You have been stranded on a desert island. Describe your first 24 hours alone on the island.
Hannah Greenslade Y10 Coursework Assignment 2 5/11/01 Option 3 Task; You have been stranded on a desert island. Describe your first 24 hours alone on the island. The first thing that hit me was the smell. Even before I opened my eyes, I knew where I was. The tantalizing scent of washed-up waves and bananas all rolled into one. I felt the millions of grains of sand, hot against my fingers and the cool breeze against my face, - a relief from the sweltering sun. I heard the sea crawling onto the sand and, further away, the same monster dashing against the rocks. As I opened my mouth to take in a gulp of air, I tasted salt in my throat. Not the same taste as on Brighton Pier, when you look over into the sea, but a fresh, clean one, as if taking in pure oxygen. Only then, when my four other senses had taken in their share of my surroundings, did I allow myself to open my eyes. I was amazed at how easily fantasy and reality intertwined at that moment. It was like continuing a dream after waking up. As I lifted my eyelids, as the barrier between my imagination and actuality was removed, the accuracy of my prediction astounded me. As I sat up and looked around, I realized that I must have been asleep for a long time, as my sopping wet clothes were completely dry. I could just see the island on which I had been staying, a strip of land on the contrasting horizon. The rubber
A Foreboding Night. Ian sat on the curb, his hands buried deep inside the pocket of his jeans.
A Foreboding Night Ian sat on the curb, his hands buried deep inside the pocket of his jeans. Puddles of rain filled the gaps between the uneven concrete, reflecting the eerie glow of the streetlamps. The oppressive night air never failed to release its grasp on him. The hairs on his arm tingled as the chilling wind breathed into his face, whispering unnerving secrets into his ear. He glanced at his wristwatch. At last, with its headlights flashing, a taxi broke through the end of the street. Ian sprang up and waved frantically at the car. The tires screeched as it skidded to a halt. Ian opened the door and felt a rush of relief as he plopped himself onto the worn-out leather seat. A faint yellow glow emanated from the lights on the peeling ceiling. The taxi driver peered at him through the rearview mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, devoid of all emotions. "Where to?" he rasped. Ian glanced around uneasily. "Where do you want to go?" the driver repeated. The harshness of his tone struck Ian into silence. His throat felt tight as he struggled to think of a place. Sweat began to trickle down his neck. Something wasn't right. Trees, bushes, and streetlamps whirred by as the car sped along the streets, its headlights piercing through the wilderness of night like the eyes of a wolf. Spilling out its light onto the ribbon of slick concrete, the crescent moon followed the car and
Creative Writing - Gratuitous Vengeance
Gratuitous Vengeance "Son, hurry up, you're going to be late for school." "Yeh whatever dad, it's nothing new." "But it's your first day!" Yes - it was my first day at school and no - I wasn't nervous, I wasn't scared, and I wasn't worried, I was ready. What's the big deal anyway? Constantly, consistently moving house and schools, you kind of adapt to it, like an animal adapting to its conditions, you know? Here we were. Shattering, scratched, small windows; crumbling, decaying, aged bricks; inexpensive, inert sheds and lots of helpless, dim morons to use for my liking. Dominating this school will be as easy as A.B.C. It wasn't exactly the best looking school but no matter, I'd be gone within a week... Okay, by my second glance, this school had some pretty mischievous competition. My main worry was Derrick Hopkins; Derrick is the guy to go to when you want to know something or need permission for something else. He controls everything in this school. I guess that'll have to change... I went up to him. "Derrick, I'm Bradley Crewe, new here, I heard about a party going on this weekend, I was wondering if I can come along? We can get acquainted." "It's not that easy kid. So no, you can't just 'come along'. Get out of here you weasel faced low life." "Weasel faced? Low life? Who do you think you are?" "I'm Derrick, but nobody cares who you are." He walked up to me and
Coursework Assignment: Creative Writing
Fallen Reflection And there he was, a boy of five in the middle of the forest clearing. He ran daintily, in his grass-stained rags, barefoot and without a care. He was careful not to trample over any of the flowers, and smiled to himself as he passed and saw his reflection in the small, clear pool of water. In his dirtied hands, he held a twig which he threw up into the air every ten steps or so, his auburn hair ruffled by the silent breeze. He stopped abruptly next to the pool of water, and his smile slowly slipped away as the water clouded and ripples formed, although nothing had touched the surface. He kneeled down next to the pool of water, and his face became emotionless, as if he no longer knew what he was doing as he stared into the pool's depths. He saw her, and his hand swept through the air and closed on a flower. Its petals were delicate, white and radiant with light. It had not yet blossomed to full magnitude but was graceful and beautiful beyond comprehension. He pulled on the stem gently, easing it in one smooth action out of the dirt and into the air, breathing in its scent. * * * * * The young girl screamed. Screams that filled the silent night air, screams of anguish and relief. And then, she was no more. She lies inside a coffin made of wood, atop a hill. Her gravestone bears no words. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she holds a book, beneath
Short Story: Suspicious bed. I would always be the root of a practical joke. But I was prepared this time. I had my eyes open and alert.
I was nervous as I approached the hotel's restaurant. I had just arrived at one of those old rustic cabin type hotels in the countryside. My friends and I were spending the weekend at Mt. Hood, Oregon, to get away from the busy city life of Portland. It would be a nice retreat, and a great time to relax and enjoy the outdoors. And I was nervous as I entered the old restaurant. I could smell the sweet scent of maple syrup lingering in the air. And the warmth of the crackling fire was almost comforting. I was still nervous. My friends, all loved playing practical jokes on me. It was as if they did it for a living! Every time we would get together for any occasion, I would always be the root of a practical joke. But I was prepared this time. I had my eyes open and alert. Throughout the entire evening, their mirth was excessive, far too great. Synthetic smiles were slapped on everyone's faces. Every cheerful action they did screamed, "FAKE!" I smelled a practical joke in the air. But what was it? I was watchful, restless. I did not let a single word escape my ears. Nor did I let a single movement escape my vision. Everyone seemed to me, an object of suspicion. I didn't even trust the waiters and waitresses. I ate my dinner cautiously as well, examining every piece of salmon steak before taking a bite. I could sense the joke getting nearer, and nearer. I was extremely alert.
Cloning Informative Speech. As the technology used to clone mammals improves, it becomes more and more likely that humans could one day be clones as well.
Cloning Speech Have you ever wished you could have a clone of yourself? Someone to do your homework, tidy your room or go to school for you when you just can't be bothered. Imagine if you had a clone. What would you do? As the technology used to clone mammals improves, it becomes more and more likely that humans could one day be clones as well. Clones are genetically identical organisms. This, in simpler terms, means that every single piece of DNA is exactly the same between the 'clones' which causes them to have exactly the same features. Clones are completely possible and the study of animal clones can lead to greater understanding of age and age-related disorders. Also, cloning could be used in future to preserve endangered species, which is an ever increasing threat to some populations in our world. The first cloned mammal was Dolly the sheep, cloned in 1996. This experiment is probably one of the most controversial in the science of cloning. The procedure involved implanting a nucleus from one sheep into the egg cell of another, and therefore cloning the sheep from which the nucleus was from. This was a major development in this particular field of science, however with it, it carried many ethical issues. During the experiment there were 277 attempts, with only 1 being successful - that success was Dolly. There was a high rate of still born and abnormal sheep, this
Describe the scene of a school lunch hall
Describe the scene of a school lunch hall Condensation slides its way down the window, leaving behind it a ribbon of smooth, murky darkness. The sheer suffocating heat and humidity inside suggests the number of drenched bodies seeking refuge from the relentless onslaught of rain. In one corner, a single teacher loses the battle to restrain a group of shouting children and is swamped in a wave of uniformed bodies. Buzzing with anticipation, their instincts triggered by the promise of food, the mass of children charges past him into the canteen. Dragging back some small measure of control, he finally manages to stem the flow and continues to thin out the crowd at a steadier pace with many jealous glances towards the table where several of his fellow teachers lounge, indulging in a few sweet, children-free minutes. As the room fills, the shouts, yells and vague discussion coming from the hoard of tatty teenagers rise to a pitch and volume that could shame a football crowd. Wanting to live up to their reputation, the children continue their barrage of sound, undeterred by the half-hearted efforts of their teachers. Finally, however, as the initial rush of eager bodies reduces, the disruption falls to a minimum and the children split off into groups. At the centre of one such gathering sits a rather plain girl putting up with the unwanted attention of several of her social
The Lottery: Free choice, self knowledge and Guilt
FINDING YOURSELF THROUGH THE PAIN Based on the Novel: The Lottery By: Beth Goobie Student: Monique Roopanram Teacher: Ms. Kirshenblat Course: ENG1D5-04 Date: Friday, June 8, 2007 There are many instances in our lives which prompt us to ask ourselves the questions: "Who am I?", "What am I doing here?", "Does anyone know I exist?", "Does anybody care about me?", "Why am I doing this?", and "What was I thinking?". Life is full of opportunities to achieve excellence or failure. Some of us choose excellence, some choose failure, and some are not given a choice. In the novel The Lottery, Sal Hanson is chosen as the year's lottery winner at her school Saskatoon Collegiate (S.C.). This role enables the Shadow Council to take advantage of her by making her do their "dirty work". Not only is the role of the lottery winner demeaning, but it also takes Sal on a journey where she learns free choice, self-knowledge, and guilt. Having free choice is essential for individuals in order to define what kind of person they are, and who they aspire to be. After Sal Hanson is chosen as the lottery winner, the luxury of free choice is taken from her. The Shadow Council has control over Sal's choices that, now, consist of following Shadow Council's orders to a tee or suffering the consequence of receiving demerits. "She felt the leash around her throat, tightening like the silence
In the text "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time" the author Mark Haddon is able to gain our sympathy for and our understanding of Christopher because we learn to see things from his perspective. Discuss.
In the text "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time" the author Mark Haddon is able to gain our sympathy for and our understanding of Christopher because we learn to see things from his perspective. Discuss. Mark Haddon's touching novel, "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time," is a brilliant journey into a world that few people can even contemplate. What must it be like to have a literal mind that can process only certain types of arcane information but is powerless to handle the everyday social interactions that we all take for granted? By writing this book from Christopher's point of view, Haddon creates deep compassion for Christopher and enables the reader to feel this boy's confusion, anger, and heartbreak as his life begins to unravel. Haddon not only lifts the curtain on the world of a boy with Aspersers, but he also explores the strain that having such a child places on his parents. Christopher's mother left. Although there is no doubt Christopher's mother shows tenderness and devotion towards him, as is expressed in her desire to communicate with him though letters and her need to connect with him on a physical and an emotionally deeper level "Let me hold your hand" (p194) she still chose to leave Christopher. Christopher's mother chose to leave for several reasons, the most prominent of which was Christopher's condition. Christopher has
Supermarket Description - Sleek, automatic, glass doors slid smoothly open, only to divulge a cacophony of noise.
Sleek, automatic, glass doors slid smoothly open, only to divulge a cacophony of noise. Children wailed. Tills beeped. Sound system boomed. Floor polishers whirred. In comparison, the rumbling cars and chattering birds of the outside world were nothing. Accompanying the noise flamboyant red signs stood tall and proud, enticing innocent shoppers towards them with sweet words and tempting promises. Aisles braced themselves against the pulsating throng of vibrant colours. Customers pushed and shoved as they tried to squeeze past one another trying to gain access to the many bargains. The sun's scorching golden rays outside would have been sorely tempting to many if not for the cool breeze of the air conditioner oozing through the gaps between each customer. CRASH! Each trolley collision resonated like a thousand crashing cymbals. Shelf stackers dissolved into the chaos. A boa constrictor's victim, trapped in the reptile's stomach, would have had more room to breathe than here; it truly was as busy as a hive full of bees rushing to make honeycombs for their queen. All the while, the bakery and rotisserie battled it out with each other to grab customers; they reached out in smoky tendrils of alluring aromas. Freshly baked bread, hot and crisp, mesmerised countless... but who could resist the delectable taste of honey roast chicken, tender and succulent? Elsewhere, employees
