that I will never forget. He was sitting in his chair‚ a tattered‚ antique brown reading chair‚ that he very reluctantly got rid of years later when my mother wouldn’t allow it in the den anymore. He was reading a book‚ probably a mind teaser or memory improvement book‚ the same type of book I still find him reading today‚ 20 years later. I can’t really remember if I was watching television or doing something else‚ but I was sitting on the couch when something dawned on me. I don’t know what made
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Creative Writing Guidelines Entries not meeting guidelines and requirements will not be accepted. Mariposa‚ the literary magazine of Estrella Mountain Community College‚ is interested in publishing creative‚ original‚ and engaging literary and artistic works that showcase the diversity and depth of talent of our students. Because we publish for a wide-ranging audience‚ we will not accept submissions that are pornographic or offensive‚ nor are we interested in specific occasional or devotional
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Creative Writing 2. She lay there in a pathetic huddle of glass and blood‚ whimpering softly as the overwhelming stench of betrayal seeped out of the bundle of bones which had become her body. She certainty knew how to draw a crowd in. He watched them watching her; the do-gooders‚ the neighbourhood watch‚ the office workers; even the man from the corner shop snaking around her fragile‚ vulnerable body. Each of them carried a concerned look‚ muttering words of sympathy‚ occasionally
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Write a 4 page essay comparing and contrasting academic writing and creating writing. One of the great things about the English language is that with its various modes of structure and the wide variety of nuance that can be utilized‚ there are almost as many styles and sub-genres of writing as there are writers who ply it as a trade. It goes without saying‚ or rather it should to anyone who has ever studied writing and/or literature‚ that practically each and every publication from the tiniest
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English Creative Writing The soft cushions‚ the filtered light fell upon the faded‚ dusty dark carpet. “She was a good woman‚ your Grandmother‚ she taught me a lot‚” said Jenna‚ trying to comfort me in my despair. I didn’t reply because it would encourage more of her pointless words of sympathy‚ adding to the awkwardness of the situation. “Would you like to hear about our experience at the lake in the summer of 1965?” Jenna exclaimed. Although I did not want more pathetic words of comfort‚ this
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The Lakehouse I remember a majestic time‚ simple and happier then now. An agenda consisted of eat‚ play‚ sleep. Life as a four year old boy was carefree‚ joyful‚ eternally having fun. Although my memory may now be faded; one distinctive will always remain planted in my brain. A time of summer holidays spent entirely at my favourite place‚ which I keep close to my heart; special only to me. Our family’s humble bach‚ set in the dated lakeside town of Kuratau‚ is the place tender to me. The place I’ve
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STARBUCKS MKTG408 Professional Application You are continuing to work with the same business used in the Units 1 and 2 Individual Project. In the U2 IP‚ you began developing ideas for a new campaign. This week you will begin writing a creative brief. Part 1: Background Analysis Based on your U1 situation analysis‚ analyze critical issues facing the company that could be addressed in an IMC campaign. List and analyze the top 3 critical issues. Determine what issue must be addressed
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Discovery – Creative Writing Write an original narrative which deals with the idea that the best discoveries are unintended. You must include a birthday party. The lingering light was immersed by the rapidly falling night. The once salmon‚ purple sky transformed into a vast expanse of jet-black that engulfed the whole town. Yet at the corner of the street‚ the house remained unchanged. Supported only by stilts‚ its shabby character inconsistent to the grace and elegance of its neighbours. Its door
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BRIANCA LE Creative writing: Belonging A swirl of heat engulfed the outline of my body‚ its elongated fingers clawed at the edges of my jaw line. Their torturing grips strangled me through the airport security doors. The smell of oil and putrid stench of armpit wafted around my nostrils. Its odour gradually deprived me of rationality and soon dizziness overcame me. Before I knew it‚ I stood in front of a taxi‚ outside the airport and already heading towards a thin Vietnamese driver. His bony elbow
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‘Please take a seat‚ I will be back in a second’ Said Mr. Alford‚ as he pointed his hand towards the lounge. I nodded gently as I walked pass my parent’s old bedroom. As I looked around‚ the bedroom itself hadn’t changed much since I was a little kid; I haven’t seen it in a while thought. I remember how I came in here a lot in the middle of a thunderstorm at night to wake my mother up‚ as I was too scared to sleep by myself. My father hated that! However‚ my mother always laughed her head off as
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