SEM2, W1, #1: VISUAL VOCAB STORY

Use the 10 following words (from the Jan 20 list) to describe one of the following images; include the part of speech in parenthesis:

  • antipathy – aversion; dislike
  • criterion- a standard on which a decision can be based
  • deride- to laugh at with contempt
  • elusive – difficult to find
  • fledgling – inexperienced, beginner
  • guile – deceit; particular cleverness in deceiving people
  • harangue – long, passionate, and intense speech
  • innocuous – harmless
  • irresolute – uncertain how to act; weak
  • preclude – to prevent

Image 1: http://tinyurl.com/8gj8lx

bikealley

Image 2: http://tinyurl.com/8qw3fk

swing

Image 3: http://tinyurl.com/88xjod

carnivalride

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31 responses to “SEM2, W1, #1: VISUAL VOCAB STORY

  1. Flying… free as a bird. For one second of my life there is nothing holding me back. It’s just me swinging around and around, innocuous (adj) and free, afraid of nothing. No criterion (noun) to meet, no one to tell me what to do. There’s nothing here to remind me of him. There I go again. Ever since he left I have been irresolute, (adj) lost in the blur of life. Nothing seems real anymore. Ever since that harangue (noun), the speech of a lifetime life just seems like too much. No matter how much I try to forget, I just can’t. That peace of mind I used to have is now so elusive (adj). I just think about how happy I used to be and want to be that way again. I just can’t believe he did this to me. I thought I could trust him. But I guess he had enough guile (noun) to last forever. Like we were supposed to. Forever. It’s such a vague term. How long is forever anyway? I mean if I can’t even comprehend what it is, then how could I put my hope in forever. How could I make such a fledgling (adj) mistake? I still can’t believe he’s gone. And now I can’t preclude (verb) him from getting into my thoughts. I just want to start over. To begin again. But it’s not the same. I can’t put that kind of faith in anyone again. Not after how he hurt me. I wish this wasn’t real. I wish it was a dream so I could wake up and deride (verb) this memory. I just want to feel normal again. But I don’t think I ever can. I have found an antipathy (adj) for this feeling. This feeling of loss, and even though he will never come back, the feeling of love. I still love him. And that’s what makes this even worse.

  2. The man in the first picture appears to be elusive (adj.), and he fits the criterion (n.) for looking like a thug. He is in an alley and wearing a hood, although that is a fairly pathetic disguise, if he is indeed attempting to fool someone. He does not appear innocuous (adj) at all It is as if he has no guile (n). If I had to guess he might be a fledging (adj) drug-dealer, trying to appear unconcerned, about what other people might think. If he were to be stopped by a cop the man would no doubt attempt to harangue (v) why he was innocent. He no doubt faced alot of derision (n) as a child, and he also was no doubt and antipathy (n) for society. In the end he was irresolute (adj) and didn’t know how to act. He was probably approached by some guys who wanted to make some moneyoff of him, in an attempt to preclude (adj) their own discovery. He was an easy target.

  3. He didn’t know how he was going to pay his rent this month. Work was elusive (adj.) during this time. It’s not that he was a fledgling (adj.) student, he just didn’t know what he wanted to do. He went through his life basing his decisions on the criterion (noun) set by his small-town community. He disappointed his family when he decided not to run the family’s hardware store and move away from home for college. His family thought he would go to the local college and live the life they had planned. He thought this decision to move away from home would be innocuous (adj), but this idea was harshly proved wrong when he received a harangue (noun) from his father. He father assured him that “men like us wouldn’t survive in the big city.” After this lecture, his fear of relocating was fiercely replaced with the need to prove him father wrong. When he got to the city, he found an apartment he could afford that would only slightly strain his budget (and one his friends would deride (verb) at when they saw it) and he had made a small group of friends at his college. Now that he had been there for five months, his budget was quickly running out. If he didn’t find a source of an income quickly, he’d have to drop out of college and move back home to the life he had so adamantly refused.

    He was walking home from the financial aid center when he saw an elderly woman walking alone. The first thing he noticed was her purse hanging daintily from her wrist. He looked around and the street was empty except for the woman and himself. There was no one to preclude (verb) him from taking the purse for himself. The woman was irresolute (adj), she wouldn’t try and fight him for it. He had no guile (noun), he couldn’t trick her into giving him the purse. He decided he needed the rent. He pulled his hood up and as he approached her, she looked up and when he saw the look of fear in her eyes he was disgusted with himself. He took down his hood and apologized profusely to the woman. He was furious that he even considered something so vile. He had made his antipathy (noun) well-known for thieves after his house was broken into a few years ago. After he considered resorting to thievery, he began to look at home as a place of serenity.

  4. One day this little girl wanted to go to the park, and her mother derided (verb) at her. There was absolutely no chance that they were going to go to the park in such horrid weather. But the girl endured, saying that she had promised to meet her friend there. However the mother would not budge. So the little girl decided to go out and find the park on her own. The moment she stepped outside, the weather cleared from rainy to not a cloud in the sky. She just had a glow to her face and the best attitude anyone could ask for, almost like nothing could ever go wrong.
    The park was not elusive (adj) with the youngin’s fantastic sense of direction. She found it in no time, where her friend was eagerly waiting. They had plans to finish their game of monkey tag. A more ‘sophisticated’ way of playing tag. Emma had come up with this on her own and taught it to Chelsea. Chelsea was a fledgling (noun) herself at the game. The day before, they had played their game in the forest, but emma wanted a new environment to finish up their game. It was important to go by the criterion (noun), therefore if anyone broke the rules, they would be disqualified. Before each day they played, emma would give a harangue (noun) about the rules and regulations of the game. Also she would make boundaries to insure safeness, and to preclude (verb) any possible injuries. However, the game was ultimatly innocuous (adj) therefore there was not much chance of injury. Emma had always had a certain guileless (adv) to her personality, so she would sometimes break the rules to increase her chances of victory. But Chelsea had an antipathy (noun) for emma’s guileless. But Chelsea was irresolute (adj) when it came to games anyway so she was used to it.

  5. I was riding my bicycle down the alley wearing my sweatshirt. I had finished my job and was just going home. My job, you can say requires a person to be guile (adj.). I deceive people and make money. I have been chased by everybody but I always preclude (v) them from finding me. I’m silent and elusive(adj.). I live alone in a small apartment. I basically carry out the same routine: eat dinner, watch TV, go on my computer, play games, and go to sleep. I usually don’t get dreams, but one night I had a dream. It was unusual. I was riding my bike down the same alley, when I met this girl. It was interesting. I woke up the next day irresolute(adj.). I just discarded it, and moved on. I went to work on my very awesome scheming job. I went to the marketplace I always go to, and made my booth. When the marketplace becomes crowded with people, my business booms. I deride(v.) at the fledglings(n.) that try to make a business but fail. I give out harangues(n.) that make people want to see what I have. I make criterions(n.) to help people buy things. Everybody asks for my name, and I have an antipathy(n.) for that. At the end of the day I make a lot of cash and I go home to my lonely self. That day when I went home I actually saw that innocuous(adj.) girl in my dreams. I rode slowly trying not cause attention. After a while things started happening like in my dream. I will tell you in my dream I saw that girl and after a while walking down things will not go well. I knew what was going to happen, so I rushed my bicycle forward, and made it just in time to stop was going to happen in my dream. I woke up in a hospital and well lets just say the girl was waiting for me in the waiting room. I guess all turned out well. I met the girl in my dreams. Look weird things happen, and since this good thing happened I decided to quit my old job of scheming and opened up a nice business with the girl in my dreams.

  6. I was on my home from the store when it happened. I had a bag of groceries for my grandmother and I was on my bike. I was biking down some innocuous(adj.) alleys that seemed completely harmless. The sides of the buildings towered over my head. Clothes were hanging from lines strung between the building and there were even a few shirts on the ground. That person must be a fledgling(adj.) when it comes to living here, in the slums. Losing a shirt like that could cost some serious money that a lot of people don’t have. All of a sudden, I saw a man at the end of the street, he was on a motorcycle. He started to drive toward me at full speed, but I knew there wasn’t enough room in the alley for both of us. Assuming he had misjudged the width of the alley, I stopped an dragged my bike over by a wall to preclude(v) any collisions. I looked back to the man and he had obviously directed his bike to be heading straight for me, even though there was plenty of room in the alley. I was irresolute(adj), could the person really be trying to harm me? I hopped back on my bike and began to pedal as fast as I could in the other direction, but I knew I would never be able to outpace the man on the motorcycle. I turned quickly into a side alley, escaping the small amount of openness the other alley provided. I had an extreme antipathy(noun) for such a crowded space, but I knew if I went into the smaller alleys I might be able to use guile(noun) to avoid this guy. I turned down several more alleys and stopped and waited. I was certain that I was elusive(adj) enough to avoid the man. However, just a few moments later I heard the revving of an engine and turned to see the motorcycle man facing me down from the end of the alley. Using the criterion(noun) that this guy had obviously been able to find me anywhere, I decided the only escape was the open streets. I pedaled as fast as I could to the mouth of the alley, I passed a homeless man, giving a harangue(noun) to the people near him so they might throw a few pennies at him. I reached the end of the alley and went out into the open street. I breathed a sigh of relief as I intermingled myself with the other people on bikes, there were about forty other bikers around. I tried to act inconspicuous as I pedaled further away from that alley. Hearing the revving of an engine I turned slightly to see the motorcycle man, perched on his vehicle, completely confused. I derided(verb) him silently to myself. I had escaped. Now I have to figure out why I was being chased…

  7. Why has society changed during the war? Many citizens, who were innocuous(adj), have been sent to jail for working with the enemy. Even though these citzens knew nothing about the other country, they were still classified as fledgling(adj) criminals. When the spies of the other country had supposedly entered, mass paranoia broke out. Such a bad state we were in had other countries deriding(v) at us. The One, our leader, had a harangue(n) the day before, saying he would take any means necessary to capture these spies. He was a guile(adj) leader though, so no one could trust his words. He had to meet the criterion(n) of not losing to another country. These spies, I think, have come to assasinate the One and his regime. That was why the One took such dramatic steps to stop them. He was irresolute(adj), capturing many people just tring to stop the spies instead of actually searching for them. He however could not find them because they were elusive(adj). The One only cared about himself, trying to preclude(v) his incoming death. I had already had an antipathy(n) for him. As I rode back to my parents’ house in the countryside for safety, I wondered what would happen…..

  8. I’ve seen that man ride down this alley everyday for the past eleven years of my life. He comes about fifteen minutes after Mrs.Aniccelli puts her clothes out on the line. He is usually followed by a familiar pack of kids with their familiar uniforms and their familiar pointless conversations about the trials of adolescence. Me and my familiar life. My familiar life and I.
    I climbed down the fire escape, I felt a lot cooler using it than the normal flight of stairs, and jumped off of the last ladder feeling especially satisfied with myself. On my shoulder I have a particularly elusive(adj) gray messenger bag with my journal and random things that tend to accumulate in bags. I had spent half an hour trying to find it. When I walked from the alley, a delightful ray of sunshine greeted me, followed by a mugger with a gun. Fantastic.
    I walk into the city, a bit irritated that I was now without my messenger bag. But I managed to keep the journal, I explained that it was a useless notebook and the mugger would get nothing out of it, not to mention the sentimental value. This only proves how strange my thought processes are. The first thing that comes to my mind when I’m being mugged is “Can I keep my journal?” I’m a fledgling(noun) when it comes to speech giving, inexperienced and very bad at giving them. I went into a harangue(noun) about how important the journal was to me, I think I was allowed to keep it because the speech was starting to irritate him, or was it a her? Good job you mischievousseñor/ita , you are an incredibly guile(adj) individual and no one likes you. I should really start carrying pepper spray so I can preclude(verb) these sort of things. I don’t exactly plan to get mugged, but every precaution must be taken.
    I strolled into the nearest street market and dug into my pocket, a pen! My short-lived contentment was immediately crushed when I tripped over a sac of potatoes, bringing back the horror-filled days of elementary school filled with ridicule and laughter…at me. Hurrah for being derided(?) by your peers. I got up, of course, I would have looked like an idiot hugging the ground incargo pants and a t-shirt. Actually, I would like an idiot regardless of my choice of apparel, I just looked incredibly prone to antipathy(noun) today. No one likesforeigners here, and i look as American as can be today.
    I continued walking through the market, being especially meticulous about where i stepped, and saw an innocuous pre-school age-child. I waved to him with a smile and he turned around and ran to his mother. “¡Mama, está un hombre muy misterioso me hablando!” The lady then stared at me with the scariest face I had ever seen in my life. Irresolute(adj), I just walked away. I’m not familiar with the protocol when an Argentine mother thinks that you’re a pedophile. Did i really meet the criterion(noun) for a pedophile? Really? Well, I’m a middle aged man, walking alone, waving at small children. I walked home, averting my eyes from any young-looking anythings the entire way.

  9. I rode my bike down the narrow streets of Venice. I really couldn’t remember how long I had been here or how many times my flight had been delayed. I did know, however, that I had just listened to the harangue (n), or long passionate speech, of a fledgling (adj), or inexperienced flight attendant. She had truly said nothing for the twenty minutes she had talked about the efficiency of airlines and just how amazing they were. (I knew she was American so it wasn’t language precluding (v), or preventing her from helping me.) I also knew that the time I spent in this beautiful city had been over a month longer than I had planned. I was developing an antipathy (n), or aversion, a dislike, for the water roads, that the innocuous (adj) alleys caused my twenty mile trip from the airport to take five times longer because there was no direct trip. But, even after living in a dank, elusive (adj), or hard to find apartment, for a month in a half I was irresolute (adj) or uncertain how to act around the kind people of this still foreign city.
    After five hours on my bike, I finally made to the place where I stayed. I derided (v), or laughed at with contempt, my situation. I was probably never going home, even with my guile (n), or particular cleverness in deceiving people, that had gotten me my apartment, bike and most of my meals for free. I knew I needed to find a job, but I had no criterion, (n) or any standard on which a decision can be based. I stumbled to my bed and fell against the sheets. And in no more than a few seconds it seemed I woke from this dream. On a plane back home to reality. I had only been in Venice for a few days and though it seemed a nightmare then, I would have gladly taken it over the job and life I was returning to.

  10. I have been riding all day and night, and now it was a whole different day. I was irresolute (adj.), and very tired. I was told that my destination wasn’t as elusive (adj.) as it looked, and that if I just followed the directions, I would be fine. Fine eh? I deride (v) at this earlier conversation with my boss, nearly missing a strange looking child that wasnt there a second ago. I was a fledgling (adj.) at this business, very unexperienced. But I was “family”, and it was time for me to join the family business, at least thats what my uncle said. So here I am, an innocuous (adj.) guy making suspicious deliveries to my uncle’s people but trying to preclude (v.) trouble in my case, at least. So far so good, but my day wasn’t getting any better. If ONLY I could stop and sleep for, oh maybe a day or 2, or 5. Man, I have to stop and get directions, now. All there is around me is wierd looking houses…i think they’re houses? Houses look nothing like this in Colorado. I keep riding until I see a lady on the side of the path. I start to slow down so i can ask her for directions, but when im close enough, I hear her talking, shes on the phone. Its a strange language, a sort of harangue (n.) I guess. Im sitting there for ten minutes, and when I get back on my bike, she switches over to english. And what I was hearing wasn’t very nice. She was talking about a setup, whoever it was about, she was obviously used to guileing (n.) them. This person was about to lose their job, house, car and anything else that was valuable. Then the conversation was over, just like that, and the woman was staring in my face like I had just stolen something from her. She wanted to know how long I had been there, and for some reason, I knew it was best to lie, if I wanted to live. She told me to leave, because it was a pretty dangerous pathway to take alone. She stepped away, and I knew I was automatically antipathy (n.) by her. Seemed like the farther I went ino this city, the easier it was for criterion (n.).

  11. The man on the bike does not look innocuous (adj. harmless). He is wearing his hood up which makes him look suspicious. Maybe he is just trying to stay unnoticed as he rides through the dark scary alley. Maybe it is his way of precluding (v. preventing) any encounters in the alley. He does not seem to be a fledgling (adj. inexperienced) rider. He rides over the holes in the pavement without trouble. He rides past people sleeping in the alley and others that are drinking. They deride (v. to laugh at with contempt) him as he rides by. He feels antipathy (n. dislike) for the men drinking and laughing at him. Then some gang members stand in front of his bike so that he has to stop. He feels irresolute (adj. uncertain how to act). They ask him to give them some money. He gives them a harangue (n. long passionate speech) telling them he has no money on him but is taking back something to a store. He said he had electronic parts in his bag that he is just about to get cash for. He is using guile (n. deceit) to lie his way out of the situation. He tells them he will give them the money he gets from the store. They tell him to come back to this same place to pay them or they will come looking for him. He studies the criterion (n. a standard on which a decision can be based) and agrees to there demands. His plan is to then hurry home being elusive (v. hard to find) as he goes.

  12. I woke up on a roof. I had no idea how I had gotten there, and as I tried to remember the memories just became more elusive (adj). In fact I couldn’t remember anything about my life. Not my name, my job, my age, nothing. All I could think about was the overwhelming thirst taking a hold of my body. I walked to the edge of the roof and saw a man on a bike, riding through the ally. Without warning, my instincts took over. I jumped from the roof and attacked the man, sinking my teeth into his flesh. I drank. I didn’t stop till he was completely drained. Only after I had finished did my senses return. I looked down at the poor man that I had just devoured with intense antipathy (noun). I hated him. He caused me to murder, to kill, and he made me realize that I was a monster.

    You see, in my world, vampires, werewolves, fairies, and demons are not mythical. These creatures are quite real, and are hated and feared among the human race. I was now one of the worst of them. I was a vampire. My now pale skin, god like beauty, and sharp fangs separate me from the masses. I was disgusted with my self because the thirst still burned through my body like wild fire. I had to get out. I knew from my experience with the man that because I was a fledgling (noun) the thirst would take control once more if I ran into another person. I have to get out.

    It seemed that right as I thought this she appeared. She too was marked with the skin, beauty, and fangs. She was a vampire.

    She walked slowly towards me, her steps unintentionally grace full and predatory.

    “Hello young one. I am Lynelle, guide to the new. Welcome to our race. As it is with all newborns, you have forgotten everything about yourself, including your name. Because of this, I will give you a new one.”

    She pondered for a moment before speaking again.

    “Your new name will be Aldrik. It means wise ruler, for I have a feeling that you hold many possibilities and will make a good ruler for our people.” Her voice was wise and smooth as she spoke.
    After hearing her words it took me a few moments to gather my thoughts before I spoke again, my anger and hatred coming back with full force.

    “I refuse your welcome and your name. I refuse to lead a pack of monsters. Your race disgusts me and if possible I would have never become a part of it.”

    “How dare you speak that way of our people! You know nothing of us! You base your hate off cruel stereotypes and false rumors. Your criterion (noun) for hating us is stupid and immature. I usually do not make mistakes in my judgment, but there is always a first. I have no idea how I mistook such a cruel and cowardly man as your self to be the future leader of our magnificent race.” She finished her harangue (noun) as she derided (verb) at her mistake.

    Her words had an intense affect on me. I was suddenly angry once more. I was no coward. I would prove this woman wrong, I would lead her people, but I would lead them to their doom. At the end of my reign, there will be no more vampires to haunt this world. I would be guile (adj) and seem innocuous (adj), while I was really driving there race to extinction. With these plans at the front of my thoughts, I spoke again.
    “You have not made a mistake in judging me. Please allow me a second chance, and forgive me for my earlier actions. I am new to this race, and some old prejudices will take some work to get rid of. I will do my best to not disappoint your or our people.”
    After I said this she just stared at me. It seemed that she was searching for the motive behind my words. Her gaze was intense, but I knew I mustn’t turn away or she would not accept me. I kept on staring. Finally finding nothing she spoke once more.
    “Welcome to the coven, and to a whole new way of life. I must warn you, to preclude (verb) the people from assuming you irresolute (adj) then you mustn’t act like it. Even if your are afraid and unsure, act like you know what you’re doing, make the coven trust you and your skills and you shall go far.” I just nodded and followed as she walked away, leading me to my new home and unknowingly to the downfall of her race.”

  13. Image No. 1

    The boy was peddling as fast as he could. Going through the narrow backstreets of the ancient city on a bicycle is not easy, but such minor inconveniences did not preclude (v) the boy’s desire to help his family. Unlike most boy of his age, this boy had an antipathy (n) toward idleness. Every day after school, the boy rode his bicycle to the evening market and opened up a fledgling (adj) business, selling nuts and raisins. Some customers have him a hard time and bought a few cents worth of goods only after haranguing (n), but most saw him as an innocuous (adj) boy and bought all they could afford from him. The boy seemed without guile (n) and elicited good will from most of his customers. Even the patrolling police who normally did not allow street sales without permit was irresolute (adj) about enforcing the rules against the boy. The city did set criterion (n) by which all merchants are to adhere, but in this case an exception was made. No one could deride (v) the boy’s effort to bring a few dollars to help his brothers and sisters eat. He knew that chances of survival for his parents were elusive, (adj) but the cool evening wind on his face reminded him that he must hope for them every day.

  14. Thinking I would be irresolute (adj. uncertain how to act; weak) because I was new to the gang and a fledgling (adj. inexperienced, beginner), my ability to find and safely bring back the package was the criterion (n. a standard on which a decision can be based) for whether I would be accepted or not. I greatly desired this acceptance, for I had been derided (v. to laugh at with contempt) and treated with antipathy (adj. aversion; dislike) by the other members of the gang since I had joined. I was ready for the initiation, but there was one problem. The package I found out was located in the local police headquarters for it was evidence of a crime that we had done before I joined. I knew it was too easy. Someone told me we had to get it back do the police would not be on our back, but I had a feeling there was a trick going on. It took some guile (adj. deceit; particular cleverness in deceiving people), and unfortunately a small harangue (n. long, passionate, and intense speech) to convince them to show me the package. It was in a small, innocuous (adj. harmless) yellow sack. Before I even took the time to see what was inside, I grabbed it and ran. They tried to preclude (v. to prevent) me from escaping, but i managed to get away to an elusive (adj. difficult to find) alleyway on my bike. While I rode back to the gang, I took a peek inside the bag. An immense feeling of foolishness came over me. I had been pranked. No wonder it smelled like dog crap…

  15. He was a no one to everyone, but he was the one who changed my life; forever.

    Guys like him are elusive (adj) and difficult to find. He didn’t care what people thought about him, but he wasn’t a punk. I met him in the coffee shop. I know, quite cliche and totally typical, but I’m just telling you my story.
    You have to understand me, I NEVER drink coffee. Ever. I was just there because this up and coming singer who was going to play there, on the day I met Jeff. I had forgotten exactly why I didn’t drink coffee, I couldn’t imagine the reason for my antipathy(n.) and dislike. I stepped up to the counter just as much of a fledgling (n.) and beginner like a kid is in a school on their first day. Jeff was taking my order. I was dreading the derider (n) and laughs of ridicule he would give me when I told him I hadn’t ever ordered coffee before, but he just smiled when ever I bashfully explained myself.
    “We have many criteria (n.) that can help you make your decision. Do you want a hot, or cold drink?”
    His smile made me forget about the question that he had asked me. I blanked out, then realized I had been starring at him for so long. I was so embarrassed that I scanned my eyes across the board, and read the first thing that I laid eyes upon.
    “Costa Rica Special Dark blend. Any way that you think is best.” He could obviously see my irresolute and weak disposition, and he nodded at my request. I paid, and got my drink without saying another word to him.
    The singer performed, but left me disappointed, along with that coffee. It was the most miserable drink I had ever tasted. I took one sip and didn’t touch it again. I left to go to the store to pick up a box of HoneyNut Cherios for my breakfast and dinners. I like walking everywhere, so I was on my way to the store, when a bicycler came out of an ally way and crashed into me. I toppled over, and tried to preclude (verb) and prevent a loud shrill of pain to escape from my mouth. Guess who it was? Yeah, Jeff. We both scrambled up, and he spoke to me first, introducing himself very kindly. I smiled, and said, “I’m Ruby.” We talked about the coffee that I paid so much for, and how it was sat down and neglected. We walked all the way to the grocery store just talking. He was amazing, and when I was with him, the natures of my day such as cars and creepy men seemed innocuous (adj) and harmless. He said that he had just started work yesterday, and that it was his first job. I asked him why he had never worked before, and he just smiled and looked at me. I raised my eyebrow as if asking for information, and he just responded with “I just moved in to my first home.” That confused me. He seemed so smart, and patient with my explanations. I could just see him explaining a long speech or harangue to me as we walked around the city. It was dawn in what seemed like minutes, and so we departed. I went to the coffee shop everyday, and ordered a glass of water, with a ‘gourmet’ donut. After a few months, I was walking about one day, and I saw him laying down on the ground. I was worried, and I checked up on him. He smiled at the moment he saw me, and I smiled back with a slight look of puzzlement. He explained how he got hour cut backs a couple of months ago in the coffee shop, and he had to move out of his house…which later he explains that he was living in a hotel. The guile (n.) he had first posed at me made me laugh, yet think seriously about how I trust him. He apologized for not telling him, and that he really didn’t care what everyone else thought about him, except me. And he could afford to loose me. It was amazing how he expressed how much I had changed his life. I told him that living in a hotel would be very very hard, and I respected him for that.

    I am married to him now, and we both work at that coffee restaurant we met at, in fact, we own it! Our nice little home is not to far from the shop. But our shop isn’t just a normal coffee place. Jeff and I were inspired to make coffee for homeless people. He likes letting people know that in our place, we don’t judge you. He doesn’t care about what other people say about giving coffee out to the poor, or changing the hours, or even painting the outside a puke green color, because that’s all we could afford at the time, he just cares that everyone experiences something different. Whether it be an exotic cup of coffee, or a regular, warm cup of coffee in hand, everyone gets something out of our store. I love helping him out; that is my passion. He likes coffee and serving, and I like helping him do what ever he loves. I can’t believe how selfish I was before, and I didn’t ever realize it. He definitely changed my life, and I consider him my hero and my realization of hospitality, no matter how lame it might sound.

  16. Leah, after a long day at school, is finally able to relax herself.

    At school, Leah was bullied again today. Fred, being very guile (adj.), is able to trick Leah into eating an egg-salad sandwich that had been sitting around in his locker for a couple of weeks. And he was always able to preclude (v.) the principal’s wrath.

    “I thought we were taught to give. That idea was the criterion (n.) I based my actions on. That’s why I wanted to give her something. I didn’t know it was stale. I would’ve eaten it. Heck, I thought it was the lunch my mom packed!”

    ‘Psh, yeah right,’ thought Leah.

    During gym class, Leah was also beat up. A fledgling (n.) at dodge ball, Leah was irresolute (adj.) on whether to dodge the ball or catch it when it was thrown at her. She ended being slammed in the face. She could hear Fred deride (v.) from all the way across the gym. Leah never knew why Fred had an antipathy (n.) toward her.

    ‘What did I do?’ she questioned herself while walking towards the playground. Then, another even more dreadful question crossed her mind. ‘What can I do?’ Leah positioned herself onto the swing. Thinking about Fred, her heart ached and pounded. A certain feeling in her stomach left her wanting more. More of something. This feeling. Her cheeks turned red a little and her eyes softened. ‘Fred. Why do I like him so much?’

    Just then, the sun was setting, and a figure walked towards her. The sun created a dark silhouette of a boy striding confidently her way. As the figure came nearer, she saw the face of her dreams; the face with a few freckles and red hair. The face of Fred.

    “You’re so elusive (adj.), Leah. I searched everywhere. I never thought you’d be here. Oh well, glad I found you.”

    Leah was surprised how softly Fred could talk. Could this really be Fred? Could Fred really be this innocuous (adj.)? Yes.

    “Listen, Leah. I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you at school. All I ever wanted was for you…to notice me. What I’m saying is that…”

    Fred held his breath.

    “I love you.”

    Leah was touched by this harangue (adj.) speech. She thought to herself, ‘Will tomorrow be different?”

    Fred’s face leaned closer to Leah and Leah bent forward in response. Their faces came together, and Leah puckered and…kissed nothing. Fred was laughing hysterically.

    “Hahahahaha! You’re such a joke! You actually believed me there! Keep dreaming while you can!”

    Leah sighed. ‘No, tomorrow’ll be the same.’

  17. Student Response #1

    I’m responding to student number 16.

    When I first read your story, I thought it was going to be the typical ‘boy bothers girl because he likes her’ story. I was pleasantly surprised with the ending. I really appreciated that you didn’t end your story the way I expected because there are way too many stories like that. At the end I actually started laughing. That may be a bit cruel, but the way you wrote made me feel sorry for Leah, but also made me laugh out loud. I’m not sure if that was your goal or not, but I really enjoyed your story. Also, I didn’t even notice that you were using required vocabulary in the story. You integrate your words very well, and the story didn’t seem blotchy because the words weren’t randomly thrown in there. You seemed to have really cared about it because it was very easy to read.

  18. Student Response #2

    I am responding to student #6

    I like your story a lot. I didn’t think I would get as caught up in it as I did. I could see the shirts that had fallen as he peddled by and I could hear that revving of the engine. I felt like I was there. I felt myself worrying that he wouldn’t escape. You know how to draw someone in quickly which is a definite plus. I liked the writing style, and hope that you continue this story later.

  19. Student Response #3

    I am responding to Student #14

    Your story was so funny. I thought, when I first heard the word gang, that it would be kind of a serious story. I thought it was going to be one of those stories where the kid tries to prove himsel to raise his status. But in your story, the kid didn’t. After some SAT vocab words, I was able to know something weird was going on. Your story was at first all suspenseful, but then became a funny story after that last sentence. I thought it was pretty cool how you were able to do that .The vocab words were well established throughout the story. I thought it was a really good story.

  20. Student Response #4

    I am responding to student #15

    Wow. Your story is awesome! I was kind of dreading responding to these vocab stories but was quite thrilled once I read yours. It might be ‘cliché’ but so amazing! The fact that a coffee shop brings 2 people from 2 different worlds together, someone who has a house and someone who is homeless, is so cute! While reading this I also felt like I was there. You were very descriptive and very detail oriented. You integrated the vocab words in really well too. I love this story; it definitely changes my outlook towards responding to these.

  21. Student Response #5

    I am responding to student number 8.

    First off, I can totally relate with your character wanting to save his notebook. I too find great value in writing, though I doubt a mugger with a gun would take the time to reach into his new found belonging to retrieve a so valued journal. I love writing and have many filled notebooks, which I would be devastated to lose through robbery. Also I like the way your story is quite random. It actually makes it seem more believable, as life is usually an accumulation of incredibly random actions. As for the pedophilic ending; interesting. Again, very random but it makes the character a little stranger, especially since it doesn’t really resolve. But the Spanish? I am totally impressed.

  22. Student Response #6

    I am responding to Student #3.

    I really liked the simplicity of this story. It felt like it was just one moment in time, yet it was way important. The thing was, it doesn’t sound like something important, or even something worth noting. It was just a couple seconds (the second part was) in a man’s life, and it’s not like he even went through with it. He stopped just before he did.

    So what’s the story? How’s it exciting?

    Somehow, I loved it. I think I loved it because it lacked the whole ”trying to make this so depressing, so deep, so good”, or at least I didn’t see that in this story. It was a simple story about the thoughts that all of us get sometimes.

    Thank you very much for this thought provoking story.

  23. Student Response #7

    I’m responding to student #2

    I do not wish to be rude, but this entry is called vocab story. You just described the picture. When going through these, I wanted to come across some decent short stories. While a good description, I would have liked to see you take it farther.

    To take your assumptions about the hooded man, and form a story around them. For example, instead of just saying that you thought he could have been an inexperienced drug dealer, you could have told a story about his first experience with a client, or why he became a dealer in the first place.

    I know this week’s vocab story is mandatory, and that you probably already wrote your entry by the time this is posted, but I challenge you to take your observations farther. Explore your possibilities as a writer. Your descriptions were very detailed, so next time just take them, and make a story.

  24. Student Response #8

    In response to Student 6:

    This was one of the vocab stories that I thought was interesting on this entry. First off, I commend you for your integration of the words. In my opinion, any person who would have read this story couldn’t have noticed you were having to use required vocab words. Second I like how you created a sort of cliff hanger kind of conclusion at the end. Maybe you should continue this story in one of the future vocab entries. If you did then I would certainly take time to read it. I am curious to see what happens next.

  25. I am responding to student #8

    Your story reminded me about how most of my days are. I thought your story was clever and it made me laugh at all the sarcastic comments the narrator made. I also thought the little boy was really cute. Ican picture him with this cute little spanish voice tugging on his mommy’s skirt while she does everything to protect him. The reason I think your story is so special is because it makes a really bad day, funny. It is important to be able to laugh at yourself even when your day is going the way this guy’s day is going. I loved the part about the mugger. The mugger even scared me because you didn’t use a seperate sentence for him, you just included him in the sentence where the man was going outside so he startled me. I think this story is pretty characteristi of you the author(I’m pretty sure I know who wrote it) and it was great seeing you use your wit. Your mysterious nature made me wonder…what was in the journal?

  26. Student Response #10

    I’m responding to student #2.

    I loved your story. Or maybe I should say a list of facts about a random person. But the simplicity of it is what makes it golden. Plus, the last sentence is what ties the simplicity together. When targeting someone, the ‘targeter’ can’t know much about his or her target, or else he or she would start to have feelings for the target. Then the target would change from an easy target to a target with deep historical and emotional background, causing the ‘targeter’ to hesitate. Therefore, only basic information about the target is only needed to identify the target. The target doesn’t need to be personified.

  27. Student Response #11

    I’m responding to student #16.

    The first thing that drew me into your story was the first line of the first paragraph. Bullying is a really touchy subject because even though it’s quite commonplace in our world, that doesn’t make it any less awful. This story is incredibly sad when you think about it. I mean, just imagine if that was done to you. The only one you really cared about absolutely detests you, and frequently humiliates you. And then to lie about loving her and then laughing so cruelly at her? That’s mortifying.

    That said, it surprised me as to how lightly she seemed to take that. Bullying is really difficult to deal with, and while I understand it becoming more mundane because it happens all the time, I don’t understand her apathy at the last part.

  28. Student Response #12

    I am responding to student #8.

    I loved this entry. Sarcastic and random, the descriptive language really paints an ‘urban’ picture in the reader’s head. The narrator’s commentary, usually sarcastic and mocking, make the story more real (for me, anyway, since I am a big user of sarcasm). In addition, I’m pretty sure I know who the author of this story is because of the tone and language use, which is
    a great example of how nicely the language and thoughts of the writer were put down.

    My favorite part of this story was how it started out with familiarity. “Me and my familiar life. My familiar life and I.” The ‘story’ unfolds with a bunch of random events, showing that perhaps the narrator’s life (and life in general, for that matter) aren’t that familiar and predictable after all.

    The pedophilia comment near the end made me smile and laugh a bit. It was an interesting twist to the story.

  29. Student Response #13

    I’m responding to student #13.

    This story is mysteriously told. The descriptions are vague, and none of the people are given names. It sounds like it could be the beginning of a very interesting story. I’m really curious about the “ancient city,” and how things turn out for the boy. Why do his parents depend on him for survival? Maybe they’re sick with an ancient disease, or maybe they’re wanted by the government and have to stay in hiding… Mysterious stories always intrigue me because there’s plenty of room for imagination.

  30. Student Response #14

    I am respondig to student #2

    your story is absolutly amazing.

    one thing i like about yours and many of the other entrys is that poeple have the ability to take completely random pictures and turn them into whatever they want. in your story you chose to make the man on the bike a “thug”. but in reality that man could have been anyone. i chose this entry becouse of the ones that i read i thought it was the most creative. i believe if there had been more time spent on this entry you could have made a good story out of this picture with your idea. one thing that bothers me about the storys on this pictute is that most of them are negative. this man is automatically assumed to be doing bad, weather he is homless or selling drugs. I began to wonder if i was riding a bike down the street with a hoodie, would poeple think this about me.

  31. Student Response #15

    I am responding to Student #9.

    I enjoyed your story but I think you could have included a few more details about the main character.

    I was wondering a few things, though, when I finished your story; why was he/she so disgusted with Venice? how had the flight been delayed for a month? and what was so terrible about the job he was returning to? I think absolutely nothing could make a person sick of Venice, but I would be interested to find why this character is. I’m not sure that its possible to delay a flight for a month unless there was a terrorist attack or all of the airplanes magically combusted. The one I would really like to know, though, is why the person was sick of Venice, and wanted to go to their job. Then, when the person woke up, they hated their job and would prefer Venice. I was confused at the end, and hoped you would have summed it up a little more.

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