Friday, January 31, 2020

Different Kinds of Joy Essay Example for Free

Different Kinds of Joy Essay The pursuit of happiness is a reoccurring theme in numerous novels. In the novel, Their Eye’s Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston, what brings happiness differs to each character. To the main character Janie, happiness is found in love, but to her grandmother Nanny, happiness is found in security. At first, Janie does what Nanny wills her to. At the age of 16, Janie marries into security. She is safe, but unhappy. Still yearning for love, Janie runs away with Mr. Starks. With Starks, Janie is once again safe, but unhappy. Starks then passes away, and Janie finds her true love, Tea Cake. Through Tea Cake Janie re-realizes her dream of love and abandons Nanny’s dream of security, she descends into the muck with Tea Cake, learning to love life too. To find happiness, Janie has to step down from her pedestal and into the muck. Hurston efficiently uses this reverse metaphor to convey that happiness comes from mutual love, and that this can be found anywhere, even from the muck of society. Nanny’s ideals in life and Janie’s are different. To â€Å"take a stand on high ground† (p16) is the ideal for Nanny. Nanny wants Janie to marry into security. With security, Janie could be safe from the abuse that her grandmother and mother had experienced. At first, this is what Janie does even though it is not what she wants. She wants to be in love, â€Å"to be a pear tree—any tree in bloom! With kissing bees and singing of the beginning of the world! † (p11). When Janie finds this, she realizes what Nanny’s dream had done to her. She realizes that her dreams had been â€Å"pinched it in to [into] such a little bit of a thing that she could tie her grandmother’s neck tight enough to choke her† (p89). With this realization, Janie’s dream rekindles. She realizes that mutual love, him loving her, and her â€Å"wants (wanting) to want him†, is all she needs to find love in life and herself. Janie’s search for love ends with Tea Cake. Janie and Tea Cake are at opposite ends of the social spectrum when they meet. Janie is known as Mrs. Mayor Starks, while Tea Cake is known as a â€Å"player. † Even though Tea Cake can offer her no security, he can offer her love and acceptance. When first meeting, Tea Cake asks Janie to play checkers. Janie â€Å"found (finds) herself glowing inside. Somebody wanted (wants) her to play. Somebody thought (finds) it natural for her to play† (p96). Tea Cake sees Janie as woman, not a trophy wife. And because of this, Janie sees Tea Cake as a lover, not a lowlife. Once Janie is able to love Tea Cake, she learns to love the muck as well. Janie thinks, â€Å"if people think de same they can make it all right. So in the beginnin’ new thoughts had tuh be thought, and new words said† (p115). Janie has to experience new things with Tea Cake, like the muck, in order to love and understand him even more. Once she accepts the muck, she becomes a part of it. Sometimes Janie would think of the old days in the big white house and the store and laugh to herself† (p134). This is because like Tea Cake, the muck accepts her. â€Å"Only here, she could listen and laugh and even talk sometimes herself if she wanted to† (p134). Being in the muck is like being in love, except with place, and eventually with life. Even though the muck has no riches and is the lowest aspect in society, it doesn’t matter to Janie. In the muck, Janie is poor but she is accepted. Janie is loved, and Janie is happy. Janie has a dream of love and happiness, but her grandmother also has a dream of security. At first Nanny’s dreams overpowered her own, leading Janie into a secure but loveless marriage. Janie then becomes Mrs. Mayor Starks, which Nanny would have loved, but joy still eludes her. To find this joy, Janie has to find love. Then Tea Cake appears in her life, becoming her one and only. He gives her what she wants, a mutual love. Janie then moves to the muck with Tea Cake and learns to work. She is no longer Mrs. Mayor Starks, she is Janie. In the muck, she learns that love is trust and acceptance. She learns to find love in everything, even herself. Janie is now truly happy. Even in the lowest part of society.

Thursday, January 23, 2020

Ernest Hemingways Life and Image :: History

Ernest Hemingway's Life and Image Ernest Hemingway was born on a July morning in 1899. Born at home in Oak Park, he was raised a conservative with strong values. While his father taught him to hunt and fish, his mother taught him music, her former profession. Though his mother’s music lessons helped him throughout his life, he didn’t particularly enjoy the lessons and spent as much time in the woods as he could manage. Nature became Hemingway’s world, the place where he could go and pull from it the essence of his writing. No matter what happened in his life he could always find refuge in a quiet meadow or a lulling forest. Inspired by nature, Hemingway used it to form a force that became both a backing and almost a character in his books, that would speak to a reader and tell them that a story wasn’t over, simply because it never truly ends. People look back at Hemingway’s life as if it was one of his novels. He is not seen as a writer but as a personage of writing. At a young age of 18, in 1917, Hemingway enlisted as an ambulance driver in World War I, after quitting his job at the Kansas City Star. Hemingway didn’t make it three weeks into his service. While in Schio, Italy, he was injured by an exploding mortar, perforating his legs with shrapnel. In spite of this, it is said that he carried a wounded Italian to a first aid station; this earned him an Italian Silver Medal. For the next year, Hemingway used his insurance from the war to avoid work. He would spend his time at the library or speaking about the war. Eventually he met Harriett Connable while speaking, who saw Hemingway’s confidence and control. Connable asked him to tutor her son. He accepted, as her husband introduced Hemingway to the editor of the Toronto Star Weekly, who he wrote for even when he moved to Paris. While in Paris he covered the Geneva Conference, and the Greco-Turkish War. Hemingway and his first wife Hadley moved back to Toronto though, when she became pregnant. In 1925, two years after his son John was born, Hemingway wrote In Our Time, and a year later The Sun Also Rises. These two novels were great successes, and led to his Farewell to Arms, which is considered by many a paramount to all World War I novels.

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

Me Talk Pretty One Day By David Sedaris From

Me Talk Pretty One Day – By David Sedaris From his book Me Talk Pretty One Day At the age of forty-one, I am returning to school and have to think of myself as what my French textbook calls â€Å"a true debutant. † After paying my tuition, I was issued a student ID, which allows me a discounted entry fee at movie theaters, puppet shows, and Festyland, a far-flung amusement park that advertises with billboards picturing a cartoon stegosaurus sitting in a canoe and eating what appears to be a ham sandwich.I’ve moved to Paris with hopes of learning the language. My school is an easy ten-minute walk from my apartment, and on the first day of class I arrived early, watching as the returning students greeted one another in the school lobby. Vacations were recounted, and questions were raised concerning mutual friends with names like Kang and Vlatnya. Regardless of their nationalities, everyone spoke what sounded to me like excellent French. Some accents were better tha n others, but the students exhibited an ease and confidence that I found intimidating.As an added discomfort, they were all young, attractive, and well-dressed, causing me to feel not unlike Pa Kettle trapped backstage after a fashion show. The first day of class was nerve-racking because I knew I’d be expected to perform. That’s the way they do it here – it’s everybody into the language pool, sink or swim. The teacher marched in, deeply tanned from a recent vacation, and proceeded to rattle off a series of administrative announcements. I’ve spent quite a few summers in Normandy, and I took a monthlong French class before leaving New York.I’m not completely in the dark, yet I understood only half of what this woman was saying. â€Å"If you have not meimslsxp or lgpdmurct by this time, then you should not be in this room. Has everyone apzkiubjxow? Everyone? Good, we shall begin. † She spread out her lesson plan and sighed, saying, â₠¬Å"All right, then, who knows the alphabet? † It was startling because (a) I hadn’t been asked that question in a while and (b) I realized, while laughing, that I myself did not know the alphabet. They’re the same letters, but in France they’re pronounced differently.I know the shape of the alphabet but had no idea what it actually sounded like. â€Å"Ahh. † The teacher went to the board and sketched the letter a. â€Å"Do we have anyone in the room whose first name commences with an ahh? †12 Two Polish Annas raised their hands, and the teachers instructed them to present themselves by stating their names, nationalities, occupations, and a brief list of things they liked and disliked in this world. The first Anna hailed from an industrial town outside of Warsaw and had front teeth the size of tombstones. She worked as a seamstress, enjoyed quiet times with friends, and hated the mosquito.Oh, really,† the teacher said. â€Å"How very in teresting. I thought that everyone loved the mosquito, but here, in front of all the world, you claim to detest him. How is it that we’ve been blessed with someone as unique and original as you? Tell us, please. † The seamstress did not understand what was being said but knew that this was an occasion for shame. Her rabbity mouth huffed for breath, and she stared down at her lap as though the appropriate comeback were stitched somewhere alongside the zipper of her slacks. The second Anna learned from the first and claimed to love sunshine and detest lies.It sounded like a translation of one of those Playmate of the Month data sheets, the answers always written in the same loopy handwriting: â€Å"Turn-ons: Mom’s famous fivealarm chili! Turn offs: insecurity and guys who come on too strong!!!! † The two Polish Annas surely had clear notions of what they loved and hated, but like the rest of us, they were limited in terms of vocabulary, and this made them ap pear less than sophisticated. The teacher forged on, and we learned that Carlos, the Argentine bandonion player, loved wine, music, and, in his words, â€Å"making sex with the womans of the world. Next came a beautiful young Yugoslav who identified herself as an optimist, saying that she loved everything that life had to offer. The teacher licked her lips, revealing a hint of the saucebox we would later come to know. She crouched low for her attack, placed her hands on the young woman’s desk, and leaned close, saying, â€Å"Oh yeah? And do you love your little war? † While the optimist struggled to defend herself, I scrambled to think of an answer to what had obviously become a trick question. How often is one asked what he loves in this world? More to the point, how often is one asked and then publicly ridiculed for his answer?I recalled my mother, flushed with wine, pounding the table top one night, saying, â€Å"Love? I love a good steak cooked rare. I love my ca t, and I love †¦Ã¢â‚¬  My sisters and I leaned forward, waiting to hear out names. â€Å"Tums,† our mother said. â€Å"I love Tums. †13 The teacher killed some time accusing the Yugoslavian girl of masterminding a program of genocide, and I jotted frantic notes in the margins of my pad. While I can honestly say that I love leafing through medical textbooks devoted to severe dermatological conditions, the hobby is beyond the reach of my French vocabulary, and acting it out would only have invited controversy.When called upon, I delivered an effortless list of things that I detest: blood sausage, intestinal pates, brain pudding. I’d learned these words the hard way. Having given it some thought, I then declared my love for IBM typewriters, the French word for bruise, and my electric floor waxer. It was a short list, but still I managed to mispronounce IBM and assign the wrong gender to both the floor waxer and the typewriter. The teacher’s reaction le d me to believe that these mistakes were capital crimes in the country of France. â€Å"Were you always this palicmkrexis? she asked. â€Å"Even a fiuscrzsa ticiwelmun knows that a typewriter is feminine. † I absorbed as much of her abuse as I could understand, thinking – but not saying – that I find it ridiculous to assign a gender to an inanimate object which is incapable of disrobing and making an occasional fool of itself. Why refer to Lady Crack Pipe or Good Sir Dishrag when these things could never live up to all that their sex implied? The teacher proceeded to belittle everyone from German Eva, who hated laziness, to Japanese Yukari, who loved paintbrushes and soap.Italian, Thai, Dutch, Korean, and Chinese – we all left class foolishly believing that the worst over. She’d shaken us up a little, but surely that was just an act designed to weed out the deadweight. We didn’t know it then, but the coming months would teach us what it was like to spend time in the presence of a wild animal, something completely unpredictable. Her temperament was not based on a series of good and bad days but, rather, good and bad moments. We soon learned to dodge chalk and protect our heads and stomachs whenever she approached us with a question.She hadn’t yet punched anyone, but it seemed wise to protect ourselves against the inevitable. Though we were forbidden to speak anything but French, the teacher would occasionally use us to practice any of her five fluent languages. â€Å"I hate you,† she said to me one afternoon. Her English was flawless. â€Å"I really, really hate you. † Call me sensitive, but I couldn’t help but take it personally. 14 After being singled out as a lazy kfdtinvfm, I took to spending four hours a night on my homework, putting in even more time whenever we were assigned an essay.I suppose I could have gotten by with less, but I was determined to create some sort of identity for m yself: David, the hardworker, David the cut-up. We’d have one of those â€Å"complete this sentence† exercises, and I’d fool with the thing for hours, invariably settling on something like, â€Å"A quick run around the lake? I’d love to! Just give me a moment while I strap on my wooden leg. † The teacher, through word and action, conveyed the message that if this was my idea of an identity, she wanted nothing to do with it. My fear and discomfort crept beyond the borders of the classroom and accompanied me out onto the wide boulevards.Stopping for a coffee, asking directions, depositing money in my bank account: these things were out of the question, as they involved having to speak. Before beginning school, there’d been no shutting me up, but now I was convinced that everything I said was wrong. When the phone rang, I ignored it. If someone asked me a question, I pretended to be deaf. I knew my fear was getting the best of me when I started wondering why they don’t sell cuts of meat in vending machines. My only comfort was the knowledge that I was not alone.Huddled in the hallways and making the most of our pathetic French, my fellow students and I engaged in the sort of conversation commonly overhead in refugee camps. â€Å"Sometimes me cry alone at night. † â€Å"That be common for I, also, but be more strong, you. Much work and someday you talk pretty. People start love you soon. Maybe tomorrow, okay. † Unlike the French class I had taken in New York, here there was no sense of competition. When the teacher poked a shy Korean in the eyelid with a freshly sharpened pencil, we took no comfort in the fact that, unlike Hyeyoon Cho, we all know the irregular past tense of the verb to defeat.In all fairness, the teacher hadn’t meant to stab the girl, but neither did she spend much time apologizing, saying only, â€Å"Well, you should have been vkkdyo more kdeynfulh. † Over time it becam e impossible to believe that any of us would ever improve. Fall arrived and it rained every day, meaning we would now be scolded for the water dripping from our coats and umbrellas. It was mid-October when the teacher singled me15 out, saying, â€Å"Every day spent with you is like having a cesarean section. † And it struck me that, for the first time since arriving in France, I could understand every word that someone was saying.Understanding doesn’t mean that you can suddenly speak the language. Far from it. It’s a small step, nothing more, yet its rewards are intoxicating and deceptive. The teacher continued her diatribe and I settled back, bathing in the subtle beauty of each new curse and insult. â€Å"You exhaust me with your foolishness and reward my efforts with nothing but pain, do you understand me? † The world opened up, and it was with great joy that I responded, â€Å"I know the thing that you speak exact now. Talk me more, you, plus, please , plus. †

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

Passive Voice Usage and Examples for ESL/EFL

The passive voice in English is used to express what is done to someone or something. Here are a few examples: The company was sold for $5 million.That novel was written by Jack Smith in 1912.My house was built in 1988. In each of these sentences, the subject of the sentences does nothing. Rather, something is done to the subject of the sentence. In each case, the focus is on the object of an action. These sentences could also be written in the active voice. The owners sold the company for $5 million.Jack Smith wrote the novel in 1912.A construction company built my house in 1988. Choosing Passive Voice The passive voice is used to place focus on the object rather than the subject. In other words, who does something is less important than what was done to something (focusing on the person or thing affected by an action). Generally speaking, the passive voice is used less frequently  than the active voice. That said, the passive voice is  useful  to switch the focus from  who  is doing something to  what  is being done, which makes it especially useful in business settings when the focus is placed on a product. By using the passive, the product becomes the focus of the sentence. As you can see from these examples, this makes a stronger statement than using the active voice. Computer chips are manufactured in our plant in Hillsboro.Your car will be polished with the finest wax.Our pasta is made using only the finest ingredients.   Here are some other example  sentences that a business might change to the passive form in order to change focus: We have produced over 20 different models in the past two years.  (active voice)Over 20 different models have been produced in the past two years.  (passive voice)My colleagues and I develop software for financial institutions.  Ã¢â‚¬â€¹(active voice)Our software is developed for financial institutions.  (passive voice) Study the passive voice below and then practice your writing skills by changing passive sentences to active sentences, or vice versa. Passive Voice Sentence Structure Passive subject to be past  participle Note that the verb be is conjugated followed by the participle form of the main verb.   The house was built in 1989.My friend is being interviewed today.The project has been completed recently.   The passive voice follows the same usage rules as all the  tenses in English. However, some tenses tend not to be used in the passive voice. Generally speaking, perfect continuous tenses are not used in the passive voice. Using the Agent   The person or people taking an action are referred to as the agent. If the agent (the person or people performing an action) is not important for understanding, the agent can be left out. Here are some examples: The dogs have already been fed. (Its not important who fed the dogs)The children will be taught basic math. (Its clear that a teacher will teach the children)The report will have been finished by the end of next week. (Its not important who completes the report) In some cases, its important to know the agent. In this case, use the preposition by to express the agent following the passive structure. This structure is especially common when speaking about artistic works such as paintings, books, or music. The Flight to Brunnswick was written in 1987 by Tim Wilson.This model was developed by Stan Ishly for our production team.   Passive Used With Transitive Verbs Transitive verbs are verbs that can take an object. Here are some examples: We assembled the car in less than two hours.I wrote the report last week.   Intransitive verbs do not take an object: She arrived early.The accident happened last week.   Only verbs that take an object can be used in the passive voice. In other words, the passive voice is used only with transitive verbs.   We assembled the car in less than two hours.  (active voice)The car was assembled in less than two hours.  (passive voice)I wrote the report last week.  (active voice)The report was written last week.  (passive voice) Passive Voice Structure Examples Here are examples of some of the most common tenses used in the passive voice: Active Voice Passive Voice Verb Tense They make Fords in Cologne. Fords are made in Cologne. Present Simple Susan is cooking dinner. Dinner is being cooked by Susan Present Continuous James Joyce wrote "Dubliners". "Dubliners" was written by James Joyce. Past Simple They were painting the house when I arrived. The house was being painted when I arrived. Past Continuous They have produced over 20 models in the past two years. Over 20 models have been produced in the past two years. Present Perfect They are going to build a new factory in Portland. A new factory is going to be built in Portland. Future Intention with Going to I will finish it tomorrow. It will be finished tomorrow. Future Simple Passive Voice Quiz   Test your knowledge by Conjugating the verbs in parentheses in the passive voice. Pay close attention to the time expressions for  clues on tense usage: Our house ______________ (paint) brown and black last week.The project ______________ (complete) next week by our outstanding marketing department.  The plans for the new contract  __________________ (draw up) right now.  More than 30,000 new computers _________________ (manufacture) every day at our plant in China.  The children ________________ (teach) by Ms Anderson since last year.The piece ________________ (write) by Mozart when he was only six years old.My hair ______________ (cut) by Julie every month.The portrait _______________ (paint) by a famous painter, but Im not sure when.  The cruise  ship ______________ (christen) by Queen Elizabeth in 1987.My paper ______________ (deliver) every morning by a teenager on his bike. Answers: was paintedwill be completed/is going to be completed  are being drawn upare manufacturedhave been taughtwas writtenis cutwill be painted  was christenedis delivered

Sunday, December 29, 2019

Geographic Information About Morocco

Morocco is a country located in Northern Africa along the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. It is officially called the Kingdom of Morocco and is known for its long history, rich culture, and diverse cuisine. Moroccos capital city is Rabat but its largest city is Casablanca. Fast Facts: Morocco Official Name: Kingdom of MoroccoCapital: RabatPopulation: 34,314,130 (2018)Official Language: ArabicCurrency: Moroccan dirhams (MAD)Form of Government: Parliamentary constitutional monarchyClimate: Mediterranean, becoming more extreme in the interiorTotal Area: 172,414 square miles (446,550 square kilometers)Highest Point: Jebel Toubkal 13,665 feet (4,165 meters) Lowest Point: Sebkha Tah -193 feet (-59 meters)   History of Morocco Morocco has a long history that has been shaped over decades by its geographic location on both the  Atlantic Ocean  and the Mediterranean Sea. The Phoenicians were the first people to control the area, but the Romans, Visigoths, Vandals, and Byzantine Greeks also controlled it. In the seventh century BCE, Arabic peoples entered the region and their civilization, as well as  Islam,  thrived there. In the 15th century, the Portuguese controlled the Atlantic coast of Morocco. By the 1800s, though, several other European countries were interested in the region because of its strategic location. France was one of the first of these and in 1904, the United Kingdom officially recognized Morocco as part of Frances sphere of influence. In 1906, the Algeciras Conference established policing duties in Morocco for France and Spain, and then in 1912, Morocco became a protectorate of France with the Treaty of Fes. Following the end of World War II, Moroccans began to push for independence and in 1944, Istiqlal or Independence Party was created to lead the movement for independence. According to the United States Department of State, in 1953 the popular Sultan Mohammed V was exiled by France. He was replaced by Mohammed Ben Aarafa, which caused Moroccans to push for independence even more. In 1955, Mohammed V was able to return to Morocco and on March 2, 1956, the country gained its independence. Following its independence, Morocco grew as it took over control of some Spanish-controlled areas in 1956 and 1958. In 1969, Morocco expanded again when it took control of the Spanish enclave of Ifni in the south. Today, however, Spain still controls Ceuta and Melilla, two coastal enclaves in northern Morocco. Government of Morocco Today, the government of Morocco is considered a constitutional monarchy. It has an executive branch with a chief of state (a position that is filled by the king) and a head of government (the prime minister). Morocco also has a bicameral Parliament which consists of the Chamber of Counselors and the Chamber of Representatives for its legislative branch. The judicial branch of government in Morocco is made up of the Supreme Court. Morocco is divided into 15 regions for local administration and has a legal system based on Islamic law as well as that of the French and Spanish. Economics and Land Use of Morocco Recently, Morocco has undergone several changes in its economic policies that have allowed it to become more stable and grow. It is currently working to develop its service and industrial sectors. The main industries in Morocco today are phosphate rock mining and processing, food processing, the making of leather goods, textiles, construction, energy,  and tourism. Since tourism is a major industry in the country, services are as well. In addition, agriculture also plays a role in Moroccos economy and the main products in this sector include barley, wheat, citrus, grapes, vegetables, olives, livestock,  and wine. Geography and Climate of Morocco Morocco is geographically located in Northern Africa along the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. It is bordered by Algeria and Western Sahara. It also still shares borders with two enclaves that are considered a part of Spain—Ceuta and Melilla. The topography of Morocco varies as its northern coast and interior regions are mountainous, while its coast features fertile plains where much of the countrys agriculture takes place. There are also valleys interspersed between Moroccos mountainous areas. The highest point in Morocco is Jebel Toubkal, which rises to 13,665 feet (4,165 m), while its lowest point is Sebkha Tah at -193 feet (-59 m) below sea level. The climate of Morocco, like its topography, also varies with location. Along the coast, it is Mediterranean with warm, dry summers and mild winters. Farther inland, the climate is more extreme and the closer one gets to the Sahara Desert, the hotter and more extreme it gets. For example, Moroccos capital of Rabat is located on the coast and it has an average January low temperature of 46 degrees (8ËšC) and an average July high temperature of 82 degrees (28ËšC). By contrast, Marrakesh, which is located farther inland, has an average July high temperature of 98 degrees (37ËšC) and a January average low of 43 degrees (6ËšC). Sources Central Intelligence Agency. CIA - The World Factbook - Morocco.Infoplease.com. Morocco: History, Geography, Government, and Culture - Infoplease.com.United States  Department of State. Morocco.

Saturday, December 21, 2019

Oppression Due to Societys Misconception in Maya...

The theme that Maya Angelou incorporates into her autobiography, â€Å"I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings† is one of imprisonment because of the oppression dictated on the subject through the misconceptions of society. The title itself suggests imprisonment as the overlying theme. Assuming that the bird mentioned in the title is Maya, one can analyze that the cage is the oppressive beliefs of society and the reason why the bird sings is that it wants to combat racism by explaining that the cage cannot confine it from its freedom. Maya Angelou is commenting that the subject should always fight against the respective cage that each person is constricted within and not mourn over the suffering and restrictions that one has to go through. Maya Angelou employs character and conflict into her autobiography in order to effectively develop a theme of imprisonment and overcoming the oppression inflicted upon oneself. Through man v. society conflict, Maya is restrained because of her limitations that are brought upon her by the society’s beliefs about racism, sexism, and age. The majority of these limitations are encountered in Maya’s confrontation with the secretary and in her interview. During her interview, Maya is asked, â€Å"How old was I? List my previous jobs, starting from last held†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The interview helps to assure the reader that Maya, constrained by her race, sex, and age, has to lie in order to obtain the position of a streetcar conductor. Maya has to endure the discrimination of being

Friday, December 13, 2019

The Return Shadow Souls Chapter 10 Free Essays

The next morning Elena got up and dressed quietly in the motel room, grateful for the extra space. Damon was gone, but she had expected that. He usually got his breakfast early while they were on the road, preying on waitresses at all-night truck stops or early-morning diners. We will write a custom essay sample on The Return: Shadow Souls Chapter 10 or any similar topic only for you Order Now She was going to discuss that with him someday, she thought as she put the packet of ground coffee in the little two-cup percolator the motel provided. It smelled good. But more urgently, she needed to talk to someone about what had happened last night. Stefan was her first choice, of course, but she’d found that out of body experiences weren’t just to be had for the asking. What she needed to do was call Bonnie and Meredith. She had to talk to them – it was her right – but now, of all times, she couldn’t. Intuitively, she felt that any contact between her and Fell’s Church might be bad. And Matt had never checked in. Not once. She had no idea where he was on the road, but he had better be in Sedona on time, that was all. He had deliberately cut off all communication between them. Fine. As long as he showed up when he had promised. But†¦Elena still needed to talk. To express herself. Of course! She was an idiot! She still had her faithful companion that never said a word, and never kept her waiting. Pouring herself a cup of scalding black coffee on the way, Elena dug her diary out of the bottom of her duffel bag and opened it to a fresh, clean page. There was nothing like a fresh page and an ink pen that ran smoothly to start her writing. Fifteen minutes later there was a rattle at one window and a minute later Damon was stepping through. He had several paper bags with him and Elena felt unaccountably pleased and homey. She had provided coffee, which was rather good even if it came with dried cream substitute, and Damon had supplied†¦ â€Å"Gasoline,† he said triumphantly, raising his eyebrows significantly at her as he set the bags on the table. â€Å"Just in case they try to use plants against us. No, thanks,† he added, seeing she was standing with a full cup of coffee held in his direction. â€Å"I had a garage mechanic while I was buying this. I’ll just go wash my hands.† And he disappeared, walking right past Elena. Walking right past her, without a glance, even though she was wearing her only clean pair of clothes left: jeans and a subtly colored top that looked white at first glance and only in the brightest light revealed that it was ethereally rainbow-shaded. Without a single look, Elena thought, feeling a strange sensation that somehow her life had just lapped itself. She started to throw the coffee away but then decided she needed it herself and drank it in a few scalding gulps. Then she went and stood by her diary, reading over the last two or three pages. â€Å"Are you ready to go?† Damon was shouting over the sound of running water in the bathroom. â€Å"Yes – in just a minute.† Elena read the diary pages from the previous entry, and began skimming the one before that. â€Å"We might as well go straight west from here,† Damon shouted. â€Å"We can make it in one day. They’ll think it’s a feint for one particular gate and search all the small ones. Meanwhile we’ll go on heading for the Kimon Gate and be days ahead of anyone tracking us. It’s perfect.† â€Å"Uh-huh,† Elena said, reading. â€Å"We ought to be able to meet Mutt tomorrow – maybe even this evening, depending on what kind of trouble they cause.† â€Å"Uh-huh.† â€Å"But first I wanted to ask you: do you think it’s a coincidence that our window is broken? Because I always put wards on them at night and I’m sure – † He passed a hand over his forehead. â€Å"I’m sure that I must have done that last night, as well. But something got through and broke the window and got away without a trace. That was why I bought all the the gasoline. If they try something with trees, I’ll blast them all back to Stonehenge.† And half the innocent residents of the state, Elena thought grimly. But she was in a state of such shock that not much could make an impression on top of it. â€Å"What are you doing now?† Damon was clearly ready to get up and going. â€Å"Getting rid of something I don’t need,† Elena said, and flushed the toilet, watching the torn-up bits of her diary swirl round and round before disappearing. â€Å"I wouldn’t worry about the window, though,† she said, coming back into the bedroom and slipping her shoes on. â€Å"And don’t get up for a minute, Damon. I’ve got to talk to you about something.† â€Å"Oh, come on. It can wait until we’re on the road, can’t it?† â€Å"No, it can’t, because we’ve got to pay for that window. You broke it last night, Damon. But you don’t remember doing it, do you?† Damon stared at her. She could tell that his first temptation was to laugh. His second temptation, to which he gave in, was to think that she was nuts. â€Å"I’m serious,† she said, once he had gotten up and started to pace toward the window with a distinct look of wanting to be a crow flying out of it. â€Å"Don’t you dare go anywhere, Damon, because there’s more.† â€Å"More stuff I did that I don’t remember?† Damon lounged against the wall in one of his old, arrogant poses. â€Å"Maybe I smashed a few guitars, kept the radio on until four A.M.?† â€Å"No. Not necessarily things from – last night,† Elena said, looking away. She couldn’t look at him. â€Å"Other things, from other days – â€Å" â€Å"Like maybe I’ve been trying to sabotage this trip all along,† he said, his voice laconic. He eyed the ceiling and sighed heavily. â€Å"Maybe I’ve done it just to be alone with you – â€Å" â€Å"Shut up, Damon!† Where had that come from? Well, she knew that, of course. From her feelings about last night. The problem was that she also had to get some other things settled – seriously, if he would take them. Come to think of it, that might be a better way to go about this. â€Å"Do you think that your feelings about Stefan – well, have changed at all recently?† Elena asked. â€Å"What?† â€Å"Do you think† – oh, this was so difficult looking into black eyes the color of endless space. Especially when last night they had been full of myriads of stars – â€Å"do you think that you’ve come to think of him differently? To honor his wishes more than you used to do?† Now Damon was openly examining her, just as she was examining him. â€Å"Are you serious?† he said. â€Å"Completely,† she said, and, with a supreme effort, she sent her tears back where they were supposed to go. â€Å"Something did happen last night,† he said. He was looking intently at her face. â€Å"Didn’t it?† â€Å"Something happened, yes,† Elena said. â€Å"It was – it was more of a – † She had to let out her breath, and with that almost everything went. â€Å"Shinichi! Shinichi, che bastardo! Imbroglione! That thief! I’m going to kill him slowly!† Suddenly Damon was everywhere. He was beside her, his hands on her shoulders; the next minute he was shouting imprecations out the window, then he was back, holding both her hands. But only one word mattered to Elena. Shinichi. The kitsune with his black, scarlet-tipped hair, who had made them give up so much just for the location of Stefan’s cell. â€Å"Mascalzone! Maleducato – † Elena lost track of Damon’s cursing again. So it was true. Last night had been completely stolen from Damon, taken from his mind as simply and completely as the interval when she had used Wings of Redemption and Wings of Purification on him. The latter he had agreed to. But last night – and what other things had the fox been taking? To cut out an entire evening and night – and this evening and night in particular, implied that†¦ â€Å"He never shut down the connection between my mind and his. He still can reach inside me any time he chooses.† Damon had finally stopped swearing, and stopped moving. He was sitting on the couch opposite the bed with his hands drooping between his knees. He looked singularly forlorn. â€Å"Elena, you have to tell me. What did he take from me last night? Please!† Damon looked as if he might fall on his knees in front of her, without melodrama. â€Å"If – if – it was what I think – â€Å" Elena smiled, although tears were still running down her face. â€Å"It wasn’t – what anyone would think, exactly, I suppose,† she said. â€Å"But – !† â€Å"Let’s just say that this time – was mine,† Elena said. â€Å"If he’s stolen anything else from you, or if he tries to do it in the future, then he’s fair game. But this†¦will be my secret.† Until maybe someday you break into your huge boulder of secrets, she thought. â€Å"Until I tear it out of him, along with his tongue and his tail!† snarled Damon, and it was truly the snarl of an animal. Elena was glad it wasn’t directed at her. â€Å"Don’t worry,† Damon added in a voice so chilling that it was almost more frightening than the animal fury. â€Å"I will find him, no matter where he tries to hide. And I will take it from him. I might just take his entire little furry hide off with it. I’ll make you a pair of mittens out of it, how’s that?† Elena tried to smile and did a pretty good job. She was just coming to terms with what had happened herself, although she didn’t believe for a minute that Damon would really leave her alone on the subject until he forced the memory back out of Shinichi. She realized that on some level she was punishing Damon for what Shinichi had done, and that was wrong. I promise no one will know about last night, she told herself. Not until Damon does. I won’t even tell Bonnie and Meredith. This made things a lot harder on her, and therefore probably more equitable. As they were cleaning up the debris from Damon’s most recent fit of fury, he suddenly reached up to brush a stray tear from Elena’s cheek. â€Å"Thank you – † Elena began. Then she stopped. Damon was touching his fingers to his lips. He looked at her, startled and a little disappointed. Then he shrugged. â€Å"Still unicorn bait,† he said. â€Å"Did I say that last night?† Elena hesitated, then decided that his words didn’t fall within the crucial time limits of secrecy. â€Å"Yes, you did. But – you won’t give me away, will you?† she added, suddenly anxious. â€Å"I’ve promised my friends not to say anything.† Damon was staring at her. â€Å"Why should I say anything about anybody? Unless you’re talking about the little redheaded one?† â€Å"I told you; I’m not saying anything. Except that obviously Caroline isn’t a virgin. Well, with all the ruckus about her being pregnant – â€Å" â€Å"But you remember,† Damon interjected, â€Å"I came to Fell’s Church before Stefan did; I just lurked in the shadows longer. The way you talked – â€Å" â€Å"Oh, I know. We liked boys and boys liked us, and we already had reputations. So we just talked any way we felt like talking. Some of it may have been true, but a lot of it you could take two ways – and then of course you know how boys talk – â€Å" Damon knew. He nodded. â€Å"Well and so pretty soon everyone was talking about us as if we’d done everything with everyone. They even wrote stuff about it in the paper and the yearbook and on the bathroom walls. But we had a little poem, too, and sometimes we even wrote it with our signatures on it. How did it go?† Elena cast her mind back a year, two years, more. Then she recited: â€Å"Just because you heard it, doesn’t make it true. Just because you read it, doesn’t make it so. The next time that you hear it, it may be about you. Don’t think that you can change their minds, just ’cause you know – you know!† As Elena finished, she looked at Damon, suddenly feeling the urgent need to get to Stefan. â€Å"We’re almost there,† she said. â€Å"Let’s hurry.† How to cite The Return: Shadow Souls Chapter 10, Essay examples