He Never Liked Cake (EXCERPT) by Janna Leyde

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            He had not been home in precisely 87 days—almost three months, which amounted to so many weeks that I’d quit counting. The days of chicken salad sandwiches and chairs that hurt my tailbone were long past. So were the days of watching a familiar reality fade away. These days my mother and I had mastered a perfect illusion of sameness, masking the gap of before and after brain injury.

            She winterized the boat, made time to throw sticks and tennis balls to Meagan, helped me with math homework. I thought her intelligence and perfectionist approach to things would be the trick to algebra, but we were both stumped, bored and frustrated. She cooked for us, mowed the grass and kept the garage clean. She went to my volleyball games and chorus concerts, and drove me to Speech tournaments in the wee morning hours on Saturdays. She lectured me about cars, constantly. About riding with my friends, and how to pay attention to who was a good driver, who was responsible.

            It was as if my dad had been on a long vacation. He could walk in the door and slip right back into our lives. Except my mother kept referring to my father as “handicapped, both mentally and physically.” She had me prepared to babysit my father—meal times, bedtimes and do and don’ts and lists. I was a good babysitter, the kind that gave all the kids on my block secret snacks and extended bedtimes.

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PARTY GIRL by Lucille Lang Day

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            Ginger had long legs, jade-green eyes, and hair as red as autumn leaves. These days, at sixty-three, she had to henna her hair, and though it wasn’t as lustrous as it once had been, it was still thick and wavy and reached past her shoulders, a mane she could toss as she danced. The skin now sagged on her upper arms, and her thighs were a bit lumpy, but with sleeves and pants or a long enough skirt, nobody needed to know. She wore size 4, had no stiffness in her joints, and was always raring to go.

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Is it legal to get some help with your academic essay writing?

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            Students are to produce a great number of written academic papers in various subjects. This is certainly a good practice for their comprehension, writing, analyzing skills. At the same time writing these papers could be really challenging, especially under the condition of absence of the needed experience and skills. In most cases students need professional help, as there are a lot of types of essays, there are a lot of subjects and topics, students are to work within limited periods of time and learn to find correct and reliable sources. Certainly professors and tutors are ready to help, but they would hardly have enough time to answer all questions of all students. Sometimes getting direct help with a written paper is compared to plagiarism. These are absolutely two different things, as such papers do not present copied and pasted information from other sources, instead these are the original researches, done on the basis of primary and secondary sources. Students are able to save some time and research the provided data, this will not have poor impact upon their learning abilities and their final knowledge, but would deprive them of unnecessary stress and spoilt nerves. Students would be able to read and perceive all the information, presented in the easy-to-comprehend way. The benefits of custom-writing services are evident for those students, whose native language is not English. They are to adjust to studies at college or University even more, than local students. When they get adequate and complete support in producing of their written assignments, this provides a lot of opportunities for them to assimilate to a different language, learn about the types of the papers and formatting instructions on the basis of the ready made examples. Generally students are able to become more self-assured and more involved into the subjects, if they are not in the state of stress because of written papers. You can find

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In Guatemala by Joan Potter

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            I’m sitting next to my Spanish teacher in her dusty old Honda as she pulls into the town square and parks on the packed dirt near a stone wall. The square is crowded with people, mostly women and children in traditional Maya dress; the fragrant smoke of cooking fires floats above them. As I step out of the car I feel dazed, as if I were in a dream.

            A young woman rushes toward me from across the plaza – a small, solid woman with shining dark eyes and a beautiful wide smile. “Hola, Juanita,” she calls. She wraps her arms around me and the warmth of her hug makes my eyes fill with tears. I know she must be Maria Francisco, the wife of my friend Elio. But how did she recognize me so instantly?

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A Night with Gerald by Ben Bellizzi

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            It was Thursday night and once again Gerald was packing them into the Old Town Pub. They came through the door in twos, the men stepping uncomfortably in slacks that had been purchased for them, the women attempting to appear grand in their pearls and summer dresses while they held their men close and claimed them. The couples at the tables settled in and agreed, ‘This is nice, we’re glad we did this,” while those who’d arrived late were forced to either balance on stools or lean against the walls. No one wanted to arrive too early, for the food went right through you, but there were certain sacrifices to be made for a big night out. It was Thursday and Gerald was playing, there was nowhere else to be.

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