Cursive

case a name, while all other times, it’s a word. Perhaps that is why I began to write my name in varied forms of the letter, as I slowly progressed into my current age. In the beginning it was usually dotted with a heart. Later, it turned into a cursive capital letter, and finally now it remains just as a single straight line: a basic mark on a piece of paper which holds no creativity, but infinite self-respect and…

Seventeen years determine the age gap between my oldest sibling and me. Being the youngest of four and the sibling closest in age to me is still five years older, I felt like I was on my own. By the time I was finally aware of my surroundings and in need of guidance and advice from my wise older siblings, they had already started their lives and left me to become my own person and make my own mistakes. My parents strived to achieve the American dream; they worked long, irregular hours resulting…

Fifth grade is a cardinal year; an important milestone in everyone’s life, especially mine. With the first day approaching, and the warm summer of 2009 coming to a close, many of my peers were bursting from the seams with excitement as well as harmless cockiness; we had earned our positions as the top dogs at Pineville Elementary! With my fresh, glossy folders and binders and notebooks, and an outfit I picked out all by myself ready to go, I assured my mom she didn't have to walk me to my class…

Words are one of the remarkable tools we use to communicate with one another. Words have a purpose and tell our stories. Society 's focus on words proves that language is essential to becoming a member of the community and it 's worth is evident in our relationship to words. Take, for example, parents ' preoccupation with a child 's first words. When a child first learns to speak, it is indeed often a memory that is proudly shared among friends and family and remembered for a lifetime. And while…

Mystery in The Clock Tower Upon a black and cold midnight in the town of Astoria, a young 13 year old girl is running home. The pitter-patter of her footsteps echoes across the still, quiet land. It was almost as if a blanket covered the world, the only light was from the bright and big full moon. The darkness wraps around her as she hurries, but then, right as she runs past the light beige clock tower, it chimes thrice. “Midnight.” she thought. She gazes up at the towering, majestic…

The Biography Of My Life. When I was a kid I used to live in chicago. I went to the elementary school called Henry Elementary School. It was a good school. My favorite teacher was Ms.Neecie because, she taught me how to write in cursive and the history of Harriet Tubman. She was a really cool and fun teacher. She made learning history really fun. She would have my classmates and I do a play on Harriet Tubman. When I was a teenager my parents decided to move to Round Lake. We moved to a…

June” by Shelby Lynne. The video then goes to a boy, Evan, writing “I AM BORED” in very distinct handwriting on a table in the library. When he returns to the library the next day there is someone that responded to him on the table in a very pretty cursive handwriting saying, “Hi bored, nice to meet you.” (Sandy Hook Promise, 2016). They begin to have a conversation back and forth and the guy becomes curious of who the girl is he is writing to. Day after day looking for the girl that was…

Piece #1 - Reflection June 3rd had been a horrible, miserable day. The humidity was thick and sweat slowly trickled down my legs in beads. I remember feeling anxious in the pit of my gut; a feeling that I was not accustomed to. I remember I was watching the pitter-patter of the rain dancing along the bus windows when I first saw her. I had watched the gloomy atmosphere immediately change as she stepped onto the bus. Her smile had glowed and her presence had illuminated the bus. Her rosy cheeks…

Soon, I packed my suitcase days prior to my departure. But, as I rifled through my clatter, I came upon a letter dated on 1958, the year I had departed for England. I could make out my father’s penmanship and his scrawny cursive. On the front it read, “To My Son, Mohan Bansal.” Quickly opening the letter, I began to read. “Dear Son, I write this on the day you ran away. I am not surprised at your bold decision to explore a different country even when I told you no. I am…

to read them all with the help of Chibale, but the fact that they are written in columns as well as rows is not helping any, even if they are read from right to left. My favorite writing to read when I’m not studying hieroglyphics is hieratic, a cursive script scribes use pretty often in their daily work. I’ve been told it’s quicker and easier to use then hieroglyphics and it's read right to left in a horizontal…