Schedule and organization are marvellous skills to have; when put into portion. It is when one becomes too concerned with maintaining a strict and tidy schedule that it gets out of hand. Ray Bradbury writes about one house that remains standing after an incredibly tragic nuclear explosion leaves the entire population to dust; including the home’s inhabitants in There Will Come Soft Rains. Although there is no one present to utilize what the home is doing, the house continues to stick to its strict cleaning, cooking, and tidying-of-the-house routine. In George Saunders’ Victory Lap one becomes acquainted with an overly schedules and micromanaged mother and her paranoid son, Kyle.
The grass was so sharply cut you could cut yourself with it. The bushes by the french doors had patches of different types of flowers. There was a patch of lilies by the marble steps that gave off a tropical feeling. The house had an old spooky look but yet a homey look. When the group of 10th grader thought it would be funny to spend the night and prove everyone wrong that is was just an abandoned house nothing more.
Ava Modin 4th hour LINC Escape The pouring rain crashed down onto the dark, cold grounds and smashed against anything in it’s path. It was a monster which would soak anything and the poor dog was a victim. Rufus laid upon the doubtful and depressing ground of the dark and gloomy alley as the hunger and bitter emptiness clenched his stomach like a fist pounding up against the inside of him. The dog hadn’t eaten in over a week and was starving.
The wind blew heavily, rain pours down, and tree's leaves rustle. Reading these words, the setting is seen to be as a terrible storm occurring. Not only does this description set up the setting, but it also gives the mood to scenario. The mood for this scenario would be gloomy and depressing. Many stories are like this they use a descriptive word or use objects to influence the setting and mood.
In Rita Dove’s “Daystar”, there are several phrases and words that lead the reader of the poem to a profound understanding of the struggles that the main character of this poem experiences. According to the context of the poem, the main character appears to be a mother and wife in distress. Throughout the poem, she is presented as having a dreary, lethargic, and disconnected outlook of her current situation. The main question that must be asked is what the narrator tried to convey by stating that “she was nothing, pure nothing, in the middle of the day” (21-22). There are many possible answers strung across the poem that suggest why this mother describes her state of being in this way, such as the words that were being used to express how
Rain. The storm. The uncle laughing. Thunder falling downstairs. The whole world pouring down.
Estelle Louise wiggles and jiggles her three hundred-forty pound, five-foot-six frame out of the rocker, shakes the wrinkles out of her faded red gingham housedress, snatches up her pocketbook off the floor, then grabs Clemmy Sue’s hand and pulls her towards the front door. The nor ’eastern struck just as they were about to step off the front porch. Instead of scurrying back into the house, they dart for the pickup. When Estelle Louise finally climbs into the truck, her dress clings to her like Saran Wrap, and her long, thin premature white hair is a mess of sopping tangles As soon as she slams the door shut, she quickly realizes the passenger window is missing. Immediately she rummages under the seat and finds, a large black
I’d lived there my whole life, yet somehow looking up to it from the dirt made it seem so much bigger. Scary even. I listened to my mother’s cries out the open window as I picked myself up off the ground. I grabbed my suitcase and turned my back on the only life I’d known. As I walked towards the bus stop, if that’s even where I was going, I thought about what had just happened.
On the other hand, The Doll’s House’s Kelveys had always been outcasts and rarely spoke to others. Since they didn’t rely on other people as much and were more introverted, being made into outcasts as a family was still hard but easier to adapt to. “... she scarcely ever spoke. She went through life holding on to Lil, with a piece of Lil’s skirt screwed up in her hand. Where Lil went, Our Else followed,” (Mansfield 204).
After checking my email box, I took a shower and prepared for dinner. Realizing that I do not have anything left on my pantry, I picked up my coat. As soon as I took a step towards the front door, I heard the rain dropping on the brick floor. The sound gave me a great pleasure as I picked up my umbrella and headed down the street.
When the narrator visits her father and step mother’s new home, she discovers that they have been arguing over furniture noting that Linda is “obsessed with furniture (15).” The narrator states so to provide background on Linda’s fixation on furniture. Later in the story, the narrator embarks on a tour of the living room and reminisces about a conversation with her bitter sister, and Linda’s unreal diagnosis with cancer, noting that she acts “as if she didn’t have cancer, so successfully that I keep forgetting she’s sick (17).” This begins to unveil the connection between Linda’s obsession of furniture, and her cancer diagnosis, giving the impression that it is representative of her coping mechanism. In fact, when the narrator attempts to delve deeper into the roots of Linda’s frustration, Linda “sits down … and begins to cry (18)” on the patio.
On a foggy, fall morning sand filled the air which was no different from any other day in Oklahoma. There was no sign of sunlight for many miles. Houses that my friends once lived in were demolished by tractors,hoping mine wouldn’t be next. Unfortunately,soon it would be demolished. My friends have left their houses and moved to open land because of the Great Depression.
The rain fell harder and harder. I heard the sound of rocks hitting glass and instantly knew that it was hail. The oxen were getting hit so we covered them with large saddles. The storm slowly started to calm. There were cracks in the wagon from the wood getting too wet but Marvin
Grandma’s House Shoaib Arshad Drrng Drrng. Oh my god not again. Soon as I ended my sentence the other phone in our house went off ringing like crazy. All three different sounds of Drrng Drrng, a nerve wracking repetitive melody that is probably supposed to be relaxing, and of course my mom’s voice screaming: “Shoaib answer the phone!!”.
The Storm Lightning crashes overhead as I race back into the house, dripping wet. I was just returning back from an adventure in the woods. The storm was unexpected, even the forecasters had never expected it. Luckily, I managed to make it back inside safely.
