwhelmed with corpse.
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9/11 Short Stories
836 Words | 2 Pages
The night was tempestuous and my emotions were subtle, like the flame upon a torch. They blew out at the same time that my sense of tranquility dispersed, as if the winds had simply come and gone. The shrill scream of a young girl ricocheted off the walls and for a few brief seconds, it was the only sound that I could hear. It was then that the waves of turmoil commenced to crash upon me. It seemed as though every last one of my senses were succumbed to disperse from my reach completely. As everything blurred, I could just barely make out the slam of a door from somewhere alongside me and soon, the only thing that was left in its place was an ominous silence.
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Critical Rsponse - "My Mother's Blue Bowl"
1108 Words | 3 Pages
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
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The Street By Ann Petry: An Analysis
752 Words | 2 Pages
Petry details gusts of air that “rattled the tops of garbage cans” and “sucked window shades” (2-3). Because words such as sucked and rattled are packed with harsh-sounding consonants, such as t’s and k’s, they illuminate the sense of dreariness and gloom brought about by the frigid chill of the metropolitan environment. The vivid description engendered by the cacophonous words is further enhanced by the onomatopoeia in the rattling of the trash can lids and serves to convey the desolation which tries to dishearten Lutie as she battles against the wind. Later on in the passage, Petry again includes phrases such as “dirt, dust, and grime” which conjure images of filthy streets and abandoned homes or warehouses, images which serve to depict the isolation and untidy nature of Lutie Johnson’s world (22-23). The sign she spots is “streaked with rust” and the paint is “eaten away”: hardly an ideal battleground to wage war on nature (52-54). It is not only the weather conditions which attempt to dampen Lutie’s spirits, but also the city’s state of decay and corrosion. These illustrations craft the idea that the city is far from the desirable tourist haven it would be depicted as on postcards and brochures, but rather one rendered barren by the bitter frost. While the wintry gale renders the streets void of nearly all life, Lutie persists and defies the
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9/11 Short Stories
673 Words | 2 Pages
Night shrouded the boulders from view; only their jagged tips visible over the pounding waves. Lucas huddled against the wind, gazing out over the dark waters—wild, uncontrollable, all-consuming. He massaged his temples, his thoughts spiralling out of control. Would it be painful? He wondered, to jump, to feel your skull cracking against the rocks? Surely no more painful, than to not jump.
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9/11 Short Stories
694 Words | 2 Pages
Terrence looked across the grand expanse of the rose garden into the crystal blue ocean. White clouds and even whiter sails drifted across the depths. Marseilles gleamed in the early January sun. He turned his back to the view, choosing instead to watch his wife and children prepare to say goodbye to him.
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A Tale of Two Cities Essays: Irony
1149 Words | 3 Pages
"Hunger was pushed out of the tall houses, in the wretched clothing that hung upon poles and lines; Hunger was patched into them with straw and rag and wood and paper; Hunger was repeated in every fragment of the small modicum of firewood that the man sawed off; Hunger stared down from the smokeless chimneys, and started up from the filthy street that had no offal, among its refuse, of anything to eat. Hunger was the inscription on the baker's shelves, written in every small loaf of his scanty stock of bad bread; at the sausage-shop, in every dead-dog preparation that was offered...
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Epilogue To The Giver
1136 Words | 3 Pages
Jonas rode all the way to the top of another hill before his exhausted legs couldn’t push the pedals anymore. Deciding he would walk all the way down, Jonas got off his worn out bike, grabbed Gabriel, and started trudging down the hill. About half way, Jonas could feel sleep falling upon him. With every staggering step, he seemed to be slowly giving up, letting the crisp air pierce through his lungs with every breath, and his parched throat in desperate need of water. His lips were patched and cracked. Panting like a thirsty dog, Jonas closed his eyes, wishing he could find shelter somewhere. He turned to his side and looked at Gabriel .
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Short Story: Sisters Reunited
1023 Words | 3 Pages
She had to get her sister out of these dreaded woods right away. Then the soft whistle of the bird came from above her head. The bird led her to find her sister; it had to lead her home now. The bird whistled even louder now. Agnes knew what she needed to do. “Follow me!” Agnes yelled to Mary. The two girls followed a narrow path when suddenly Agnes recognized they were on their way home. Agnes sighed in relief. Suddenly, Agnes heard a deafening scream come from her sister 's mouth. Mary’s tiny feet dug into the ground as a heavy man was forcefully dragged her away; it was the kidnapper. The kidnapper must have weighed close to 250 pounds. He had a jet black ski mask over his face with a black sweatshirt, pants, and shoes. His body appeared disproportionate as his legs were stubby and his torso was lengthy. Agnes’ mind was racing. She needed to save her sister, but how? Agnes looked around frantically when suddenly she saw the bird perched on a pointy, coarse, medium sized rock. Agnes heaved the rock and delivered a strong hit to the kidnapper’s head. The kidnapper glanced up at Agnes, but then his black beady eyes started to spin as he fell to the ground. Mary broke free of his grasp as he now laid on the ground unconscious. The girls made eye contact and then in a split second they began sprinting down the narrow path. The whistling bird soared above them as the girls ran close behind it. Then they came to a clearing where they saw a spacious
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Dialogue - Diverted Attention
539 Words | 2 Pages
She repossessed her croissant and took a voice-saving mouthful, nodding her head disjointedly in case he possessed the consciousness to glance at her tongue-trapped tangle on the other side of the table. She sneakily slid her feet out of her shoes and flexed her toes in their freedom under the tablecloth tiered table. The ache retched in her bones and her thoughts drowned in the haze of mid-stride wonderment, but not before the emptiness and pain of dismissal.
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Apocalypse
1095 Words | 3 Pages
She came to herself lying naked in bed. On all sides she was surrounded by white curtains and blankets. They were like a mockery of the purity she no longer believed in. What little there was left of her ruined, diseased heart had shattered into fragments too small to truly exist anymore. She used to think that emptiness would bring her peace, but she found herself frozen in agony. Weighed down by the numbness, cold and stagnant, that permeated every cell until she felt like she would shatter into millions of ice shards if anyone dared to touch her.
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Gawler Personal Narrative
1752 Words | 4 Pages
Adeline was back in the kitchen, with a fresh batch of raisin and oat biscuits. It was the anniversary of the explosion at the mine, where hundreds laid trapped under tonnes of debris and somewhat gold. This was the first time making Owen’s favourite snack since the accident. The house just wasn’t the same. Going to sleep every night knowing someone isn’t there with you. Living in the bush is dangerous and remote, Adeline can’t protect herself let alone her own child. She called her horse and draped the cloth over its hairy back.
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Descriptive Essay: My Racing Heart
751 Words | 2 Pages
I was so tired, even attempting to keep my eyes open was a struggle. My whole body was drunk with fatigue after a hard day’s work, constantly staring at a computer screen and typing away as if in a solemn trance. My bony white hands, their blood frozen by the bitter winter frost were clutching to the steering wheel like a helpless man gripping the edge of a cliff, desperately holding on picturing his fate. My brain wanted to give in, to remain in the lapses of sleep that I kept drifting in and out of. I took a fleeting look outside, the weather beaten road looking everlasting. The endless rows of mud splashed dense hedges that thrive with life in the spring but appear lifeless with their menacing razor-sharp thorns in the harsh winters. These hedges hoard any objects spattered off the road by scurrying vehicles in the November rains. It felt like I was going round in a circle, my battered tyres skating round the bends and twists of the road. The beam of my headlights scuttling of the icy tarmac and off into the gloom sky being finally consumed by the carnivorous looming clouds. I gla...
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Future of Sorrow
1341 Words | 3 Pages
The smell of human waste intoxicated our noses. All my senses became weary as I endeavoured to stay awake. I had to keep strong. Dayo rested besides me, helpless, on the floor barely covered. Her eyes withering as the light dawdled through the splinter in the walls. Lips arid from the lack of food they had not been feeding us. She had been drained of all the energy she used to have. There were 60 other women like me and my sister, all different ages. We were captive in steel cages like animals with nothing but each other. The number had decreased rapidly. The women became far too ill and had no more vigour to keep them going. I watched them as they took their last breath, said their last prayer, seeing the light for the last time. Just yesterday, one of the girls Abeni came from the toilet, which was a hole in the corner of the room and collapsed. She fumbled feebly to the ground. Her eyes closed with not a movement in sight. There was an impulsive cry ‘Dood’ ‘Dood’. She was only nine years old, her limbs thin as twigs. No family. She lay dead.
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Analysis Of 'An Abandoned Bundle And Soweto'
983 Words | 2 Pages
In An Abandoned Bundle, Mtshali recounts his discovery of an abandoned child, on faeces and garbage, attacked by wild dogs. Mtshali begins the poem with very soothing image of “morning mist” over a “white city”, however this is quickly distorted by the harsh, graphic simile
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9/11 Short Stories

The Black Plague Historical Fiction