...a Grey Ford Ranger coated with even more sand. RADIO And that was Bustin Jiebers new hit song Condolences. Before we go to commercial break I would just like to give a friendly reminder to keep an eye on the sky this week for the annual meteor shower. If you missed last nights sky show, no need to wory because it will be going on all week.. Ember clicks off the radio and plops down onto the bed of the truck. She wipes the sweat from her forehead and take a swig of water from the cantine sitting behind the radio. Ember lays down in the truck and stares into the cloudless blue sky. She notices a small red dot int he sea of blue and squints to try and get a clearer look at what it is. The dot seems to be getting bigger ever so slightly and then her eyes begin to widen. The dot was actually something hurteling down from the sky. Ember jerks back up to her feet and starts sprinting with her metal detector away from the car as the object crashes down into her truck right were she was lying. EMBER My truck! Ember tries to walk closer but a small explosion fromt he crash erupts and nocks her to the ground as she covers her face from the heat of the fire and bright light. A crackling can be heard amongst the flames but it is not the sound of fire but the sound of the flames, ground, and truck starting to crystalize....
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... The growth is tremendous and we will be in need of more shelter and food. I will have my men scout further areas for supplies, food, and water. In the coming days we will be building more houses for our newest members of the tribe, which have been a blessing from the spirits. Night 80. The tribe has been through a lot of obstacles and tough times but tonight a few of my men have brought good news. They have located a great body of water, which they claim had no end to it. This means that we shall never run out of water as long as the food is harvested correctly. I have sent out a few of our good men to harvest this water and bring it back for examination. I am curious to see what power it holds. Night 83. We have been noticing the sky to our east glow red at night. I wonder what force this could be. I will have to send out a scouting party to go and see if they can reach this glow, and maybe bring us some good news from there. Night 93. Ten days have passed and I have not heard from my men that I sent forth to examine this mysterious red glow at night. I am curious to see what it holds. I will send a few of my best warriors to try and locate my missing scouts. I pray that they are in good hands. Night 97. My warriors have returned, carrying only a few weapons that the scouting party was sent off with. They look horrified and scared, like they have seen something unimaginable. I cannot seem to get any words from them, as if they have seen a ghost. I need them to relax...
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...another has witnessed the beautiful red and orange colors of a sunset. Although colorful sunsets can be seen anywhere, certain places in the world make them seem even more amazing. For me, this place is the beach. A mixture of peace, tranquility, and serenity create an unmatchable feeling of calmness I get when I am watching the sunset and the constant movements of the waves at the beach. It is just me and my thoughts at the beach, allowing me to enjoy the sights and sounds. The sun, a large orange fireball in the distance, looks like it is slowly sinking into the ocean beneath it. The sky splashed with random blends of pinks reds, oranges, yellows and even some hints of purples and blues. The water below reflects the skies colors. The waves tinted with reds and streaks of blues. The sand under me is the same color making me feel like if the sand is on fire. The dark ocean waters and the bright sky create a contrast that makes the horizon look like a meeting of two worlds. Its beautiful and breathtaking, and I'm speechless as I sit in front of this amazing sight. Nothing bothers me as I slowly look around the beach. A feeling of calmness wraps around me like a warm blanket. I am at peace with myself. All I can hear is the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, and some seagulls, flying overhead squawking. The cool wind blows softly through my hair sending chills down my spine. It is all so calm and pure. The fishy smell is not so comforting; the smell tingles my nose;...
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...breeze and our breath. Finally, we arrived the top of the land. It was a wide and broad camping site with 180-degree sea view, but overcrowded with tents and people. We managed to settle down in a flat land away from the bordering cliffs. People say the winds in Grass Island during the nighttime are quite strong, and that is exactly what we all felt that night. Gratefully, we prepared quite some gears and food to help enjoy the night. We had a hotpot for supper. A cup of hot chocolate milk up on the hill of Grass Island filled my heart with energy and joy. Millions of stars were on top of us. We were there just lying on the blankets, gathering around the fire, holding glasses of wine and drink on hands. We spent a great and starry night in Grass Island regardless of an occasional whiff of cow and grass stink. Not only a starry sky can be found in Grass Island, the panoramic views of the...
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...If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine O, Mother Earth by Ernesto P. Santiago O, Mother Earth, O, Mother Earth, you’re so rich, with butterflies’ songs and full of olden lullabies, sung by mountains and valleys while rivers keep flowing through the ever-changing seasons of life. Youspeak the language I hardly know, but...
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...As we danced above the fires and wounded earth, I flitted about lightly, clouding the skies and welcoming our new kinsmen, born from those powerful bombs and humans chipping and plowing away at Mother Earth. A yell sounded and we swarmed with delight. While watching those now little pawns charge across No-Man’s land, a round of bullets were fired, and yelling, metal clanking, screaming, and all forms of chaos rushed forth. Sprays of blood and heavy bodies fell to Mother and clouds of us flew upward. The humans hacked and stumbled with tearing eyes as we poked fun at them before large masses of us settled down. I flew higher up in the tainted air and could feel myself slipping away too, but all was well, because we as a whole would live on. I melted and before I knew it, a bullet cut through our thinning cloud and we bounced back and dissipated. The winds are picking up! There’s acid eating away at an ash cloud up north. Ugh, that...
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...town of Tarlac, his heart thumps in awe and excitement, and his hands are balled into unconscious fists, as the spaceship burns its blue-flamed journey through the night of the universe that is forever silent with a high metallic hum. Enclosed in time within the rocket, the ship itself surrounded by timelessness, which is in turn framed by the boundaries of the cinema screen, the last men and women and children of Earth watch the asteroids, the stream of cosmic dust, the barren planets drift past the portholes like luminous flowers at once beautiful and monstrous, floating in the ocean of space. The traveler search the night for another world of air and greenness, remembering the end of the Earth, the Final War, the flickering radioactive fires upon the lifeless continents. Beyond the dead seas of Mars, and beyond the ice-bound tomb of Neptune, past the orbit of Pluto and out into the black immeasurable depths, the rocket flashes onward, through years of space and time: a moving speck among the twinkling stars, propelled by the flame of its engine and a certain destiny. A sun looms up from the blackness, more golden and more gentle than the star they have always known; and as a globe of shining water and green-shadowed land appears through the viewports; they break out into jubilant cries and dazed whispers of thanks to God. Cradled by a final blast of power, the spacecraft lands on the meadow: a quiet moment before the airlocks open, a sigh of wind in the nearby trees. The survivors...
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...Christmas assignment: Ben was sitting in his living room reading a book by the fireplace on Christmas Eve. He had lost contact with his family and girlfriend long ago, when he was deployed in Afghanistan by the army, so he didn’t have anyone to share the holidays with, which he was very sad about. His family wrote a final letter to him, that they didn’t want to be worried about whether or not Ben was gonna come back alive, so they stopped writing to him, and didn’t even meet him in the airport when he got back home. He thought they were just overreacting and that they didn’t mean what they wrote in the letter, but they meant it quite seriously. He knew he hadn’t been the best son, and got into a lot of fights with his mom and dad, but he became very sad that they could do something like that to him, made Ben very sad, and by the time he got home, he was too afraid to call his family or drop by their house to say that he was okay. So he sat there in his chair reading a book, all by himself and he thought about his family and his girlfriend. Thinking about all that made Ben very sad and tears began to roll down his cheeks. He sat there for a good half an hour crying, when suddenly he heard a loud thump outside the house. He wiped the tears of his face with the back of his hand, and layed the book on his chair and stood up to check what caused the sound. He stood in front of the window looking out, but it was too dark to see anything, so he went over to the front door and...
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...crescent moon. There, nestled in Pulaski Woods a mere mile or so from the sickly orange fluorescence and neat grid of suburban streets, the Lake feels mercifully still and incorruptible. We, a group of teens prone to sudden bursts of laughter and rapid-fire conversations, fall into comfortable silence as we begin our journey along the water’s edge, away from the overlook and toward the peninsula....
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...“She advanced between the two stretches of green and brown with the same swinging movement starting from the hips and thighs. Overhead, the black night withdrew gradually as the crimson hue of dawn spread out, then, after a while, changed into a glaring orange light. Suddenly, over the edge of the earth a point shone out, grew slowly to become a disc of fire, then climbed up into the sky. But before the light of day had chased away the night, Zakeya had already reached her field, tied the buffalo to the water-wheel beside the stream, removed her black shawl and put it on the ground, rolled up her sleeves, and tied the tail of her galabeya around her waist.” This passage is so simple yet so beautifully written, such a poetic description of a woman making her way to work, at sun rise. The writing is vivid and evocative; it makes me rather feel as if I am reading a fable. I didn’t make it through the entire book this week because I was beset with a bunch of issues, including a recurrence of the hives that I’ve been plagued with since the beginning of the summer semester. It is difficult to concentrate on reading when you are itching and irritable; however having made it through more than half of the book, I can see that GOD Dies is full of fascinating characters such as Metwalli and Fatheya. Saadawi writes so strongly and vividly that I can imagine myself as part of the story. She writes a portrait of cruelty and corruption that is at times difficult to take in, to the...
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...after the same glow attracted the rest of my family and I, so we followed, but what we found was not an appealing sight. The ruckus that shook the house turned out to be the electrical tower that powered the entire street or what was left of it. The tower exploded leaving the streets black. Unfortunately for me and the people, who live on my street, there was a fire that had spread through the fields around where the tower lay, and we lived miles away from any real, stable, fire department. This put us in a massive state of shock, so we quickly scurried along the out skirts of the fire, trying to find some way of getting the fire to die out. The search was a long one, but no luck came are way. The fire grew more and more, and every one began to panic as there seemed to be no hope of extinguishing the rippling blaze. Because it seemed as a loss cause, the families of my street began to dissipate, leaving there homes to be demolished by the monstrous inferno. The same, on the other hand, could not be said for my family, who were dead set on keeping the house and every thing in it. We waited for any visual signs of the fires end, but it seemed as if it would burn for forever. One by one we watched as the streets lit up in...
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...A Fire It was twilight time. I was watching television in my house when I heard an explosion. More followed. So I went outside to see what the matter was. A column of dark billowing smoke told me the story. There was a fire raging a short distance away. I got onto my bicycle and pedalled in the direction of the smoke. A couple of kilometres later I came upon the fire. It was a row of motor-workshops and they were burning furiously. The police and fire department had already cordoned off the area. I watched from a distance. A crowd had already gathered and we gaped with amazement at the spectacle presented by the burning shops. The fire rose to about twenty metres and it lit up the whole area even though the sky was already dark. The firemen desperately sprayed streams of water into the fire to control it. Now and then explosions can be heard as gas cylinders blew up in the intense heat. For more than an hour the fire raged. I could see anxious people trying to get near the workshops only to be held back by the police. They were obviously the shop-owners trying to save their shops. Actually they could do nothing but wait for the fire to be extinguished. Finally the blaze died down and darkness enveloped us. The workshops were totally razed. Only red-hot embers remained where they once stood. The crowd thinned and I too got onto my bicycle and cycled...
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...lingered in the air, causing people to cough. It was a beautiful illness. It was like a devil, evilly poisoning the crowd. The crowd were watching in amazement as the flames grew bigger, filling up the dark night sky. The sky was space; nothing could be seen only a hint of white dots that resembled sparkling stars. The darkness that occasionally became bright from the fire’s shadow, was covering the crowd. Leaving silhouettes, making the landscape have a comfortable atmosphere. In the darkness, that was quite visible, was the moon. It was shining brightly, but not everyone was concentrated on the illuminous lights that shone from it. From far it was like a light bulb, with never-ending light. It was a round shape, and was smiling over the flames. The dark patches that were protecting it, made the moon not look lonely. The birds that flew past the moon, admired the vulnerable glow that shone. It sang a little lullaby of satisfaction, which made the flames look more innocent. The sky made the moon swiftly sway from side to side, like it was dancing whilst celebrating. The trees that were finally showing themselves secretly appeared. The wind was howling as it blew the trees, twisting and twirling the branches. Although the trees didn’t argue back, as it was cozying around the fire, as well as everybody else. Noone said a word and only the eyes were fixated on the colourful flames that beamed in front of their eyes. Only such powerful words could explain the beautifulness of...
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...The cool evening breeze fluttered by, whipping the fire around again. Sparks swirled as the breeze passed by, and then came to rest of the cracking, orange logs that burnt slowly. Nick shoved them a little closer together with a stick, and then leaned back onto the log he sat on. Once the breeze past, the warm evening weather returned. The sky was still light enough to show the major detail of the forest beyond the clearing. Bugs swarmed through the air, buzzing angrily at Nick’s swatting hands. The night was peaceful despite the bugs, and had lots to offer. It sure beat spending another night boxed in inside his camper trailer, for Nick. “The tents are ready to go,” Danny said, taking a seat on the log next to Nick. “Good. Are the sleeping bags all laid out?” he asked....
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...So there I was behind the archers, knights on horseback (of course with their squires), and our “righteous” King and his cohorts. Scared does not begin to describe my feelings toward this battle that I did not volunteer for. I am just a mere foot soldier, an arrow cushion for the royals. We arrived a week ago today and it seems today will be the day of days. The Kings from our side and theirs are meeting in the middle of what will soon become the battlefield, or should I just call it what it will become, the resting place of most of us. I hope they work this out peacefully with some concessions. I am getting ahead of myself. When we first arrived we came ashore on boat and well let me just say there was nothing here, unless you count the forest. Well most of that went to constructing the Kings quarters. We found ourselves fighting over firewood to keep warm at night, although keeping warm almost came in second to just rest after our days. We work nonstop from dawn to dusk. It is just us “less” noble by birth that do all the manual labor, while the noble keep watch over us while they drink wine and we build battlements and quarters for the luckier. I find myself praying every night for this to be over, one way or the other, and at this point I am leaning toward the other, which would mean that I will never see any of you again. How I miss home. I know we work for a noble but at least we have a roof over our head and some grog and mead for our bellies. And it...
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