... was in great shape for a 62 year old. When the doors finally opened, Jake quickly stepped into the elevator and pressed the button marked "20." He stood there, waiting. With a humming sound, the elevator started its quick ascension. Stepping out at his floor, Jake looked around and spotted the door marked "2024." "Okay, its only 2:54, I still have one minute left." Jake grasped the knob, turning it and pushing at the same time. The door swung open into a small, warm looking room. In the center there sat a small receptionist's desk, and a blond woman sat there. "Good afternoon, Ms. ..." "(3****), she said, "You would be Mr. Jake Burgess?" "Yes, I am him. ...
... because the are just stories. He was not teaching religion! If he was teaching religion, then he would've not just read the stories from the book of Genesis. The stories that he read were not religious scriptures, but just plain old common stories. Even if it was a religious scripture, what did this man do wrong? Would you say taking stories from a religious book teaching religion? I wouldn't think so. I would see it as taking parts of stories and criticizing about them. What did he criticize about the book? Was it the holy scriptures? No, it was the technique of how it was written, the style of writting that was used, and just that. There was nothing ...
... itself over and over in my mind. Here is my revised strategy, which might just be used if the guy bothers me again. "When you leave your door open, I can hear your music in my room which makes if difficult for me to get school work done. I love music too, and certainly don't want you to not enjoy it, but please don't force others to 'enjoy' it with you. I noticed that when your door is closed, I can no longer hear it in my room and there is no problem. Thanks! So, what exactly are playing there? I have this great game.." The first sentence of this quote uses Bolton's tactic. The feeling part, hostility and frustration, of it is implied. The last part ...
... a two-week period, she told me that I couldn't go anymore, but I sneaked passed her and went anyway. A week later, I got hurt again, so I snuck past her again even though she had told me not to go. That afternoon, she insulted me in front of everybody in the class; thus, I thought of her as a mean witch. Later that school year, I accidentally placed my finger in the doorway and someone slammed it without knowing my finger was there. She didn't care; therefore, she didn't tell me what to do. Consequently, I had to hold the two parts of my finger and run upstairs alone. Even though it hurt a lot, I was happy to be away from Mrs. HAIBUS, the "witch", for a couple of w ...
... (ah, children!) Smells of old-fashioned Shanghainese cooking would assail my senses, as my mouth watered in anticipation of the savories to come. One particular afternoon, after we had finished eating, we draped ourselves around her living room. I was sitting on a dilapidated couch, whose colors were made indiscernible by time, and was looking around her room. My gaze swept from the thin, worn carpet, bare in some places, to the scarred wooden dresser, to a dirty doll with an eye missing. (My grandmother could never bear to throw anything away). She came and sat down next to me, taking my hand in hers. The tight braid at the nape of her neck was coming ...
... but I remember placing the miniature Fisher Price plastic people in them and flying them around my house. I grab the plane and hold it, remembering the good times I had with it. While moving my hand up the sides of it I can feel how aged it really is. The surface is cold, almost as if the airplane had been lonely the past thirteen years waiting for that little three-year old boy to hold it again. The exterior of the plane is as smooth a newborn baby except for a few deep scratches here and there. I place the plane back on the table and push it around a little bit for old time’s sake. The wheels make a grumbling sound as I push it back and forth in front ...
... and started to boil it. Once the water was ready they put the mother chicken in when she was still alive. The little chicks had just seen their mother die and suffer, so they were really sad. The oldest one was so sad that he jumped in the pot right after her mother did and the rest followed him. The monk saw this and felt sorry for them and felt that it was his fault. He made the little chicks who cared so much for their mother into stars in the sky in order to honor them. The constellation that the stars form now are known as the Big Dipper. ...
... and locking all the doors and pulling all the curtains. Seating herself back into her seat she began rummaging through the duffel bag. She stopped and seemed to hesitate for a second slowly scanning the room as if to check that she was alone. She went back to her foraging and before long she had pulled from the bag a small black box. Engraved with the letters P, O, and another letter that I could make out were on the cover of the box. The final detail that I noticed about the box was that there was a small socket on one side. After setting the box down on the desk she took out more items from the bag, a gas mask and a box of matches. The mask and the box snapped tog ...
... different. Jimmy couldn't really blame himself. After all, what could a fifteen year old boy be expected to do under those circumstances? His parents had dreamed of a better life. A life that would bring prosperity and success for the family, specifically for him. They had heard there was rich, fertile land out west. Sadly enough, his parents' last breaths were drawn only a few hundred miles from their dream. They had been murdered for nothing more than the few dollars and a couple of small pieces of jewelry that they had possessed. The murderers had laughed as they kicked at his dead father, looking for anything of value. They had been quite sure of ...
... king told him that he kept the most accurate books of what was sold, when, and to whom. He said that the key was to guard these books as If your life depended on it. So the young farmer went back and worked on his books, trying to keep everything in order and soon found himself to be as rich and wealthy (in grain) as the king. This, now rich farmer, bought a very precious ruby and to the king to deliver as a gift as a gift of gratitude. When my father told me this, it was one of those special times in my life, To learn from a man of experience, whom no better to learn from than one’s father. That day I learned that buisness is trickey, but can be done with pr ...
