Chapter one - the start of something new The night way cold and rainy, no moon was present. As people walked down the street never once looking up, eyes glued to their phones with an infinite amount of apps, infinite wasted time. The buildings were tall, concrete on the north side of the city, offices and high rises for business men and the wealthy. To the south were old brick buildings, a historic downtown from the original city, narrow streets and no stop lights. The contrast was incredible, in the north was the present, in the south was like something out of a Noir film. In the west was the docks, they had never changed, wooden structures reaching out and large filled dry docks. The city was always busy with trade, imports exports, everything …show more content…
There was bear mace which would work well on any animals, they sell it for cheap at sporting stores. There was a martial arts dojo in the north and a boxing gym in the south. Perhaps a more practical and quicker option was located near his place, at the docks a fight club was ran, bare knuckles and no weapons. It was a tough option and McGuire didn’t want to be pounded on for weeks while pulling 12 hour shifts but he was still afraid from what he had seen earlier that week. He had decided that bear mace would be the best readily available option and was walking down a street in the south to the supermarket. As he walked down the street he noticed a group of three men walking his way, they were taking up the whole sidewalk. McGuire decided that he would walk in the street to avoid them rather than cause an issue, when he looked behind himself to check for any cars he saw one driving on the shoulder of the road 30 feet behind him. The car had its brights on. Mcguire’s hope dropped as he realized what was happening, there was no one else on the sidewalk, but several cars in the street. He knew no one would help him. He remembered an alley way he had passed a few minutes ago, he turned around and briskly walked toward it. The car on the shoulder of the road stopped and sevral men got out. McGuire started running to make it into the alley, he knew that being in a public space would not save him, he figured that making a run for it would. When he turned down the alley way he did not come to a stop, 50 meters into it the alley took a turn into a open area where several apartment balkonies overlooked a stone circle with a gated entrance leading into another alley. McGuire had reached the end of the line, he turned around and saw seven men in large coats with hoods up masking the majority of theire faces. They were all wearing malaklovas, when spoke in a familiar
Nothing compares to the hustle and bustle of the city at night. As you walk up and down the streets of any city, you make your way through a crowd that should be sleeping, walking to the beat of the subway below them. Each city is unique in the way it comes alive. The movement of the city is brought to life by Ann Petry in the novel, The Street. Petry uses strong imagery to show the bitterness of the cold wind and personification to bring the scraps of paper along the sidewalk of the city alive. The reader watches as the life of scraps of paper and wind blowing down alleyways connects Lutie Johnson to the city. Petry walks us with Lutie Johnson as she experiences a cold November night near seventh and eighth avenue.
“This town is full of Tabasco.” This is just one of the ways the author describes the city full of debauchery and degeneracy, New Orleans. But be mistaken, The author Elton Glaser loves the city so much that he believes a the only way to live is the New Orleans lifestyle. This consists of spending sunday in the pews and riots and parties in the street. Even your own funeral is a party you don't wanna miss as a parade of bells, trumpets, and drums travel down the street, shaking the ground. People in New Orleans are carefree and enjoy all of life’s amenities. No where else can you truly experience the extremity of life except for New Orleans.
... who settled on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, where we could see packs of books telling the stories and experiences of past immigrants. I felt the rush and the excitement that characterize the city, but I also couldn’t get enough of the multiple cultures in New York. One would spend days and weeks in the “City that Never Sleeps” but still, it would take many more to truly experience every aspect of it or understand how the diverse ethnicities were able to survive and succeed there.
A MP who preformed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation revived Dr. MacDonald. He told the police he and his wife stayed up drinking some orange liquor. She went to bed and he stayed up to finish watching the Johnny Carson show. MacDonald fell asleep on the sofa. He was awakened by screams of his wife and daughters. MacDonald claimed that three men standing over the sofa started to attack him with a bladed weapon and a baseball bat. He identified the person holding the bat as a black man with an army jacket with E-6 stripes and two white men, one carrying the bladed weapon. Before he was knocked unconscious he said that there was a lady in the back with a large floppy hat, holding a candle and was saying “acid is groovy” and “kill the pigs.”
History textbooks seem to always focus on the advancements of civilization, often ignoring the humble beginnings in which these achievements derive. How the Other Half Lives by journalist-photographer Jacob A. Riis explores the streets of New York, using “muck-racking” to expose just how “the other half lives,” aside from the upbeat, rich, and flapper-girl filled nights so stereotypical to New York City in the 1800s. During this time, immigrants from all over the world flooded to the new-born city, bright-eyed and expecting new opportunities; little did they know, almost all of them will spend their lives in financial struggle, poverty, and crowded, disease-ridden tenements. Jacob A. Riis will photograph this poverty in How the Other Half Lives, hoping to bring awareness to the other half of New York.
“one of those cross streets peculiar to Western cities, situated in the heart of the residence quarter, but occupied by small trades people who lived in the rooms above their shops. There were corner drug stores with huge jars of red, yellow and green liquids in their windows, very brave and gay; stationers’ stores, where illustrated weeklies were tacked upon bulletin boards; barber shops with cigar stands in their vestibules; sad-looking plumbers; offices; cheap restaurants, in whose windows one saw piles of unopened oysters weighted down by cubes of ice, and china pigs and cows knee deep in layers of white beans.”
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
Do you have a interesting story about something that has happened to you? Well, I sure have one. This event may be enjoyable for you, but it definitely was not for me! This event is the most scary thing that has happened to me. I never thought this scary incident would give me a good lesson.
Personal Narrative There lay her limp body staring up at us. Her cold eyes were no longer
Upon arrival into the jungle of vast buildings, the first thing noticed is the mobbed streets filled with taxi cabs and cars going to and fro in numerous directions, with the scent of exhaust surfing through the air. As you progress deeper into the inner city and exit your vehicle, the aroma of the many restaurants passes through your nostrils and gives you a craving for a ?NY Hot Dog? sold by the street venders on the corner calling out your name. As you continue your journey you are passed by the ongoing flow of pedestrians talking on their cell phones and drinking a Starbucks while enjoying the city. The constant commotion of conversing voices rage up and down the streets as someone calls for a fast taxi. A mixed sound of various music styles all band together to form one wild tune.
“Raise your hand if you’ve ever been through a hard time,” Nick announced during the
Cold water splashed against my face, forcing me back into the present. I gasped for air, filling my lungs which meant I was still alive. I looked around me to find I was lying on my back, on the floor, in the hotel room Brian had brought me to. Detective Donovan was standing over me with an empty glass of water in her hand and no gun. If I stood a chance to save myself, the time was now.
On a humid afternoon, I remember sitting on that old renovated school bus, wearing denim shorts and an old tee, completely soaked in mucky water from head to toe. When my mom told me about the weeklong adventure camp that was completely free for military dependent kids, I suppose I was unprepared for the level of adventuring in store. With her dad stationed in Alaska, my best friend Yarish also came with me to Clemson, South Carolina where it was held in July 2012.
rushing through my veins, I have never been this excited, it like I woke up with all the money in