Narrative on Addiction
Celia D. Roman Instructor Corbett
COM 041
11 November 2011
Essay 1 Addiction is a disease that I will battle for the rest of my life. After being sexually assaulted at the age of twelve, I started to self–destruct. Lack of parental support, less than pristine living conditions, and an addictive personality paved an expressway to a life of addiction. I chose to hang with undesirable people, and was introduced to Marijuana, LSD, Ecstasy, PCP, Cocaine,Heroin and eventually what became the love of my life, the prescription painkiller Morphine. Never did I think that trying pot would have a domino effect. It led me to try harder and more addictive substances ultimately turning my life upside down. Often publicly...show more content... Though after numerous years clean behind bars and completing several prison drug programs, I still had not hit my true bottom. My life after prison was even harder. I stayed clean of all drugs, and since alcohol was never a problem for me, I would drink and drink often. I continued a relationship with a drug–dealer that was extremely toxic and abusive. However, it would only take one visit to the hospital to trigger my relapse. I was prescribed Percocet which gave me the euphoric high of heroin. It caused me to search for stronger painkillers in higher doses. Morphine kept me calm, able to deal with any problem and solve it, but really destroying the person I really was. I believe God stepped in to show me enough is enough after surviving a car accident that should have killed me due to overdosing behind the wheel. This was my wake–up call. I immediately put myself into a program here in Reading, and my ex was arrested for selling drugs and is serving 5–10 years still till this day. I cut everyone and anything that had to do with using, and focused on getting my life back in order. If I continued, it was certain jail or death. I chose life for the first time ever. I was so excited for my new life to begin not realizing the real fight was just about to begin. I used the aid of Methadone to get off the Morphine so that I could still do other things and not have to go away and lose my home. I was living independently and for the
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War Story– Personal Narrative Finally we got a well deserved break from what seemed like our endless marching. As we stopped pain shot up my left leg like a bullet. I looked automatically to my right. Nobody was there. My best friend Simon would usually stand there, as he had in the war before, I could imagine the grin on his face. The images of all those years ago started to play in my mind...
It began when we were assembled in the safety of the trench. Then we heard those dreaded words that can make a man throw up with fear for his life.
"Go! Over the top men, go!"
I froze, not breathing, not even blinking I was paralysed, standing there motionless, my legs as solid as...show more content... Then, turning my head again I saw Simon dive to my aid. He did not utter a single word but just gave a faint grin then promptly looked down at my leg and set to work. He freed me and with a little help I made it to the safety of the next shell hole. I owed him my life.
Simon refused to stop. He climbed up again to help the others. I tried to tug him back but my efforts were worthless; seen as I was wounded. Gun shots and shell fire pounded my ears like a right hand from a heavy weight boxer. I will never forget the next sound I heard. I knew it was the end so I looked up at the morning sun and prayed towards the heavens. I could hear the screams penetrating throughout my mind.
Now I'm standing here about to march on to fight in another war, fighting for my dear friend. When will man kind learn? Now, however, I fear this time I might not be so lucky, especially now, without Simon, who I did not even get a chance to thank for saving my life. Now I try to put the thoughts out of my mind with a tear in my eye turning away from the other soldiers so they cannot see.
I can see a large church in front of me and can hear the sounds of children playing. I begin to think about the contrast. The young, blameless children playing happily with each other only a short distance away from where us, the adults are contemplating what lies ahead hideously slaughtering the
War Story- Personal Narrative Essay
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My Belief As A Teacher Essay
Narrative Essay Introduction
The narrative essay aims to define a metaphor that is specific to me and explores my belief as a teacher. I will relate this metaphor to my personal history and the experiences that have contributed towards the person who I am and the beliefs that I hold about myself as a teacher. I will further touch on the practical and personal experiences that have helped shape who I am. The research that underpins children's learning and development. Finally it goes to explore the image I hold towards young children's learning and development.
Metaphor is a figure of speech in which a word or phrase that ordinarily designates one thing is used to designate another, thus making an implicit comparison (Metaphor, n. d.) The metaphor that I have chosen for myself is a "tree of knowledge". I was born and raised in Fiji, with a background in farming. My parents were farmers and childhood was spent not playing with toys but playing in cane field, with different kinds of vegetable seeds. I used to follow my mother or grandmother along the bed that was made to plant seeds in order to germinate. I was handed a pan full of maize seeds for example and told to drop at least two or three seeds in the bed while my mum dropped some other seeds. It was like a daily routine that we followed nearly half year around before the cane cutting season started. I attended school at the age of six. My early experience with nature placed a significant value in my life for outdoor
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It's a very warm typical July day. There is a big hurricane in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. I can guarantee that there are so many people going to the beach. After Joey thought that he grabbed his necklace off his nightstand and put it around his neck and held the cross for a few seconds more than he usually does everyday.
"Cole let's go to the beach, the waves are like 7 to 8 feet!" Joey exclaimed to Cole over the text. Joey rode his bike over to Cole's house.
"Joey I'm asking my dad to drive us to the beach I don't want to ride my bike." Joey looks at the waves and gets scared.
"Dude, where are we going to put our things it's packed?"
Cole unpacked the bags with the boards in them. Joey and Cole went to the shore to get their fins and fin socks on. Joey got his fins on first and started to paddle out. The current was insane. Cole was following Joey out to where the waves were starting to form. Joey got a nice wave and had a barrel. The current was so strong that Joey had an idea. His idea was to go on the right side of the jetty and tried to get pulled to the left and land where everyone else is. Cole told him before they went to the beach because he knew that there was a current. It was not a good idea because if a wave came, he could get smashed into it. Joey was not acting smart, so he decided to not listen to Cole. Joey walked over to the left side of the jetty.
"Cole are you, coming?" Joey exclaimed. Cole just ignored Joey. Joey was so excited because he
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Personal Narrative Essay : A Trip To The Beach
It is April 4th. It is my 21 birthday.21 years ago I was born and got named Thea. My mom Emily, dad James, sister Maddison, and brother Liam are coming over to celebrate my birthday. There are a few things I must do before they come.
The first thing I need to do is order a medium pizza and some wings for my family, We are big fans of pizza and wings. My family said that they would get me a cake. I am excited to see what it looks like. They also said that they had a big surprise for me. I am really curious about what they got me but also nervous.
It is finally 4pm. My family should be arriving soon. I hear a knock on the door and assume it is my family. I rush to the door and open it.
" Hi Thea how are you doing ?" says my mom while walking in
" I am doing great, just have been waiting for you guys to arrive"
My mom sets down a medium white size box.My mom looks at me and says "You should take a look at your cake" in a very eager voice. I waked to the box where my cake was and opened it slowly. I am amazed with design. It was a very detailed looking Kawasaki ninja motorcycle you could see parts of the motor which made it look realistic. I was so happy with how it looked.I turned around and my mom was still looking at me, so I said " Thanks mom it looks really cool with all the details."
We all sat down and talked. We talked about how everyone has been. My sisters school and my brothers new job. While we were talking there was another knock on the door. I went to go open the door and it was the pizza and the wings. I payed for them and grabbed the boxes and walked into the kitchen where my family was. Everyone was really hungry but my family really wanted me to see the big surprise they got for me. SO we agreed we would go outside to see what they got me. We went outside when I saw what they got me I almost cried in joy. My family got me the same looking motorcycle that was on my cake. It was a black Kawasaki Ninja 2017. It had a nice leather seat.The lights were bright white and it was really shinny.But I had one question. "How did you guys afford to buy it ?"
" We all payed a part of it" said my brother Liam
Narrative Essay About My Birthday
There was only one problem. There was a part on the motorcycle where the paint was
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Very briefly summarize the narrative in 4–10 sentences. 2) Identify one particular detail (we will call this a "salient detail") that stood out to you from the text. Quote a portion of that detail here and explain why you think this detail stuck with you after reading the essay. 3) Explain what you think was the point or purpose of the essay. In other words, if you had to try to create a thesis for the essay, what would that be? This narrative talking about a boy with his girl friend who had completed an advanced self–defense course. then one day while they are strolled two men bounding out of a pedestrian underpass. they are loud and drunk .his girl friend said to them very firmly back off! go away! then they went to cash machine and wait
In 4-10 Paragraphs
Narrative
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Literacy Narrative Introduction
Kailey Fry The Book of Life Literacy Narrative Introduction
In Situated Literacies, David Barton, and Mary Hamilton said, "Literacy practice offers a powerful way of conceptualizing the link between the activities of reading and writing and the social structures in which they are embedded and which they shape." In other words, "In the simplest sense literacy practices are what people do with literacy." Here are a few things you can think about. Have you ever thought about the thing you love the most has some sort of literacy practice involved? What has shaped your literacy practice? This paper has me really thinking about how I use literacy in my religion and how it has made me become the person...show more content...
My mom warned me that it would be too much for me to balance. I was already involved in coloabash, senior board, student council, cheer, applied leadership, and worked at Francesca's. Plus trying to find the right college and fill out all the applications. It turned out my mom was right and I started not being able to go to the student leader meetings and some of the event. I ended up having a meeting with pastor Andrew and his wife to talk about why I have been missing so much and explained how busy I was, so they told me I needed to work on time management skills and how they wanted me to be on their team. I ended up not making it to the next few meetings due to work and cheer. We ended up having another meeting and this time we both came to the conclusion that I needed to be taken off the student leader team since it was not fair for the people that were showing up. I do not regret the time I spent being apart of the student leader team. I have started to read more books about becoming a leader and applying them to my Get more content
My Immigrant Story Welcome. A single word on the carpet by the door greets me whenever I come home. There had been times where that one word made my heart beat and cry with joy. But not now, for many things changed through the years. Now when I look at this carpet, I instead question back: 'Do you really mean that?' A little more than three years ago, I was in Korea. I was a normal middle schooler, and a daughter of a middle class reporter father. Everyday was a competition for students, trying to get the best score to go to the best college possible.
As a result, I spent every single minute of my free time in after school academies. I was seeking change in this frustrating life, perhaps a more enjoyable life where rather than just...show more content...
I could see myself having fun with friends and driving when I eventually became a Junior. I still remember the day we bought a mat, with bold welcome on it. At first glance, I felt as if this mat really represented my emotions, feeling welcomed by all these new environments. Soon, neighbors came to our porch to say hello, and looking at their friendliness and welcoming attitude, I was delighted to have new experiences in a new country. School life was great; I had close relationship with diverse friends with different types of interest, ideals, and appearance. There were still some prejudice and stereotypes but it wasn't something that intimidated or offended me. It was something that any other country, including Korea, will have. I even got to learn golf in my freshmen year for the first time. In Korea, golf is a sport for extremely wealthy in Korea. Three years later, I was a Junior. I was looking forward to another great year, but it didn't meet my expectations. It was the year of the election, and candidates Clinton and Trump were dominating the national discussion. In class, my english teacher showed us the debate between the two candidates: Trump bluntly stated that he wanted to set an immigration ban and build a wall to keep out Latinos. That debate was somewhat a relief for me, for I was confident that Trump wouldn't be elected. In the back of my mind, I was terrified to see someone opposing a specific race so strongly but it really didn't concern
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Personal Narrative : My Immigrant Story
Introduce yourself–Full name, from Ann Arbor, Michigan
Ask question: How many of you knew exactly what you wanted to do after high school?
I had no idea, and the cost of college with no purpose was unappealing
But I figured that the best way to learn about myself is to serve others, I believe that it transfers focus from yourself to a higher purpose–allowing you to ultimately realize what's important
So wow that I realized that I wanted to embark on some sort of service, I began my search
In my search for community service, I stumbled across City Year, an international non–profit devoted to improving the high school graduation rate through the ABCs (attendance, coursework, and behavior).
In all of the hubs, NY appealed the...show more content...
However, the South Bronx also had an energy emitting from it, and that energy left an indelible mark on me.
An example: I had the honor to work with a student named Edgar. Edgar was categorized as "Off Track" at the beginning of the year. He, unfortunately, was a prototypical student, with an absentee father and circumstances outside ofschool that affected his work ethic. Through everyday tutoring and coaching, Edgar and I became best buds–even though I felt sometimes hopeless in our education endeavor. But we kept pushing. On my drive home from City Year, he called me after his statewide tests to tell me that he passed to the 8th grade. This felt great, but I wasn't quite sure who learned more from whom. Did I serve Hunts Point or did it serve me?
I don't know if I'll ever be quite sure, but what I am sure about is that I realized to never lose perspective. I have been granted an enormous amount of privilege in my life. I don't feel guilty for it, but I do feel a Get
Personal Narrative: Introduce Yourself
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At this point in my life I find myself in an interesting predicament regarding my attitudes toward reading and writing; more so towards reading. Years ago I used to love reading books for pleasure but nowadays I find myself reading things that little to no effort to digest. This includes the very basic posts on facebook expressing one's opinion on something or articles and threads on reddit discussing topics I find intriguing. Perhaps it's the severe senioritis that has overcome me as I enter my last semester at Chapman University. As I've gotten lazier I can see it start to reflect in my everyday life. Deep down I still love to read but I rarely find myself getting truly invested into the action unless it relates to something I am very...show more content...
You can feed the mind as much as you want and it will never get full of reading. Sadly, I'm not the same person that I was. I guess you could say it's part of growing up. It never really was intentional but it's just the way how it ended up. On the other hand my attitudes toward writing are very different. First let me say that deep down I truly do not like to write. I myself don't personally like to write for leisure or pleasure but rather I write because I believe it is one of the most important aspects of being able to communicate with those around you, both personally and professionally. To put differently, my attitude towards writing is that I write because I need to write and survive in the world around me. I write because I have to, not because I want to. Hopefully this somewhat makes sense. To better explain let me make a comparison. When I am assigned a writing assignment or I am writing because the action is being forced upon me I find myself not enjoying the process and overall the end result is subpar. The perfect example of this would be my junior year in high school when I was enrolled in AP english literature. I dreaded the majority of the class simply because there was so much writing involved in the entire course and therefore I was constantly writing just to get a grade. Being forced to write in such high volume every week for an entire school year was not enjoyable for myself and as a result the Get more content
Literacy Narrative Essay example
Literacy plays a huge role in my daily life. Every single day I read and write. Whether it's writing an email or reading a text message, class assignment, discussion board, etc. My literacy journey is unique because I have had different experiences. As a result, this is how my literacy journey has let me to be the reader that I am. I define literacy as being able to express my thoughts and emotions. I know everyone has different opinions and emotions. Therefore, everyone will write differently and read in a different pace. Also, everyone likes different types of books, for example fiction or nonfiction. As a result, everyone's literacy journey is unique. Everyone has a different definition when it comes to literacy which is what makes it special. Some prefer to read and others prefer to write. It all depends on personal preference. A book I clearly remember is the book I read in 6th grade. I saved up my lunch money to buy it from the book fair. There was a lot of book I could not choose but my teacher helped me picked one. The book was torn on the edges. It had an off–white cover with faded writing. I remember it smelling like my pumpkin spice candle I had in my room. I also remember the book being small and easy to carry. I loved the size of it because I could take it anywhere to read. There were times where I would stay in the classroom instead of going out to play with my classmates. I still have the book but now its dusty and covered in highlighter and writing. I first understood reading was important when I had to take a reading test in elementary. I was told the test would determine whether I would move on to the next grade level. That was when I realized I had to take reading important. I didn't like having to read 4 different stories, but I knew I had to try my best to pass. The test results took forever to come in which made it even scarier. Once my teacher told me I had passed I felt a huge relief. Ever since I have never doubted the importance of reading. Alexie wrote "I read with equal parts joy and desperation." (130) This quote had an impact on me because I could relate to it. I like Alexie also read with joy and desperation. I believe some want to read to find and escape and imagine a
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My Literacy Journey
I heard cries of a mother, going to through violence of an abusive husband, and the tears on her face made me cry. My brothers and I were poisoned by their false statements about our family.
"You have to hand over all money or else I will abuse you that you will regret it," my father says to my mom. She stays quiet and stood on her feet on the solid ground, firm. "Why on earth are you crying?" He beats her up as if she was a piece of trash. "You asked for it." My mom gave birth to a son when I turned three–years–old, and the abuse has risen. He added a new target. My young brother. He said, "Our son will be keep our reputation and will be notorious." My mother and I were appalled and disgusted at what we were hearing. My youngest brother...show more content...
During my first year of high school, I was barely passing my classes and was mentally anxious because of witnessing domestic violence, as a result not getting the best grades that I know I can accomplish. Domestic violence played a large part of my life because I witnessed my father and my paternal grandparents hitting my brother with a shoe in the car, locked him up in cages, slapped him across his face, and pushed him down the staircase. He hit my mom violently without mercy. I tried my very best to stop them, but instead, was pushed aside. As a child, I was always an introvert because of domestic violence and bullying. I would never burst into laughter or never stuck around for a conservation and would always prevent them. I was the type of person who would always take criticisms from others and always thought I had to alter my temperament. My family has always encouraged me to become more nonchalant during my hardships with managing my time with studying for tests and homework and my social anxiety. They have continued to support my decisions and my endeavors to this
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Narrative Essay On Domestic Abuse
Tyler Douglas Professor Thamm Eng 101–10:00 a.m. Due: Sep. 29, 2008 Essay #1 Narrative A major role in my life would definitely be sports. It is almost as if I look up to sports because I could not live without them. Sports pretty much define me as me. I love to play sports as well as watch all kinds of sports on T.V. and if I could ever go to a game and watch the players play live I would be thrilled. Basically sports define me because I am ambitious, I finish what I start, I set goals for myself, and I am a fierce competitor in which I love to win and I hate to lose. The greatest part about sports to me is living for the moment when the game is on the line and the pressure is on can you come through and make a play for your...show more content...
With the game tied 6–6 that is when I went into my own little zone and was in my moment. The crowed was electrified and cheering us on. I thought about all the hard work the coaches put us through doing two a days and keeping us late after a hard practice, spending all of that time and hard work just for this one little moment when the game was on the line. Back to reality our quarterback had started the play and it looked like it was going nowhere and we might have to got into overtime. Then after about 6 crazy seconds he threw the ball to our halfback and he broke a couple tackles and the somehow stretched across the goal line by about 2 inches and we had taken the lead 8–6 with 52 seconds to go. When the game clock hit 00:00 for the first time in our schools history the football team had beaten Aberdeen and none of us could believe it. This was a special moment. Now, it was in this moment when I had realized that sports define me as me because we never gave up, none of us wanted to lose, we set a goal and completed it, but most important we kept our eye on the prize and came through in the moment when the game was on the line. Nobody is going to remember how many games we won or who the best player on the team was that season, but I guarantee what people will remember is when we had beaten Aberdeen for the first time in school
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Essay on Sports Narrative
They told him the house was haunted. They told him the house was strange. Five families had moved in, and never made it out. Alive anyway. He had already survived two days with his family. His second night in his new home, what could possibly happen?
A whispered name.
The boy stirs in his sleep. A pale, vaporous moon lights the room. Shadows are deep. He twists his head, turning towards the window so that his face becomes a soft mask, unblemished, colourless. But the boy's dream is troubled; beneath his lids, his eyes dart to and fro.
The whispered name: 'Daniel....'
Its sound is distant.
The boy frowns; yet the voice is within his own slumber, a...show more content... He stands at the door, as if fearing to touch. But he is puzzled. More– he is curious. He twists the handle, the metal's coldness leaping along his arm like iced energy released from a source. The shock is mild against the damp chill of his own body. He pulls the door open and the darkness beyond is more dense; it seems to swell into the bedroom, a waxing shadow. He shrinks away, reluctant to allow contact with this fresh darkness. His vision adjusts, and the inkiness scatters as if weakened by its own sudden growth. He advances again, passing through the doorway to stand shivering on the landing overlooking the staircase. To descend this would be like sinking into the blackest of all pits, for darkness down there appears final.
Opening to a Horror Story Essay
Opening to a Horror Story
Still the hushed whisper urges:
'...Daniel...'
He listens for a moment more, perhaps wishing that the minor voice would also rouse his sleeping parents. There is no sound from their room; grief has exhausted their bodies as well as their spirit. He stares into the centre of the darkness below, terribly compelled to descend.
The fingers of one hand slide against the wall, as he does so, their tips rippling over the textured wall paper. Disbelief mingles with the fascination and the fear. Small lights– caught from who knows where? At the foot of
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Opportunities It was late 1960's and it was a huge deal for someone to leave their whole life , to abandon the house the individual lived in for so long. It's just like starting your life all over again at a new place, in a new house, with new friends, with another language. It's not easy to do that but sometimes that is required to do if you want to guarantee your family to have a better future. This is personal story of a person , but their name is going to stay confidential. Like I said it was the 1960's and all everyone was talking about was how great America is. Many people immigrated from Bulgaria at that time so it wasn't anything new. The individual came to US because they wanted to find new opportunities for a better life....show more content...
At a time they used a VISA, but they applied for a passport later on. It wasn't easy there were a bunch of papers that had to be filled in and it took at least 1 year. At first when the individual arrived it felt like she was on another planet. The system, the laws, the way things were done, etc... was divergent. The biggest problem for most immigrants was that they didn't speak the language barrier just like the woman I interviewed. Put yourself in that place. Without knowing the language you can't buy a phone, order food, or even ask where the bathroom is! It's honestly difficult and I am speaking from personal experience except in my case I had a lot of people that helped me out with that problem. Second most important problem was finding a place to live. After that woman had put all of her money into the trip, she didn't have enough to rent an apartment or live together with other people. Luckily for her, she had relatives in Arkansas so she moved in with them. Third hardest part was not knowing where anything is located. In Bulgaria the cities are pretty small compared to the cities here. The cities there are even smaller than the suburbs.Over there
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Narrative Essay About Immigration
Personal
Throughout his life's work, Roland Barthes has expressed a wide range of diverse views on various aspects of literary theory and formulating important analysis techniques; initially exploring and redefining structuralism, and eventually defining post–structuralism. In the 1960's, when "An Introduction to the Structural Analysis of Narrative" was first published, traditional structuralist thinking and method was already starting to shift towards post–structuralism. Still, Barthes brings up Saussure's ideas in an analogy to his own, approaching literary texts in a similar way a structuralist would approach a sentence – by breaking them down into the smallest units and analysing the structure of these units. The essay begins by pointing out the...show more content...
Function is described as the smallest unit of a narrative, which is later classified into four functions: nuclei, catalysts, indices, and informants. Therefore, a function is not a static unit of narrative; it can shift to different levels and interact with other units. The level of "action" is necessary to describe characters in a literary work. This was the first considerable shift from traditional structuralism: "From the very first, structural analysis showed the utmost reluctance to treat the characters an essence, even for classification purposes" (256). Barthes claims that each character (or "actor") in a narrative is a part of a certain sphere of action where he then interacts with other characters. To avoid confusion with the trivial actions that form within the functional level, Barthes points out that the 'action' in the level of action is understood as a larger articulation of activity between the characters. The last level of narration focuses on the function of a narrator, which has also been neglected by the most structuralist thinkers before. Barthes points out that the narrator and the recipient of narrative are always connected to each other. Furthermore, describing the level of narration, he makes a crucial point about the narrator: "Now, at least from our viewpoint, both narrator and characters are essentially 'paper beings'. The living author of a narrative can in no way be mistaken for the narrator of that narrative" (261). Barthes's ideas of dehumanizing of the narrator, as well as his focus on characters and actions in a narrative were quite innovative at the time, but the whole essay is still written from a largely structuralist
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The first thing that hit me was the sound. The sounds of birds, the sound of the sea crawling onto the sand. I felt million grains of sand underneath my feet and the cool breeze against my face. Moreover, the tantalizing scent of the washed–up waves, coconut, and pineapple are all mixed into one. As I opened my eyes, I was amazed by how easily fantasy and reality intertwined at that moment. It was like continuing a dream after waking up. So I dragged myself up and turn my head to the east. While the sky in the opposite direction was still dark, the dawn on the east side already broke. A mixture of yellow and orange on the horizon beneath a dark neon blue ocean of night had begun to peek out. As the sun continuously rose, all of the purple and deep blue faded away, and the sun took its mighty position at the top of the sky, shining so very blindingly beautiful.
After I watched the sunrise, my mood lifted. Notwithstanding, I still feel threatened for I got trapped on an island. I stood there for a moment and tried to figure out how I got to this island. A series of quick flashback of a shipwreck, and a big storm. Consequently, I have a severe headache, so I decided to sit down in the sand. While sitting down, I observe the island and find that I was surrounded by water and some other islands. The water around the island was as clear as crystal, to the point I can see the depths of the sea. Again, I dragged myself up and turn to the back; it seemed like a tropical paradise. There were multitudes of greenery, lush foliage that looked like they were painted on.
I walk deeper into the island. Nowhere, the sound of the birds started to raise up. It brought freedom and happiness to the mind. Beautiful flowers in reds, yellows, purples, and pinks lounged happily along the banks of small streams. Following the streams, it allowed me to hear the playful sound of the water lapping on the rocks, and the sound of leaves rustling when the wind blew gently, bringing with it a feeling of peace and tranquility. Continuing through the trees, my stomach started growling like a monster who is ready to eat its prey. Accordingly, the smell of fruits suddenly arises on my left side so I made my way toward the fruity smell, Get
Descriptive Essay On An Island
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