Single-elimination tournament

I can’t stand the taste of this nicotine on my tongue, it’s bitter and degrading. But it’s the only hint of heat on this raw and bleak night. It’s cold as hell, which doesn’t make sense because hell could never be cold. It’s always cold here. Fucking Michigan. God’s snow globe. We are all fucking snowmen in this winter-wonderland. Well, most of us, not me though. No, I refuse to follow the ways of these morons around me, who just go on with life as if nothing were wrong. Not giving a shit about…

My Dad My Dad has always been my inspiration ever since I was little. Some people can say the same thing, but some can say their father wasn’t like my dad. Even my dad couldn’t say that his father was his inspiration. His dad left him just when he was an eight year old boy, and would come back when he turned sixteen. Only to leave yet again and not speak to my dad until he was forty. Sitting outside on the steps as my dad and I watch our dogs run around after each other. The glow from the sun…

take our lists and shred them as she told us about what to expect in college. She told us that what we have is valuable, a fresh start where no one knows who we are. There are over 20,000 people on campus that don’t know our names, they don’t know a single thing about us. 20,000 potential connections. We should use that to our advantage and wipe away what we knew about who we are from high school because we now have the potential to be anyone we want to be here at CMU. This lesson still amazes…

“I will not love it! And isn’t it better to look like a fool with me than with Perceval? I mean, whoever your future husband may be.” Carina gave a wry grin and held out the other cucumber. “Just go ahead and grasp it and move your hand up and down with a firm grip.” Summoning her courage, Joan reached out and wrapped her hand around the cucumber, doing her best to imitate the actions Carina had demonstrated earlier. “You are a natural!” praised Carina, and Joan groaned at the statement. “Now…

For instance, in the poem “The Gypsy”, based on my interpretation after an amount of acceptable readings through the writing, Harrison, (author and narrator), talks about someone else’s daughter. The narrator is communicating the readers how “she arrives in a magic moment” to the unknown person’s life. This individual without identity that Harrison is referring to in the poem, was not expecting a daughter for sure, so he “turns away”. I guess either he did not care, or was not prepared for such…

THE END I am the only one left. Should I cross the hard gray smooth never ending rock, which took the life of my brother and sister? There has to be a way to get to the food source that father talked about. Brother almost made it before the thing with the four rolling objects took him. With Sister it was quick. She just bounced and that was that. The end. It all started a month ago, when Father was getting ready to take us to the place that I am now. Mother and Father, (I miss…

CHAPTER ONE Rickety Knees “Two decrepit trolls sipping ice tea on the seashore in their underwear stood and peered at me through the palm fronds,” Gramps told me. I gasped—shocked. Though I shouldn’t have been. I knew growing up, that Grandpa Greene was the most fascinating man breathing. He had crossed oceans with pirates and deserts on dragons, spoke at least four different languages including elfish, tinkered with magic a bit and practiced sword fighting with a gnome. “So what you do?”…

Do You Think You Have Character? When faced with a conflict do you think you have the character to overcome it, and deal with it? When society around you has a direct set of rules that everyone follows, do you think you would also be able to follow those rules? Character can be defined in two ways, the mental and moral qualities distinctive to an individual, or a person in a novel, play or movie. The difference of the two is, one is how you truly are and the other is just a mask of…

Frozen toes and red ears. Pink windburned cheeks and chapped lips. Can you feel it? The rush of cold winter air over your face. Can you picture it? A winter wonderland with slopes, lifts, and free people. Spotlights shining down on you and illuminating the glistening snow. Sundown, a place people go for thrills and fun during the winter. Not everyone departs with a good memory in mind. If you’re not careful you might leave with a traumatic experience and broken bones. Sundown is a place not too…

After reading “The Other Wes Moore” by Wes Moore I can understand what he means when he says “The chilling truth is that his story could have been mine, the tragedy is that my story could have been his”. This is about two men who each had their own struggle growing up but one was able to succeed in life while the other is facing a life sentence behind bars. Wes Moore could have had a similar life as the other Wes Moore if his mother would have just given up on him. Credit should not be given…