"Hey boy, why are you blanking out?" An old man wearing strange white long coat type dress shouted.
"Hmm... What? Who are you?" Boy spacing out asked the old man.
The boy standing on the platform asked. Confusion on his face could be seen clearly as if he was not clear what was happening.
"Don't joke around here kid, you are standing on the spiritual platform... focus." The old man said.
After that old man started praying some kind of poem or we better say an incantation. The boy standing on the platform started linking all the things that old man said to him.
In the end, he reached a conclusion. He was no longer in the world he knew and all this happening to him as same as novels and anime he had seen. The thing he always wished to happen, at last, it came true.
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At first, the old man just wanted to finish all the incantation quickly but after the golden bright light, his expressions changed.
Boy standing on the platform had his eyes closed and he could feel the warmth coming from his of his body. Countless different symbols and knowledge were rushing into his brain.
After the boy opened his eyes he saw that the old man with his mouth opened as wide as a fist could easily move inside with any problem.
"Old man, what happened why you are staring at me like this? I haven't kidnapped your granddaughter so stop staring at me like this." The boy said after seeing the old man.
"Ah, I do have a Granddaughter would you like to marry her?" The old man said after hearing the boy.
'Is this old man retard? Will he give his granddaughter to anyone? why is he acting like this?... I should move from here as soon as possible.'
With that, the boy walked away but when the old man came to his senses he quickly asked: "What's your
I also don't own the idea, it was requested to me by the wonderful Amanda. Thank you so much! I hope I did this idea justice.
At the same time: Snap-Whoosh-Growl-Snap-Whoosh-Growl! Return with a fierceness, causing the rest of the men to separate into two groups with some moving to the left in search of the origin of the beastly sounds and the others moving to the right, combining their numbers with those searching for their missing brethren, while Gottlieb stays behind.
He pulled off on a gravel road and drove a few miles, on the right of the road was a hitch-hiker. When Mr. Shiftlet pulled up next to him, the boy said, “Hello sir, would you mind taking me to Brewton, Alabama? It’s only 64 miles away, I won’t bother you, I promise.” “No, I wouldn’t mind, hop in. These are my two daughters, Isabelle and Kristine.
I knew it would happen. As much as I tried to stay optimistic, to put off my feelings of suspicion to an old man's negativity, I knew that this case would cost me something more than just my reputation in the town and that didn't even really matter. In Maycomb, reputation is a day by day concept. Sure, we have more than enough of our fair share of immovable gossipers, and drama kings and queens looking for a story to spread. But in everyone's own mind, if you did something stupid, immoral, or just mildly humorous or entertaining, it was the talk of the town and you were judged terribly for a few days, a few weeks tops. Then the whispers, and glances faded to conversations over coffee, and deep inside jokes. My reputation didn't bother me one bit.
...life has become and what is should have been. He realizes that the beast was actually the person that he met for the second time back in the house in Weatherend at the beginning of the story.
“One day the kid wrote on the blackboard: “I see the ball.” And the old man studied it awhile and said, slowly, gingerly: “I ... see ... the … ball.” Maniac whooped, “ You’re reading!” “I'm reading!” Yipped the old man.His smile was so wide he’d have to break it into sections to fit it through the doorway.
Than he set a candle up in the middle of this thing that had a bunch of lights shinning on it. In the background there was a big Buddha. After the Buddha had put the candle in the holder he bowed to it three times and started to chant something in a different language. After the chat he read a passage and went back to chanting.
On 7/16/16 at approximately 1909 hours, my partner, Officer Acosta #0044, and I, Officer Harrell #3441 were working normal patrol assigned to unit 2A26. We were in full police uniform and operating a marked black and white police vehicle. We were dispatched to a radio call of a critical missing from 1605 Glen Ave.
Suddenly the lady cried “He was only 16” “He was only 16” So he knew why she didn’t answer him the first time he asked her and said “Do you mean your son” “Yes” the lady answered. “What happened to him” Billy said . “He was just playing with his friends when the…………………..” And as she began to tell him about her son he reached his pocket and picked his knife and started to cut the ropes and when she finished .
Upon the eighth night, the narrator proceeded to the old man's room as usual; however, on this night, something was different. "Never before that night had I felt the extent of my powers--of my sagacity.
You have searched me, LORD, and you know me.2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.4 Before a word is on my tongue you, LORD, know it completely.5 You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
" Sorry Yosser - No children in here". Yosser once again just stares blankly. The Landlord feels intimidated and lets them stay. Yosser sits next to Grame Souness and says "You look like me" Graeme
Across from me, a bald, pudgy man with pedophile like glasses and a ginger handlebar mustache, is sitting in a rolling chair too small for him, and he stares at me intently. “Excuse me? Are you okay Miss?” Coming out of my daze, I say, “I’m sorry, what did you say?” not even noticing that he asked me a question previously.
realizes that his entire existence has been controlled by others and he is now on a journey to
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).