It was a beautiful day on the open fields of Ireland. A comfortable cottage was the only item dotting the landscape for at least five miles. The door opened, and out stepped a young man. He was not too tall, his blonde hair gathered behind him in a ponytail. His eyes sparkled ever-so-slightly in the morning sun as he stretched with a loud groan. He strode a few steps from the cottage and looked around. It was a great day out. He was dressed comfortably in slightly baggy blue jeans and a black t-shirt, and since no one else was awake, he decided to go for a short walk. The flat fields seemed to go on forever in all directions, but after a few short minutes of walking, he arrived at a hill. It was then that he first heard it: A beautiful voice, which broke the silence. He had never heard anything like it. It sang no words, just sounds. He had to know where the sound came from. He quickly crested the hill and spotted the source. It was a girl of about sixteen years of age. She had lush, auburn tinted hair, wore a plain white dress that shimmered faintly in the breeze, and was very beautiful, almost ethereal. She turned to look up at him with her sparkling, teal eyes. She ceased singing and smiled up at him.
?Hello there,? she said with a thick Irish accent. ?Hi,? he replied. He walked slowly down the hill, stumbling slightly on the steep incline. She giggled. ?And just who might you be?? She queried. ?I?m Timothy, but people call me Tim,? he said, smiling. ?Stay cool, Tim, stay cool,? he thought. ?Well Tim,? she replied, ?I?m Fiona. ?Tis a pleasure to meet you.? She extended her hand to him. He shook it, which seemed to surprise her for a moment. ?So what are you doing roamin? the open wilds of Ireland, Tim?? she asked. He flashed a winning smile. ?My family and I are on vacation here.? She smiled back. ?Then, perhaps we will see each other again. Goodbye for now, Tim.? With that, she walked away. Tim stood dumbstruck as she vanished over the hill. He couldn?t get her out of his head. After she left, he sat down on the hill and smiled. She was, quite possibly, the most amazing girl he had ever seen. And, her voice…her voice was a touch of heaven. Smiling, he began wandering back toward the cottage.
The Essay on Is Black Beautiful
The denotative meaning of the word black means the absence of light and the darkest of all colors. By mixing all the colors in the rainbow you also can get the color black. Researching the word black made me think about the connotations of the word and its many meanings that differ from the definition of color in the dictionary. When black is added onto a noun it turns from a color to a negative ...
When he arrived, he could see that most of the family was outside. Cole was leaned against a small tree, scribbling in a notebook. Sean was keeping the younger siblings busy playing some game or another; it was probably tag. He could see his mother sitting in a chair holding the baby. His dad was probably inside. He meandered towards them. His mother called out as he got close, ?Where did you get off to so early?? He looked up at her. ?Uhm, nowhere, Mom. I just went for a walk.? ?All right,? she responded. ?Just leave a note next time, please. We were a little concerned.? He didn?t even respond; he just walked inside and flopped down on the couch. His dad sat in a nearby chair reading the newspaper. ?Good mornin?,? his dad said, looking up from the paper. ?Hey, Dad,? Tim responded. The conversation ended there.
Tim spent the rest of the day thinking about her. Fiona. The name echoed through his mind. Fiona. That beautiful voice. It carried with him endlessly. He didn?t eat much that night, but sleep came blessedly quick. He awoke with a start sometime the next morning, camped out on the floor of the main room This cabin had only two bedrooms, so the boys had to sleep on the floor. He looked at his watch; it was 3:00 a.m. He wondered what had awakened him when he heard that voice. Her voice. He rose from his bed and walked to the door. He stepped out into the night wearing only sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was chilly out, but he didn?t notice or care. He started walking, following her voice which was echoing in the distance. She seemed to elude him in these hills; he couldn?t catch her. He heard her giggle; she was playing with him. Suddenly, he felt an urge. He breathed in deep and started to sing with her. No words, just music. Their voices intertwined to form a harmony that was almost inhuman; almost heavenly. AS they sang, he began to feel pain. He couldn?t understand it, but it hurt all over. The more they sang, the more wrenching the pain became, until, at last, he crumpled to the ground. She appeared next to him. ?Tim, you must go home. I will find you when the morning comes. It is dangerous out here at night,? she whispered. With that, his eyes closed and he saw only darkness.
The Essay on Time Waltz Oriana Walked
Oriana walked down the hallway, her mind back in a time about a millennium ago. Her people had learned much about the past from historic documents and paleontologists? findings, and now, through technology, she was going to witness it live. Her people had built a time slider. Now she could go back in time and learn the truth about the North American Indians. She mentally went through her ...
When he awoke, it was late morning. All of his family was awake and involved in their normal, loud, morning activities, and yet he had slept through it. He got up and walked to the kitchen area and sat down mumbling, ?Good mornin?,? to everyone there. They each responded but he wasn?t really listening. His mother had set a full breakfast out in front of him. He nibbled on some toast and drank his orange juice. Then, he got up and went and sat on the couch. His family looked on with concern, but nobody said anything. Suddenly, there was a nock at the door.
Everybody was surprised as Tim sprang from his seat and bounded to the door. ?Good mornin? Tim,? came Fiona?s voice. Tim perked up. ?Hey Fiona!? he said with a big smile. ?Who is it honey?? his mom?s voice came from the background. ?Just a friend of mine,? Tim replied. ?Well, invite her in,? said his mom. With those words, the afternoon began. They spent a good part of the afternoon with Tim?s family. Fiona was surprised to learn that Tim was in a band in his hometown. ?I have never heard of Broken Silences before,? Fiona said. Sean chimed into the conversation, ?Really? We are only, like, the biggest band in the world!? ?Sean!? his mother barked. ?Sorry,? Sean mumbled. The afternoon continued with a lot of idle chit-chat and several approving glances from Cole, Sean, and his dad. Then Fiona and Tim told Tim?s family that they were going out for a walk. They strolled through the late afternoon air, smiling and holding hands. They sat down in the grass and gazed at each other. ?Sing me one of your songs, Tim,? she asked. He grinned and began softly singing, ?I love you more than anything, than anything, I do, and I?d give you more than anything, just to be with you.
The Term Paper on Old Man on the Run
The Old Man On The Run | English assignment | | | | | | | Cover page | Page 1 | Contents | Page 2 | Author biography | Page 3 | Cast of characters | Page 4 | locations | Page 5 | Short story | Page 6,7,8 | Film treatment | Page 9,10 | Report | Page 11 | Reem Haddad is a 15 year old girl who attends Alamanah College she is a tenth grader. She is born on 13th January 13 1997. Her family consists of ...
These feelings I hold inside are emotions I can not hide. These feelings will not subside. I?d do anything…? He sang through the whole song as she listened and hummed along. ?That?s a wonderful song,? she sighed. By this time, the sun was setting ?We had better get going,? she said, looking a little concerned. ?Why?? he smiled. ?It looks like it?s going to be a nice night.? She sighed, ?I want to leave.? She looked very nervous now. ?Why?? Tim asked again. ?We were having a good time.? The sun was setting fast. ?Tim, please, let?s go,? she said hurriedly. He shrugged and they walked back to the cottage. There she left him standing on the step as she hurried away over a hill. Again, he stood there, looking shocked. The next day came and Tim saw nothing of Fiona. He was very depressed. He thought about her constantly, ate very little and moped around all day. His parents were concerned, as were his siblings, but he wasn?t really talking to them. Nobody knew what had happened, but all thought it had to do with Fiona. The day came and went. Night fell. It was 3:00 a.m. again when he heard the singing and ran out into the night. He ran through the fields and searched the hills and finally came upon her. Kneeling down in the grass, she was picking flowers and conversing with an unseen figure. Tim slowly crept closer and concealed himself himself behind a tree. Out of curiosity, he watched for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on.
Fiona pulled a daisy from the ground and, when she did, there was a sudden burst of light coming from a single petal. A miniscule figure emerged, retaining the glow of the light. Fiona laughed and said, ?Hello, Aquitaine. How are you doing this fine evening?? Tim watched the scene in quiet amazement. He was waiting for the right time to exit the shadows and approach Fiona. Now, though, the bright figure fluttered about Fiona?s head for a moment, then spoke in a quiet, but strong, voice. ?Being a faerie, its the same as usual. I?m here to warn you. I?m not sure what these men want, but they?re after you.? Fiona gasped and assumed that her friend was speaking of a few men who were out to get her. Fiona had a secret that only this faerie knew; a secret that could kill. Fiona was a siren, what was thought, by most, to be a mythical creature which sang out a beautiful tune to men at sea in order to attract them and kill them. However, Fiona knew what she was, and it didn?t match the stereotype. She sang a beautiful tune though it was only harmful at night and it was never with purpose to harm. She wanted to make music that healed, not music that caused pain and eventual death with prolonged listening.
The Term Paper on Time to Water the Tree of Library
Time to Water the Tree of Liberty by Dr. William Pierce Today we'll talk about a subject we've spoken about often in the past, and that is freedom, especially its prospects for the future. Unfortunately those prospects are quite dim at the moment. I'm afraid that most people wouldn't agree with me on that, and I think that's because most people equate freedom with comfort, with having plenty of ...
As she was explaining this to her faerie, Fiona heard a loud gasp. Tim stepped out from the shadows to face her with a look of wide-eyed fright. He spoke vapidly, ?Is that what you?re trying to do to me?? Fiona stood up quickly, at a loss for words. ?No, Timothy. I…? She turned quickly to the far side of the filed to see the first of a long trail of men on horseback, galloping toward her. She grasped Tim?s hand in her own. ?Come with me. I?ll explain everything as soon as we?re out of harm?s way. Please. I beg of you.? The look of fear increased in his eyes, but he squeezed her hand and nodded, allowing her to lead him anywhere she may roam. She tugged on his hand a bit and began to run as fast as she could through the field. She was headed everywhere at once and wasn?t quite sure what to do with herself or Tim. A bright trail of light suddenly shot out from behind her pair and seemed to head off in a definite direction. Fiona eyed Aquitaine for a moment, then, in a moment of decisiveness, followed behind her. Running faster than normal conditions allowed, Fiona and Tim raced for an unmarked finish line with an unknown prize. After several run-ins with branches, roots, and other scattered bits of annoyance in the filed, the duo caught up with Aquitaine and were tempted to stop under a thick tree to catch their breath, but they heard the charging horses racing through the field behind them.
Quickly, Fiona, Tim, and Aquitaine fled from the beaten trail and began to trek through the dark forest. The ground in the forest was thick with decaying remnants of leaves, flowers, branches, and dead animals. Mushrooms and toadstools flourished near the bases of the tallest trees and ivy grew up the sides of the smaller trees while the larger trees where awash with moss. No member of the fleeing trio was familiar with the current surroundings, so they trudged on carefully, avoiding stepping where they knew they would make noise. Without a word, they increased their speed as they heard the horses? clomps turn to careful steps as they entered the forest.
The Term Paper on The Time Machine Traveller Man Psychologist
Chapter I. The Time Machine The Time Traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us. His grey eyes shone and twinkled, and his usually pale face was flushed and animated. The fire burned brightly, and the soft radiance of the incandescent lights in the lilies of silver caught the bubbles that flashed and passed in our glasses. Our chairs, being his ...
After asking permission with her eyes, Aquitaine flew up above the trees and caught a glimpse of a small cave on the other side of the small creek which ran through the center of the forest. Aquitaine flew back down, whispered the news to Fiona and Tim and, without a moment of hesitation, they began to run for the cave?s opening. However, the three were not aware that the men had taken to traveling by foot shortly after one of their horses had become frightened by the density of the forest. Not long after Tim, Fiona, and Aquitaine abandoned their short rest in order to seek a safe haven, the men who were after Fiona managed to catch up with her as well as her friends. As Aquitaine flew over a tree branch, the men caught sight of her and raced toward the trailing flash. Fiona and Tim were so busy running for their lives that they didn?t hear the men approaching until it was too late. Within seconds, on of the men had a hand on Aquitaine and had thrown her against the ground where she cried out loudly and promptly let out her final bit of breath. Fiona wanted to stop to give final words to her friend, but knew that her life might end as a result. Because of this, she plunged forth with Tim at her heels, crossed the small creek quickly and quietly and made it to the cave just before Aquitaine?s murderers rounded a sharp corner in the forest.
The pair headed deeper into the cave and lay down on the damp ground to wait out the troops. When Tim looked over at Fiona in the single bit of light that came in through a crack in the cave?s walls, she was crying. ?Fiona,? he spoke softly, the word leaving his lips like something sacred. She looked up and saw him. Her body looked almost luminescent in the moonlight. Her dress spilled about her like a mantle of light. He hair hung loose around her shoulders. In this light she was almost, ghostly. ?Fiona, why did you run from me last night?? he asked. She whispered, barely audible, ?Go away, please.? ?No,? he responded. ?I will not go away. Fiona, I think I love you, please tell me what?s going on.? She looked into his eyes and answered with a single not. A ?C.? Tim had forgotten Fiona?s confession earlier in the evening and now his body was wrenched with unbearable pain, and he fell to the ground. ?That is what?s the matter,? she whispered again, ?My voice is death. Now do you see?? He got up slowly as the pain went away, remembering her confession in the open field. ?I don?t care, Fiona. I still love you,? he replied. She was truly amazed to hear this from him.
The Term Paper on Coping With Miscarriage Men Pain Feel
Coping with Miscarriage: The Male Perspective Fathers who have experienced stillbirth, infant death, or miscarriage walk a uniquely sorrowful and challenging path K[facing] the intense challenge of parenting a child who cannot be physically held, tickled or read to. (Drury, 1) One of the hardest things a couple may face in their lifetimes is the tragedy of miscarriage, also known as spontaneous ...
She shook her head, ?No Tim, this can never be, at night my voice brings pain and death to all men. You will die if you stay too close to me,? she whispered. He could feel his body cringe at the sound of her voice. Tim could think of nothing else to do, so he sang. ?When you have no light to guide you, and no one to walk beside you, I will come to you, Oh, I will come to you.? She had to struggle not to sing with him. When he finished he said, ?If I can not be with you in this life, I swear that when my time comes, I will come to you. I will remain with you for all time. I love you Fiona, and I always will.? He was crying, as was she. She whispered softly, ?I love you Tim.? They embraced. She was like air, like kissing air. Then Tim turned and slowly walked away. They would not see each other for a long time after that. As he left, once she was sure he was gone, she screamed. A terrible wail of true pain filled the air. It was all she could do. He was gone, but she would remember him. Tim went back home after that, and went back to the grindstone. He thought of her a lot. She thought of him constantly, and every night she wailed out the pain of losing him. Far away from her, Tim sang softly to himself: the tune which he had first heard her singing. They repeated this medley for many nights…until their paths crossed again. (I got a 96 on this short story, and my teacher was EXTREMELY strict at grading stuff.)
