Facial hair

All I heard was the thumping of the millions of people walking down the street of New York City. I was heading to the market to get me some milk, potatoes and butter. I was kinda spaced out by thinking about my family that couldn't come to this magnificent country. I was awoken from my haze by a man yelling at me “ come here” I walked over and said, “ yes”, he said” I work for a newspaper company and I noticed that you don't look like the normal new yorker” I said “ I'm from Germany, I came…

Running down a dark, damp alleyway trash all around me. My long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, which was unusual for me, but I had to keep it out of my deep green eyes. At the time I wasn’t sure what I was chasing, all I knew was, it had to be stopped. I had run five blocks exhausted, I stopped to take a breather. Then I heard it a bang! A loud sound behind me. I thought if the shot had come from behind me, who was the target? I looked down and saw a gaping hole through my stomach. I…

(page 20). The characters live in an the mid-1900s where only girls with blonde-hair, blue-eyes, and white skin are considered beautiful. Throughout The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison explains that beauty is on the inside. In the novel, the influence of popular media is unveiled through the effect of advertisements on the standards of beauty that appear in the text, which are based on one’s skin color, eye color and hair color. The effect of advertisement on girls in the story is negative, because of…

When an individual thinks of the word beautiful they most likely think of a blonde hair blued eyed barbie, a Kardashian, or that perfect size two model on the cover of Vogue magazine. Sadly, todays society is filled with a million misconceptions of what an individual should look like. Girls across the globe strive for their hair to fall a certain way, their waist to be a certain circumference, their clothes to be a certain style, and their skin to have that perfect clarity and glow. All of these…

its eccentricity. He comments that they’re “going to the theatre—we’re not going to be in it” (80). By commenting on the theatrical nature of her traditional clothing, George is downplaying the importance of culture to her. Beneatha has also cut her hair and it is its natural texture. When he first sees it, George immediately tells her how eccentric she looks. When Beneatha replies that she’s simply being natural, he counters with “That’s what being eccentric means—being natural” (80). George is…

what?” She nudged the crossed legs again. “A boy. Now leave.” The voice ordered again. “Wash your hair before you boss others around. You look like a scraggly orphan with a complex.” With that Lucille walked back to her chair to stare at the dead tree again. Noon the next day, the boy was back, and sat in the same chair, with the same crossed legs. Lucille almost walked past him, until she saw his hair. Washed, conditioned, and trimmed. The bruises were still as apparent as yesterday, only now…

It was a very cold but normal December day, everyone in town was doing what they usually do, take kids to school, go to work, get coffee and visit one another. Henry Dunkin was an ordinary 13 year old boy who was tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He was very liked by the citizens in the town so you wouldn’t expect anyone to harm him, right? Two weeks ago on a Tuesday, this was a day like any other, the sun was shining and there was a chilly breeze just off the east coast. In the bakery up…

Avery pulled her sport-utility vehicle up the long, winding, tree-lined drive towards the house owned by her landlords, Frank and Gladys Prewitt. The brick and masonry, one-story ranch was built about ten years ago. The Prewitts owned a ranch with a hundred acres, and were well known in these parts for raising thoroughbred horses, as well as cattle and other farm animals. Avery’s home is located at the front of their property in the corner nearest town, and she has rented from them for the past…

Shyanne Padgett As Amber intered room she felt a coldness enter into her slender body causing shivers to run up her spine like the feeling of thousands of baby spiders running across your flesh. The room was dark and creepily colder than all the other rooms in the house. Immediately, a thought entered into her mind, “His name is Skotádi.” She looked around the chilling dark room and could feel the evilness seeping into her. She then saw what seemed to be a dark figure in the coroner. He…

back at his desk and down on his family picture, at least when he had an actual family, he looked at himself with his baby brown eyes and his perfect dark brown hair, thinking why couldn’t I look better. Then his mother, Catherine Henery, came to the left of him holding him in her long arms. Her beautiful purple dress, her smooth black hair if only she is not in…