Personal Narrative: Turning Away from True Friendship
I had begun to wonder why I had taken this job. Lugging computers back and forth, running between buildings, with hardly a break in the day left little to be desired. The fact that the sun bore down on my head hotter than an unhappy boss helped little on my tracks back and forth from job site to job site. The wind seemed hesitant, shuttering hardly more than a teasing breeze that moved nothing more than discarded food wrappers, and weather beaten business documents long lost from the suitcase they once called home. The only temporary relief was given by a saturation of the western sky with a promising, graying storm.
The buildings watch over passerbies, trucks leave a taint of industrial diesel in the air, and an occasional metal clang from one of the factory’s can be heard in a far off clamoring whisper. Today was different however, the street was void of any travelers, the clouds began their travel overhead, and the shadows shaded the vision of the omnipotent concrete giants. It seemed as though the world had lost interest on Grove Street, all life seemed to dwindle; only the landscape trees would whisper through their rustling leaves, reminding of the impending downpour. I never granted much attention to a fleeting dog that would scamper across the worn asphalt or a cat rummaging through a bag of discarded fast food some office dweller decided to leave, but something caught my eye that day. Under a sprawling tree there lay two dogs. Their eyes shaded by overhanging branches, the usual happy panting replaced by a grayed scowl that pierced my visual perception and planted myself on the loose gravel where I stood. Both were of an indiscernible mix of breed,...
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...ance against the storm. A closer observation revealed small paw prints where they laid their mark in the moist ground, the little indentations of earth beaten by sky’s water bombardment. They faded away like a memory from the past that lays an imprint on your future. Little did they know that their presence redefined my idea of companionship. To always be there, and to never waver by ones side regardless of harsh worldly conditions are the true definitions of a companion. My strength in companionship brought the best out of my selfless friend, but I also left one alone to fend for himself against the sands of time. I left a sleeping friend lie, and lost a good person not to the turning times, but to a selfish action. Those two dogs left Grove Street and I’m sure no one remembers their presence other than me. But they were there and that was all that mattered.
In the novels A Separate Peace and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time there are a number of themes. The books have so many similarities in them. All of the characters love and help each other get through things that are tough in their life. One of the problems that all of the characters face is being lost. This isn’t one of the themes that I chose, but I think it puts them together nicely. Most of the characters want to be put back on the right path in the story. By the end of the novels, they all achieved this goal. The three things that helped them do that were the friendships and sheltering that they had and the forgiveness they gave and received.
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...
Canine tales are becoming an ever-more-popular medium for expression, says Garber: “Just as the pathos of human love and loss is most effectively retold, in modern stories, through the vehicle of the steadfastly loyal and loving dog, so the human hero has increasingly been displaced and replaced by the canine one” (44). The spotlight has been shifted from the larger-than-life human to the humble family pet and his canine brethren. Stories that feature a dog rather than a person are able to more convey a deeper sense of meaning, establishing their...
"Growing Support for Drug Testing of Welfare Recipients." The New York Times. The New York Times, 25 Feb. 2012. Web. 27 Mar. 2014
What comes to mind when one thinks of the word ‘puppy’? It is probable describe a puppy as a lovable, adorable, and cuddly companion. However, one might also identify the animal as a menace and a liability or even as a delicious source of food. Why does this single word hold so many meanings? One’s past experiences and biases influences these conflicting views and attitudes. For instance, an individual’s fond view of puppies may exist because they were raised with puppies and consequently grew affectionate toward the animals. On the contrary, if another individual has not bonded with puppies as pets, then they will share the latter point of view. In the short story “Puppy” by George Saunders, the multiple characters view single events and objects with contrasting perceptions. Therefore, instead of painting a precise picture of the characters and the plot, the story expresses several views regarding the morals of the characters, the motivations of their actions, and the meaning of the events that take place. In “Puppy”, George Saunders explores the theory that perception is not an elementary, universal definition of an object or idea, but a complex interpretation that is influenced by one’s unique and varying past experiences and opinions. The complexity of perception is evident in one the story’s narrator’s, Marie’s, vantage point.
“It’s not enough to be friendly. You have to be a friend,” R.J.Palacio. Though Summer was the only one to really be a friend to August in the beginning, Jack was friendly and learned that just being friendly was not enough. He needed to be a friend. I started to think about how kids and I would realistically act around August, and I concluded that I would react much like Jack did.
"States Consider Drug Testing For Welfare Recipients." Alcoholism & Drug Abuse Weekly 21.8 (2009): 4-6. Academic Search Premier. Web. 7 Feb. 2014.
A dreadful thing had happened — a dog, come goodness knows whence, had appeared in the yard. It came bounding among us with a loud volley of barks, and leapt round us wagging its whole body, wild with glee at finding so many human beings together. It was a large woolly dog, half Airedale, half pariah. For a moment it pranced round us, and then, before anyone could stop it, it had made a dash for the prisoner, and jumping up tried to lick his face. Everyone stood aghast, too taken aback even to grab at the dog.
I have never considered that a book about a dog could be so appealing and full of deep thoughts. But I changed my viewpoint after reading the autobiographical novel “Marley & Me” written by John Grogan which depicts an astonishing story about the neurotic and loyal, clumsy and loving dog named Marley. In fact, as the author mentioned in some interviews, he intended to write the “dog story”, but soon after he realized that it was impossible to do so without including the family life [2]. That is why the title “Marley & Me” encapsulates the main topic of the book such as the relationship between a human and a pet. To start with let me introduce main characters: John, Jenny, and Marley.
People should not have to stay in friendships they don't want to, but a one time thing is different then all the time. Make sure that you are around people that make you feel good. I had some experience with both of these.
feelings in the man and the dog, of a constant battle with this world of
...way that the story is being interpreted and how the storm influences the story as a whole. Sometimes people need a wakeup call or a 'storm' to make them aware of how good they have things. In this short story Alcee and Calixta both come to realization of how good they have things with their spouses and how that they already found the ones that they love, which weren't each other. This made me aware of how we as people can take things for granted or believing we know what’s best for us. In reality we don't always know what’s best until something occurs and shows us that what we already have is the best.
Sitting in the back seat between two towering piles of clothes and snacks we drive up the abandoned streets of Adell. I see vast open fields of corn and dense wooded forest filled with life, along with the occasional, towering grain house. We pull into a dry, dusty, driveway of rock and thriving, overgrown weeds. We come up to an aged log cabin with a massive crab apple tree with its sharp thorns like claws. The ancient weeping willow provides, with is huge sagging arms, shade from the intense rays of the sun. Near the back of the house there is a rotten, wobbly dock slowly rotting in the dark blue, cool water. Near that we store our old rusted canoes, to which the desperate frogs hop for shelter. When I venture out to the water I feel the thick gooey mud squish through my toes and the fish mindlessly try to escape but instead swim into my legs. On the lively river banks I see great blue herring and there attempt to catch a fish for their dinner. They gracefully fly with their beautiful wings arching in the sun to silvery points.
The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the surrounding, it looks as if it did the last time we were up here.
Friendship is the most wonderful relationship that anyone can have. Ideally a friend is a person who offers love and respect and will never leave or betray us. Friends can tell harsh truths when they must be told. There are four different types of friends: True friends, Convenient friends, Special interest friends, and historical friends. To have friendship is to have comfort. In times of crisis and depression, a friend is there to calm us and to help lift up our spirits.