12 research outputs found
Jenna\u27s Story, Part I
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay\u27s first paragraph.
Jenna slid the needle into her pulsing brachial vein; she always used medical terms she had learned before she dropped out of school, at least the ones that she remembered from that long ago. The prick of the needle and the rush of meth that flooded into her veins when she pushed the plunger down didn\u27t bother her anymore. They were just minor inconveniences. She could feel it melt into her blood and run along the pathways of her body to her brain. Jenna fell back into the green beanbag chair on the floor in front of her mirror. It was taking longer than normal for the life to come back to her when she shot up, but it would come eventually; the waiting is what bothered her
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In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay\u27s first paragraph.
I pulled the sliding glass door tot he basement open as Tawny and I stumbled in and collapsed on the floor, dying of laughter. We were both dripping with water, soaking the floor underneath us, but we couldn\u27t stop laughing
The Long Red Staircase
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay\u27s first paragraph.
It was cold outside and puddles of fresh rain were scattered along the sidewalk in front of 1400 Sycamore Drive. It was an hour past midnight. red and blue lights painted the fog and sirens pierced the silence of the neighborhood. There was a crowd of people being held off by the police with the lazy look of a cat in their eyes. Bill Ward weaved his way through the crowd, but was stopped by an officer at behind the bright yellow tape
The Long Red Staircase
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay\u27s first paragraph.
It was cold outside and puddles of fresh rain were scattered along the sidewalk in front of 1400 Sycamore Drive. It was an hour past midnight. red and blue lights painted the fog and sirens pierced the silence of the neighborhood. There was a crowd of people being held off by the police with the lazy look of a cat in their eyes. Bill Ward weaved his way through the crowd, but was stopped by an officer at behind the bright yellow tape
Jenna\u27s Story, Part I
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay\u27s first paragraph.
Jenna slid the needle into her pulsing brachial vein; she always used medical terms she had learned before she dropped out of school, at least the ones that she remembered from that long ago. The prick of the needle and the rush of meth that flooded into her veins when she pushed the plunger down didn\u27t bother her anymore. They were just minor inconveniences. She could feel it melt into her blood and run along the pathways of her body to her brain. Jenna fell back into the green beanbag chair on the floor in front of her mirror. It was taking longer than normal for the life to come back to her when she shot up, but it would come eventually; the waiting is what bothered her