Sample One
...I touched that hard, sullen wooden box, felt the vibrations from the woman inside and the torrent of water let loose from my eyes, the daggers of odium stung at my already raw, bleeding heart. A part of my soul slept in that box, that wretched container!
This is a "My Grandmother's Funeral" essay, and it gets better!
I have dreams about her sometimes, late at night. I wake in a cold sweat to see her in various stages of decay walking towards me and begging to be rescued. I sometimes wonder why it is that I still see her, haunting my dreams, why it is that I am still afraid to walk into her house. I hear her voice, resounding, forever trapped within the walls of that dank, empty residence...
This was actually a really strong paper--at least it was interesting, which is exceedingly rare.
Sample Two
I was very excited because I was running the 800-meter dash along with Deneka and Udara. Deneka was a senior at Kennedy who had been running the 800-meter dash since middle school. Unlike Deneka, Udara was just like me, except she was a freshman. Therefore I figured Deneka would help our school's rank if Udara and I messed up, since we were first-time runners. I was also running the 4 by 4 relay.
I know what the 800 meter "dash" is, but the "4 by 4" relay has to be the most ridiculous race ever. By the time you take a step you're in the baton exchange zone!
Sample Three
From another surprisingly good paper, again about Grandma:
In 1991 my grandmother whom we all call Mommon came to visit my family in Germany with her sister. The night before they were coming back to Maryland Mommon and her sister got into a huge argument about where their plane tickets were and who had them last. My grandmother's sister kept telling Mommon that she had the tickets and that she had given them to her when they first arrived. Finally the argument was over and hours later Mommon found the tickets in her sock. They were there all along because her sister had given them to her and she put them away for safe keeping.
Sample Four
And another:
My mother's strenghts were her supreme intelligence and unwavering sense of life's priorities. Her only fear in life was that of a painful, undignified death. Her fate would be to confront this singular fear without the benefit of these strengths.
I'm three quarters done this pile and they've been much better than many batches of first essays at TU.
2 comments:
The dead lady is vibrating?
???
- Em
I know! It's like Poe's Premature Burial.
"Daddy, Grandma's vibrating again!"
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