The Alchemist Rewritten, By: Cora Ruiz Although there were many other things to worry about as I transported my flock, my mind still drifted to the merchant's daughter. The dark night sky gave my memory time to fade into familiar sounds and colors that made my recollection of that day clear and vivid. When I arrived at the shop, the merchant was extremely busy with other customers. He asked for me to wait until the afternoon to complete our transaction. It was a bit of a disappointment when he requested that I waited. But the money would help the flock and I; so I sat down on the shop steps, and pulled a book from my bag. I remember her that she had a very orotund way of speaking, which quickly pulled my attention from that book. “ I didn’t …show more content…
Her eyes were a dark brown, like most girls from that area. Her skin was warmly bronzed, and seemed to tie her entire phyice together. Even though I had not spoke a single word to her, she had transfixed my attention. It had been a while since I had spoke to someone close to my age, because most of my interactions were with adults who were interested in my flocks. It was so much easier to talk to her, and i felt I had grown up bewitched by her charisma. Even though the merchant's daughters first remark put my judgment at a state of confusion, our conversations flourished into detailed stories of my adventures and her life in the city. I took time explaining the countrysides and the other towns.The way the cold air made breaths into dancing strands of white steam , or the enchanting moment as the sun drowned in the horizon, and its rays of glimmering light fought with darkness of the clouds. I wanted to make it feel as if she had traveled with me, and seen and experienced the breathtaking moments that I had. As my stories continued, her face and dark brown eyes would glow with excitement or widen with fear as my tales twisted and turned into all different directions and endings. She seemed so interested in learning what laid beyond her
"Her eyes were blue with age. Her skin had a pattern all its own of
All he could see was red, pure anger seeping through every one of his actions. He kicked and kicked in a brutal rhythm, not thinking about anything other than the fact that he hadn't been there when it happened. What if Amaimon had found out, said something and then been hurt because the other him lashed out in anger. He would hate himself forever. What if Amaimon had been killed? What if he'd come home to that? He couldn't stand the thought. In the end he may have been hitting the other him for touching his brother, for being here and convincing him he was his mate. But really it was his anger at himself that drove most of his actions. He could understand the other trying to cover things up to try and avoid any time line mishaps, deep down
The first half of my book “The Cellar” written by Natasha Preston, was so good that I could not put the book down. The girl, at that point, had no memories which include her name and anything before she woke up on a dirty, bloody cabin floor. She looked down at her throbbing hand and found that two of her fingernails were missing.
The story opens by embracing the reader with a relaxed setting, giving the anticipation for an optimistic story. “…with the fresh warmth of a full summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green (p.445).”
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves. ( This description of the scenery is very happy, usually not how one sees the world after hearing devastating news of her husbands death.)
I had finally seen an ending to this infinite trail. She slowed down and smiled her smile was as enchanting as the sun peeping through the intertwined trees. We had now arrived at the edge of a cliff it looked like no one had been there before. The sun was gleaming like the heavens and the sea right in front of the cliff lifted its spirit and crashed into the cliff. She sat down in a patch of grass and opened up her bag. She took out a photo of Vivian, a dress and a pair of shoes she left them there and laid down to next to it still smiling.
I clearly remember being woken up by Ma at five-thirty in the morning so I could take a shower and proceed to getting ready. Several hours later, after having my hair and makeup finished, and having put on the dress, we were ready to head out. I didn’t dare catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror until I was ready to leave, and I remember feeling something cold run swiftly down my spine as I stared into the reflection of a girl I could hardly recognize. Still astounded by that encounter, we walked to our local temple for a brief ceremony before heading to “La Hacienda”, where family and friends were already waiting for us. The moment I stepped into the vivid garden of the venue, the world around me came to an abrupt stop. I inhaled the fresh floral scent that completely filled my lungs, and what was left of my consciousness could only distinguish specks of silver and purple from the decorations. When I returned from the trance, I was welcomed by the clapping hands of our guests as the banda played “Las Mañanitas”. We steadily walked over to our table and after getting set up we made a toast and proceeded to having our meals. This was just the beginning of a very long day, as later on in the evening we would begin the dance, which was very special to me in many
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves (p. 2).
Soon, she started piecing together what she knew of her odd identity. One day she saw
It was on a Friday during the winter months of my 8th grade year. If I recall correctly, which I always do, her name was Nicole. Her name, Greek for "Victory of the People", always embedded such awe and mystery into my mind. The angelic Nicole stepped into my life on a cold day, as I sat there in my school bus after another long day. I was sleepy, like always, because I had gone to bed late the night before. Then as unexpected as snow in Brownsville, I saw her. She was a vision, her golden hair streaming down to her neck. Her eyes sparkled like a thousand stars. She was tall and lusciously curvy. She was so curvy that it was a danger to all of heaven’s minions.
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
...eave her father's bedside when she knew that he was going to fade into the night permanently on that night. It was the final act of a loving daughter for her dying father, be there to seem him off into the light. She owed him at least that.
I finally arrive at the cabin, in amazement; something this beautiful sits so far back in the woods. After admiring the cabins for several minutes, I walk up to the door and gave it a light knock. The door opens and to my surprise, a beautiful brown hair, blue eyed girl was there to greet me. Her hair glistens in the sun, like fresh silk. Staring into her magnificent blues eyes, reminded me of the ocean. Smiling as she told me to come in, I entered the cabin.
The night ebbed in the darkness brUGHT t about the memory of the most tragic event in the history of the small town of Greenville. Not knowing the tragedy that would unfold the citizens rested quietly in the slumber of that hot August night. Storm clouds loomed on the horizon with blazes of light that speckled the sky. In the distance the soft rumble of thunder brought no alarm to this quiet little town. Jenny and Blade lived in the rural area of green pine forests on the outskirts of this sleepy little town. Nowhere in the history of Greenville had such a tragedy happens, and no one was aware of the destruction that loomed on the horizon. As the night closed near the midnight hour, the wind seemed to awaken the lifeless living things in
eyes absorbed all that was around her and seemed to know a great deal. Growing