One Lonely Night
Her eyes glistened with tears as her lips trembled. The face of a woman, so powerful and with undeniable strength, had become weak in the sight of what lay before her. The man she loved. The man she cherished. What made her cry? For love had to be the strongest of all emotions to induce even the smallest of tears
The time was 7:30 on a Monday morning. The smell of gasoline lingered in the air long enough for anyone to notice. Sunlight filtered through the brush. The cry of an animal in the distance startled some doves in the clearing, and they took off in marvellous flight. Metal lay strewn about the grass. A body lay on the ground, eyes closed. A large cut was spread on its leg. A bird flew into the clearing and landed on the body. A throaty cry escaped from its beak, as it drowned out the wail of sirens approaching in the distance.
She slammed the door behind her. Her face was hot as she grabbed her new perfume and flung it forcefully against the wall. That was the perfume that he had bought for her. She didn't want it anymore. His voice coaxed from the other side of the door. She shouted at him to get away. Throwing herself on the bed and covering her face with one of his shirts, she cried. His voice coaxed constantly, saying Carol, let me in. Let me explain.' She shouted out no!' Then cried some more. Time passed with each sob she made. When she caught herself, there was no sound on the other side of the door. A long silence stood between her and the door. Maybe she had been too hard on him, she thought. Maybe he really had a good explanation. She hesitated before she walked toward the door and twisted the handle. Her heart was crying out to her at this moment. He wasn't there. She called out his name. "Thomas!" Her cries were interrupted by the revving of an engine in the garage. She made it to the window in time to see his Volvo back out the yard. "Thomas! Thomas....wait!" Her cries vanished into thin air as the Volvo disappeared around the bend. Carol grew really angry all of a sudden. How could he leave? He'll sleep on the couch when he gets back. Those were her thoughts.
“Now is the time to cry to your heart’s content,” The doctor said in a soporific voice. “Tears are the best medicine.” Maria unburdened herself without shame, as she had never been able to do with her casual lovers in the empty times that followed lovemaking… This was, for the first time in her life, the miracle of being understood by a man who listened to her with all his heart and did not expect to go to bed with her as a reward. (76)
He just turned and left without a word. I touched Lennie’s grave. The rough touch of the wood deflecting to my fingers. I walked back to the ranch. Everyone was asleep. I wanted to run away tomorrow but I couldn’t let this chance pass up. It also prevented any chance of Candy following me. I tiptoed out of the room and went straight to the woods. I made sure to mix myself in with the shadows of the trees. I saw the river and It felt like I did it...until I felt something grab me by my neck. I quickly got flipped over and pushed to the ground.
The night was tempestuous and my emotions were subtle, like the flame upon a torch. They blew out at the same time that my sense of tranquility dispersed, as if the winds had simply come and gone. The shrill scream of a young girl ricocheted off the walls and for a few brief seconds, it was the only sound that I could hear. It was then that the waves of turmoil commenced to crash upon me. It seemed as though every last one of my senses were succumbed to disperse from my reach completely. As everything blurred, I could just barely make out the slam of a door from somewhere alongside me and soon, the only thing that was left in its place was an ominous silence.
A gust of air audibly exited my lungs as I opened the creaky door of my mother’s beat up four door car. Charley didn’t have the same spring in his step that was present in his youth, but he did his best to run over and hop in. I wish he didn’t try so hard. My heart sank as he made vain attempts at pulling himself into the vehicle. I bent down and gave him a little assistance. He was quick to turn around and look at me anxiously. He never felt comfortable if I wasn’t sitting with him. I took my place in the back seat and slowly closed the door.
The house was quiet and peaceful on a pebbled street, the moving trucks pulled up as Clara followed. She stepped out of her car and looked at the house thinking of how this is a fresh start in her life. “Its perfect” she said with a smile on her face. As the movers pushed open the trailer door Clara walked through the white picket fence gate on to the pebbled path and felt the feeling that she was safe, she whispered to herself “Home”.
We drove in silence, the only noise being her deep breathing and my short, shallow sighs. I realized just how far I had walked, as we drove to my house- at least 5 miles. When we reached our house, I looked at it, as if I was seeing it for the first time in my life- the old fashioned porches, the balcony, the huge, beautiful windows. I stayed in the car, as did Micha, neither of us making an attempt to move as she commented on the grass needing cut, and the mess the neighbors had made in the front yard. I heard her, but I wasn't listening- I was merely staring ahead of me, debating if I should get out and run inside or try to justify my actions.
Shannon heard her stepfather coming up the stairs and quickly raced for the closet where she had already prepared her hiding place. Huddled under a pile of clothing, she listened as he came closer. He stopped as he entered the room and she knew he would be surprised to find her bed empty. He must be trying to figure out where to look next. Her heart pounded so hard she thought he must surely be able to hear it and she scarcely breathed as he stopped outside the closet door. Opening it slowly he looked inside but seemed unable to see her as he closed it and walked into another room. He called her name but she lay motionless until she heard him on the stairs. After a few more drinks he would pass out in front of the TV but afraid he might come back, she waited until she heard her mother come home from work. She slowly and quietly opened the closet door and tiptoed back to bed. Sleep did not come.
“Bye Dad!” Lucinda called, but he didn’t hear. He was already halfway to his car. His used car that seemed to always break down at all the wrong times. Right after moving to Oakwood the engine overheated and he had to spend a lot of money to get it back on the road. And then he had a flat tire. But he needed his car so he had to spend the money. “Dad’s in a hurry this morning," said Lucinda.
The melodies and harmonies woke him up from his deep slumber, creeping into the small cottage through the bedroom window. He rose to his elbows and listened intently; it wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t soft, either. It was like a missed lover come home, calling to him, missing him. His thoughts flew to the girl that occupied his bed with him the night before, and called out her name.
The book The One Thousand and One Nights as a typical representative works in middle ancient Arabia literature is the crystallization of wisdom from Arab. There are a lot of characters created by this book such as the clever Alibaba, Beautiful and intelligent Scheherazade and the forty thieves that are so cruel. Because a lot of stories collected and the characters created in the book are told from the nomads or merchants of ancient Arabia when they gathered or chatted around the fire, ate food for amusement. So the stories and characters in this book can reflect the living condition of Arab. We can know the Arabia culture better just from some female images in this book.
People usually relate god as powerful and compelling. And the speaker describes the man as god because she believes the unnamed man shares these traits of a god, since the man managed his emotions well and maintained self-control even he sits close to the beautiful beloved. Deeply entranced by the beloved one herself, the speaker cannot understand how can there exist actual person who can keep self-discipline under the leverage of love. She then chooses to label the unaffected man as god to explain this inhuman behavior and exception. By using an unknown man as a contrasting subject in this poem, the speaker strengthens her own emotion to her beloved and provides backgrounds against which the speaker’s own passion can be measured. Love is so overwhelming that no real human could free from being affected by
“I’m pleased that you could make it. I have made an invention that I hope you will like. You just turn this crank connected to the wheel and you will soon see sparks and...” Marie stopped. The whole room was filled with laughter. She gave a confused look. “What is it?” suddenly she gasped. A few of her curls had come out from underneath the wig. Marie, red faced, tore off the wig and ran to her room. When she came out the crowd was gone, but the pillows seemed to still shake with laughter and boos. She stormed out of the building and bumped into every person she pass, because she couldn’t see passed the wall of tears in her eyes, begging to come out. But she wouldn’t cry. She never had, and she wasn’t going to give in now. But she couldn’t bear it anymore. She let only a few tears stream down her face, which was still flushed with
Cora was relieved to have finally reached her rented house. She turned off the ignition and hauled her luggage out the boot. The two story house loomed over her. Cobwebs clung to every corner of the porch. A fine layer of dust was on the balcony. It looked nothing alike the photo the real estate agent had shown her. An owl suddenly hooted and broke the silent night sky. Her heart was thumping out of her chest. She slid the key in the lock and the door slowly creaked open. The sound was a pain to her ears but she continued. Cora was so sleep deprived she instantly dozed off as her head touched the pillow on the
The man’s vacant eyes lights up a little when he saw the woman’s face. His sore lips move a little like convulsions. The man was calling the woman’s name. The name of a woman that he loved more than anything in his life....
I wearily drag myself away from the silken violet comforter and slump out into the living room. The green and red print of our family’s southwestern style couch streaks boldly against the deep blues of the opposing sitting chairs, calling me to it. Of course I oblige the billowy haven, roughly plopping down and curling into the cushions, ignoring the faint smell of smoke that clings to the fabric. My focus fades in and out for a while, allowing my mind to relax and unwind from any treacherous dreams of the pervious night, until I hear the telltale creak of door hinges. My eyes flutter lightly open to see my Father dressed in smart brown slacks and a deep earthy t-shirt, his graying hair and beard neatly comber into order. He places his appointment book and hair products in a bag near the door signaling the rapid approaching time of departure. Soon he is parading out the door with ever-fading whispers of ‘I love you kid,’ and ‘be good.’