Going to the shore on the first morning of the holiday, the young English boy stopped at a turning of the path and looked down at a wild and rocky bay, and then over to the crowded beach he knew so well from other years. His mother walked on in front of him, carrying a bright-striped bag in one hand. Her other arm, swinging loose, was very white in the sun. The boy watched that white, naked arm, and turned his eyes, which had a frown behind them, toward the bay and back again to his mother. When she felt he was not with her, she swung around. "Oh, there you are, Jerry!" she said. She looked impatient, then smiled. "Why, darling, would you rather not come with me? Would you rather-" She frowned, conscientiously worrying over …show more content…
He was very familiar with that anxious, apologetic smile. Contrition sent him running after her. And yet, as he ran, he looked back over his shoulder at the wild bay; and all morning, as he played on the safe beach, he was thinking of it. Next morning, when it was time for the routine of swimming and sunbathing, his mother said, "Are you tired of the usual beach, Jerry? Would you like to go somewhere else?" "Oh, no!" he said quickly, smiling at her out of that unfailing impulse of contrition - a sort of chivalry. Yet, walking down the path with her, he blurted out, "I'd like to go and have a look at those rocks down there." She gave the idea her attention. It was a wild-looking place, and there was no one there, but she said, "Of course, Jerry. When you've had enough come to the big beach. Or just go straight back to the villa, if you like." She walked away, that bare arm, now slightly reddened from yesterday's sun, swinging. And he almost ran after her again, feeling it unbearable that she should go by herself, but he did not. She was thinking, Of course he's old enough to be safe without me. Have …show more content…
On the edge of a small cape that marked the side of the bay away from the promontory was a loose scatter of rocks. Above them, some boys were stripping off their clothes. They came running, naked, down to the rocks. The English boy swam towards them, and kept his distance at a stone's throw. They were of that coast, all of them burned smooth dark brown, and speaking a language he did not understand. To be with them, of them, was a craving that filled his whole body. He swam a little closer; they turned and watched him with narrowed, alert dark eyes. Then one smiled and waved. It was enough. In a minute, he had swum in and was on the rocks beside them, smiling with a desperate, nervous supplication. They shouted cheerful greetings at him, and then, as he preserved his nervous, uncomprehending smile, they understood that he was a foreigner strayed from his own beach, and they proceeded to forget him. But he was happy. He was with them. They began diving again and again from a high point into a well of blue sea between rough, pointed rocks. After they had dived and come up,
Walking out the door and find you there, still haven’t done your hair. Pull yourself together you tell yourself, it’s all the weather. Break your surroundings before you try, I swear you try. California can’t solve you, I can’t solve you. I’m a piece of you that could fall off, at any point.
The timelessness of his voyage had come to an end. The crashing of waves upon the ship’s hull on the open sea had been replaced by the sound of lapping waves upon the shore of their destination. The bitter wind did not seem as harsh, and the sound of Lezos gulls ensured him that they had arrived at their destination.
Hi my name ’s Pete, I’m a goldfish the other animals make fun of me but I only have a small memory and My owners are two kids, but they are always fighting. Like right now Luke is pestering Amy, again, uh oh I think it’s getting serious, Luke has her book and is bolting right at me.
As I crept out of the window around a quarter to midnight, I ran to the barn to saddle Chestnut. I had to be very quiet so the master would not be disturbed. My pockets were filled with potatoes and bread. Although I was hungry and could smell the aroma of the freshly cooked bread from the night before, I knew I needed to lead the horse out with food to keep him in my favor. The horse neighed softly and followed me out to the pasture. Gaining his trust, I hoisted myself on his back and off we trotted. Miles later, I stopped behind an old abandoned barn to rest for the night. As the morning sun began its journey, I noticed something familiar a patch of woods with a frozen lake. If I remembered correctly, my dad’s old master owned these woods. I spent my childhood running
After all that Tom has done to me I’m glad I ran over Myrtle He should really know who he’s messing with Maybe now he dose Daisy’s supposed to be mine. I don’t know what he thought he was doing by marrying her. He should of just married Myrtle if he’s so worried about her. I know for a fact no one especially not Tom, can love Daisy the way I do. I
I didn't know if I had the courage to do this. Something, somewhere in the depths of my mind was slowly stirring, holding me away from the edge – the need to survive. It was the urge that had made me drop the pills from my hand; the same feeling that had made me drop the rope that I was tying to the floor, to leave it in a tangled heap, a fitting metaphor for the mess that was my mind. But on that day, I had killed it.
I feel him watching me. Wanting something from me, I know, I cannot give. Alone, in this abandoned room, the smell of death lies heavily on the air. I feel him, standing behind me, towering me with his rippling, inky figure. Rusting chains are draped across his decaying body, grinding against each other.
I tell this sullen filled story from the fiery pits of hell where I will never again be at peace away from the endless torments of the heartless devil. There is a long bitter story for how my once luxurious life transformed into such a somber cruel existence. It was but a month ago I had been driving in a nonchalant manner through my placid neighborhood after the the joyous sun had set and the moon had taken over with it’s shadows casted through the thick darkness. If i was to guess, my speed was exceeding 60 miles per hour through the quiet residential area with a measly speed limit of 25 miles per hour. How foolish i had been putting so many lives in danger, yet at the moment i was living my life with no thought of the danger being invoked
We were huddling around a campfire in the open darkness of the night. It was the only thing that brought us warmth in the brisk air. A light shot up into the air, crackling until, boom, an explosion of colour which radiated light. It was the night of all nights, which celebrated our national identity.
It was frosty out and he shivered as he trekked down, wetting his boots and the knees of his pants in the small water ways that dotted the seaside and leaked into the caves. He cursed his rotten luck momentarily. And suddenly, the singing was right in front of him, in the cave. Cautiously, he went in, afraid of what h...
He recalls on the last day while they were making sand castles she told him that this journey is something he needs to do for himself. The gorgeous sandcastle that glistened in the sun was washed away the next day. He as well left that day to embark on his journey. As Chunky Rice thinks about the times he has had with Dandel on the beach he wishes that he could build that sandcastle back up with Dandel.
The sun broke through the clouds on that crisp April morning as we drove to school. That morning felt off, a feeling that I had felt only one time before. The world moved too fast for me and I struggled to catch up. The raspy voices of the men on radio show thundered over the speakers in my father’s truck as we approached the school.
I speed walk for over ninety minutes. When I return, I linger in the street. The scent of night blooming jasmine is glorious. I close my eyes and inhale. Despite the cello playing in my ears, a car horn startles me.
She splashed and thrashed through the torrential currents among for where she suspected the shore would be. The water pulled and grabbed her legs, carrying her closer to the water fall. Thundering and splashing was all she heard now. The dead silence of night was replaced with the crashing of water against rocks. How she longed to be back where she was before, resting limply on the pice of floating wood.
Geared up, we stood on the edge of the pier, staring into the water. It had a dark murky color to it, uninviting and almost repulsive. It was 10 pm and the sun had already set. Only the lights of a nearby restaurant reflected off the water’s black surface. The walk to the pier was dangerous.