. It was lovely afternoon the sun was receding slowly in the western sky painting the naturally blue canvas a shimmering orange mingled with yellow. The street was baptized in a golden hue as the bright star took its final bow. A the Potter family was preparing for dinner, as the mother cooked and the father prepared the table for his kin. As the final routine evening schedule was completed, a figure approached outside. He wore a long grey jacket, as to shield himself from the cold. He also sported a pair of old beaten up shoes, so old the tongue was torn off the left one. He walked around outside for a minute then he stopped and looked at the mailbox. On the side was a handprint the color of blue paint. He halted ,placed his hand on the print, …show more content…
Just as he opened them he saw the father glaring viciously at him, however he paid no mind and continued to the backyard where he saw a swing. He walked towards it and touched the seat, with a breath of sigh smiled remembering all the the times as a child he would fly off from going too high, then as he'd begin to cry his mother would comfort him with some iced tea and a band aid. He made his way back to the from off the house where the mother and father both awaited him. He held a glimpse of shock and fear in his eyes as if he were about to be shot for trespassing which was indeed illegal. They stared and asked him why he was there and he said” this is my old home, I lived here as a child may I come in?” They agreed to let him but only for a short time. He walked around touching doors walls and even their floor, much to their discomfort and displeasure. Every time he stopped he had another moment when he'd stand perfectly still and either laugh,cry,frown,or grimace to himself, causing serious tension to gather in the air. He walked upstairs to his room over to get a glimpse of his room.He smiled as he saw the little boy playing with toys, but he suddenly frowned up miserably as he had a memory of his father taking his toys and throwing them out of the
Knowing that there are other families out there just like the Walls, possibly some that are even worse, makes me think about how lucky I am and how good I have it. This book really brings to light the neglect that some people are raised in. The thought that someone could come out of such a negligent past with compas...
After this event, the reader can really see that deep down, the protagonist loves and cares for his father. As he hears his father enter the house babbling gibberish, he begins getting worried.
Growing up, everything around him was decaying. Everytime he and his father set out to find food, his father always had the gun out, ready to kill. The father often handed the boy the gun and instructed him how to take his own life if they were to get in trouble. The boy grew up without a mother and now walks the barren, deserted streets littered with the dead with his father, trying not to die themselves. This would be hard to handle for an adult, let alone a child. Readers can understand and see that the boy’s constant state of fear is justified time after
Looking out across the stone-paved road, she watched the neighborhood inside the coffee colored fence. It was very similar to hers, containing multiple cookie-cutter homes and an assortment of businesses, except no one was there was her color and no one in her neighborhood was their color. All of them had chocolate skin with eyes and hair that were all equally dark. Across the road to her right, a yellow fence contained honey colored people. She enjoyed seeing all the little, squinted almond eyes, much smaller then her own, which were wide set and round. One little, sunshine colored boy with dark straight hair raised his arm and waved his hand, but before she could do the same back her father called her into the house. His lips were pressed and his body was rigid, the blue of his eyes making direct contact with her
“At this time in my life I lived in a very old town house, where I often heard unexplainable noises in the attic. One night, when I was about 11, my parents went out to a party, leaving me all alone. The night was stormy, with crashes of lightening and thunder outside. Having nothing to do, I fell asleep after eating too much ice cream. All of a sudden, my alarm clock goes off in the middle of the night, reading 3 o’clock. I’m wondering why ...
Dew still dripped from the grass and from the rising sun long shadows radiated a calming feeling through my room. I rose and began preparing for school, but before long a shrill, harsh voice broke the peace of the tranquil morning. I rushed to my window and gently pressed my ear to it. The voices became clearer. “What… do you think?...I don’t believe... I think you should...why...do you know?.” The conversation was inaudible. I resolved to find out for myself exactly what was happening. Dressing quickly and rushing to the door I peeked out and watched the unfolding scene. It was Mr.Turrner, our neighbor. He appeared to be in an argument with Mr.Humbin, who lived on the other side of town. “Sir, this license has not been stamped.” Mr.Humbin was explaining. “Mister, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with this license” “Mr.Turner these cards are illegal unless they are stamped, you could be arrested for this, but if you will stamp the cards-” “Now you just hold on there, this license is perfectly valid...” The conversation continued as I became aware of a new presence in the room and turned to find my father entering. He placed his newspaper at his seat, set breakfast on the table and we ate slowly, as we listened to the noise outside. “Dad, what's he talking about?” He glanced at me from behind the drabby gray paper “He is upset because Mr.Turner did not pay to get a stamp for his license.” This sounded funny to me. “Why would Mr.Turner need a stamp
When the two-year old male arrived, he was very shy and made little contact with those who were surrounding him. The only eye contact that he made was with his grandmother. He said no more than “hey” to those in the room as he covered his face in the bosom of his grandmother. After about thirty-five minutes of being at what appeared to be a strange place to the young child, he slowly eased away from the warmth of his grandmother and began to explore the surrounding area, which was the backyard. At first, the child d not get any further than twenty feet from his grandmother for no more than
A child’s coming of age is a universal and inevitable transition that Seth does not foresee or even expect, and until looking back on it almost thirty-five years later, he does not realize the true significance of his passage. That day Seth’s very foundations were rocked as his eyes were opened to the world and its ways. When the story begins Seth’s transition has already begun to take place, and the smooth and repetitive rhythm of his life that has always brought him so much comfort slowly begins to crumble. Even such a small and seemingly insignificant thing as not being allowed to go outside in June without shoes, something which he has always been able to do, puzzles and confuses Seth. The appearance of the odd and out of place stranger even further fascinates and bewilders the small boy. Seth’s world begins to spin even faster and stranger as he sees Dellie, a woman that he has always thought he knew so well and even refers to her as being methodical as a machine, violently strikes her son as he has never seen her do and later as Old Jebb questions Seth’s mother’s very words. Until that day, Seth has never considered the fact that things would ever any different than they always had been.
She waited until the next morning and went to prison with the special shoes and socks he wore. She begged them to let my father have these things. They only laughed at her! “He doesn’t need anything where he’s going, lady. Go home and take that with you.” Six weeks later the postman brought a letter. My father’s name was Martin and it said the following: “Martin Wolf, age 47, died of unknown causes.” Then they sent a little urn, where you put ashes when someone dies. My father had died! My mother wrote to me, “Our father is no longer with us. What am I going to do? How am I going to exist?”
Five years ago the old man’s daughter was carrying her first child in her stomach. The old man’s first grandchild. His daughter had not seen him in quite some time, after her mother had passed several years ago from a kidney disease. When the old man’s daughter came back to town she visited her father before doing anything else. Well except for visiting the church that was up the road on her way over. It took three knocks for her father to come to the door. And as soon as the old man had opened the door his daughter’s eyes flew right past him towards the kaleidoscope of different shapes and colors behind him. From the funnel-shaped snapshot that she took from where she stood, she could tell that the old man’s home was teeming with empty liquor bottles. At first she had second thoughts about entering her father’s home, the same place where she had grown up before she left to France at the age of fifteen. But she had prayed that he would have given up his life of drinking right at the church up the road before arriving.
Twine is a game development platform that is relatively simple to use and allows one to create an interactive narrative. These games are played by clicking on certain portions of text in order to advance to the next section of the narrative. The Temple of No is a nonconforming twine game about the adventures of either a man, woman, or frog. In this game you follow the character through a short narrative to find a map that knows everything. The game was released by Crows Crows Crows and co-created by Dominik Johann and William Pugh; they created the game in effort to re-create the idea of a twine game and give the player an enjoyable experience. Many aspects of this game align with Miguel Sicart’s definitions of play. Sicart describes play in
I was alert sitting by the window facing the oak tree, the same oak tree where I had left trinkets “like Indian pennies, chewing gum, soap dolls, a rusty medal, a broken watch and a chain for Scout and Jem to find.” The pagent was over and I was expecting to see Scout and Jem by the tree anytime. I heard them running, Scout was having some problems as she was caged in her dress. I was startled to hear another set of unfamiliar, heavy footsteps as if someone was following Scout and Jem. I then heard the scuffling and kicking sound and Scout’s plea for help. I bolted out of the house, focused on reaching the kids in time. I noticed Scout was on the ground, trying to wiggle out of her dress, she seemed bruised. Jem was trying to free himself from the man, he was hurt and screaming. The man was relentless as he pounded him with one blow after another. Jem was hurt, his arm was dangling as if broken. Seeing, the man raise his hand with a shiny object in his hand, I bumped into him with all my strength. The man lost his balance, his foot hit the root of the tree and the knife fell from his hand as he hit the ground with a loud thump and a ear shattering
The father’s character begins to develop with the boy’s memory of an outing to a nightclub to see the jazz legend, Thelonius Monk. This is the first sign of the father’s unreliability and how the boy’s first recollection of a visitation with him was a dissatisfaction to his mother. The second sign of the father’s lack of responsibility appears again when he wanted to keep taking the boy down the snowy slopes even though he was pushing the time constraints put on his visitation with his son. He knew he was supposed to have the boy back with his mother in time for Christmas Eve dinner. Instead, the father wanted to be adventurous with his son and keep taking him down the slopes for one last run. When that one last run turned into several more, the father realized he was now pushing the time limits of his visit. Even though he thought he was going to get him home, he was met with a highway patrol’s blockade of the now closed road that led home.
The story opens with a description of North Richmond Street, a "blind," "cold ... .. silent" street where the houses "gazed at one an-other with brown imperturbable faces." It is a street of fixed, decaying conformity and false piety. The boy's house contains the samesense of a dead present and a lost past. The former tenant, a priest,died in the ba...
As the kid went into the candy store, the reaction of his face was priceless. Like all kids in a candy store, his eyes livened up and his mouth drooled. It was kind of amusing to watch, but the grandparents loved every second of it. They knew that as the kid grew older, he would go his separate way and would not be as close to them. They wanted to cherish the moment, enjoy every little detail about the boy, and spend as much time with him before he would “leave the nest.”