This passage titled as getting lost is written by Matt Imman. The genre of this piece of text is nonfiction with themes of an adventure and traveling through the writer’s way to her solo trip to Koreas Green Tea Fields. The writer’s tone is friendly yet entertaining. ” but my korean is virtually non-existent” and “I hopped on the bus and tried to relax with a book, focusing on the book was difficult as I had never done this journey before”. So despite his seeming kindness, he was no help for me” The structure of this passage is in the form of a narrative text and the language varies from informal to semi formal. The language of the text is straightforward and very engaging and the vocabulary is simple . The extract holds various techniques to attach the reader to this extract. As for the audience of this text is mainly adults and tourists who are interested in traveling and at some extent interested in disadvantages and foreign problems. The text also creates an awareness of the problems which a tourist might face in foreign countries. Furthermore, the theme of the text can be recognized as travel. The writer also has used personification in the end of his passage “The roads will take you.”
Furthermore, the writer begins with a brief link to her past writing about a solo weekend to Koreas Boseong Green Tea Fields and based on the writer’s experience of touring Korea. The first and foremost detectable feature can be the amount of the description the author has used and how he has coupled words with adjectives. “I thank the universe for smartphones because without mine I wouldn’t have had the slightest clue of where to go.” “ At this point in the story I should mention that it was raining and that I also had an injured foot.” This brightens up the text and adds clarity in it and makes the reader attached to the passage. Stats are mentioned during the text “At 11pm, 6 hours late”.The writer has incorporated multiple figures of speech for effect. “I couldn’t help but smile” The writer used simple words like “relish” and “ Miserable” The writer also uses irony “ I would have only been miserable for the duration of the trip”. The author has also used rhetorical questions in his passage, “Where would have been the fun in that?”
In conclusion, the writer has used various linguistic elements and techniques such as simple vocabulary, figures of speech and sarcasm to add effect to the passage. By this, she engages the reader, sustains the audience’s interest, makes her point distinctively and creates a highly emotive picture.
The sound of the ringing bell clashed with the roar of the threatening cobalt waves. Overhead, the sky boomed with bleached shards of lightning, sending my panic-stricken cat darting inside. Particles of sand and minuscule chunks of seashells rushed along with the fierce wind, creating a border between the sand and the sea. I gazed over at the beach, squinted my eyes, and saw an auric earring glint next to carcasses of washed up fish. Wet sand clumped underneath my feet as I walked over to inspect it. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I tried to clean the blood that penetrated out of my skin as I pricked my finger with the razor edge of the small gold earring.
Chaos unleashed as the bell rang and I went towards the door. Just as my brother Bill entered, our cat Achilles ran towards him, hitting the table console, and knocking over the jar of decorative seashells. Glass shattered everywhere. Taking advantage of our distress, Achilles tried escaping the house. He was trying to get past Bill, as Bill, perplexed, shut the door close. A cry of anguish escaped Achilles, for his tail got caught between the door. Bill let him free by immediately opening the door. Achilles rolled his eyes to the back of his head, and left us standing confused. A few calm, quiet seconds later, a loud “meow” was heard and more glass was shattered. Bill I ran towards the lounge and saw the horror which had discharged. The fish tank stood no longer in one piece, and Achilles had our pet goldfish Aphrodite in it’s mouth. I kneeled down towards the un-tethered cat to try to get Aphrodite out of his mouth. Just as my hand advanced towards him, he put his paw up to scratch me, but I was able to move my face away. Instead his tiny hand got stuck in my earring and he sliced my earlobe in half.
As I walked down the beach, looking at the starry night sky fade away as the bright shining sun came out, the cool, gentle breeze blew my hair around. The seashells that were hung up in a cafe nearby kept on bumping into each other making a calming clicking sound. I could hear the church bells ringing to show it was time for prayer, a scrawny little tabby cat perked up as soon as they rang and ran into the bushes. The low tide kept washing up pebbles and old seaweed, the cold water felt like I was walking on ice.
With bated breath, I stood behind the thick red stage curtains that were shielding me from the bright flashes that would soon encompass me as soon as the barrier of fabric was pulled aside.
Hours of preparation could never gird my loins for what awaited me.
My stomach was in knots, making me wish I could keel over and puke my guts out. Unfortunately, I could not.
I can duly confirm that a medical phenomenon took place in my abdomen, as I waited for my impending doom, when I felt my intestines twist and turn. Nausea arose, as the hefty drapes were pulled apart. I swallowed the lump in my throat, or rather, tried to swallow it but it seemed to have refused to go down.
I focused on my surroundings in order to divert my attention from the unsettling thoughts in my head.
The first to catch my eye was the nearly full theatre, which was not a good sight for my queasy middle. I looked down and focused hard on the floor sheets, which gave an unsuccessful impression of an authentic hardwood floor, which were peeling from the sides and caused a fellow cast mate of mine to trip over them. I suppressed a smile as I strained my eyes to admire the hues of brown on the ground.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The pulsations of the music synchronized with my racing heartbeat, creating an entirely new kind of tune.
Beads of sweat slowly formed on my temples, a rather large one slid down from the middle of my forehead and went straight between my eyebrows, then it stopped slightly before speeding down the slope of my nose.
My chest rose as I gulped down air in order to cool my overheated build and reduce the copious amount of perspiration that had collected on my face and neck.
It was finally time for me to begin my performance, as indicated by the redolent looks given by the director, a mousy looking man who had a wispy mustache.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat – once, twice, thrice – but it seemed my vocal cords had refused to cooperate. The director’s glare grew even more menacing just as my face began to burn and I turned to flee from the stage of my embarrassment.
Thirteen. It’s a simple number some people refer to as an unlucky number but that wasn’t the case for someone like Zymal. Thirteen was an important number to her; it was her lucky charm and it wasn’t something she hid; she rather talked about it obsessively.
Zymal was someone who a lot of people knew she was a singer or artist as some might say, it was true she did create art. She always wrote her own songs which were never meaningless; they were detailed and written beautifully. Some might say that she was successful as she was talented which was true but she always gave credits to her lucky charm. She had many reasons why it was her lucky charm and why it was also her favourite number.
She was born on the thirteenth,she turned thirteen on Friday the thirteenth,she wrote a song called thirteen and the song became a hit once it was out,her first album went gold in thirteen weeks,her first song to ever go number one on the charts had a thirteen second intro(which she says she didn’t do on purpose),and every time she had won an award at an award show she sat in the thirteenth row or thrown “M” which is the thirteenth letter. She somehow always found ways to relate thirteen in things she does. She also talks about the time when she first won an award after a performance the producer had come to her and told her she’s going on in thirteen seconds and later she won the award she was nominated for and her performance went well as well.
Another thing she does that she gets called nerdy for is to make sure she has a good show. One of her pre show “rituals” was to have her mother draw on a thirteen on her hand before every show with makeup and she never used to go on stage without it. One time she said that her mom couldn’t be there and she didn’t want to draw the thirteen herself as she felt it ruined the “ritual” so she didn’t end up drawing it in that same concert she fell down while singing a song and fell down when climbing the stairs as well and she remembers the concert after that when her mom did draw it in her hand went smoothly.
She had always thought about how her thirteenth album would be but knew that time was way to far so when two thousand and thirteen came around she decided to release an album then she usually did country songs and was known as a country singer but for this album she decided to switch genres to see if it worked for her as pop music was making a huge impact in the music industry. She was nervous about releasing the album as it was her first experience with pop music but the outcome and feedback was incredibly positive and the album became the most awarded pop album in history.
Even it only being her first pop album it made a huge impact in pop-culture music as many people recognised it as a unique work of art and she thought she had never made a better decision and once again found it crazy that the album was released in two thousand and thirteen.
She found it weird why people considered thirteen as an unlucky number as it had always been the best lucky charm for her and would always dream about getting ten more cats so she could have thirteen cats in total.
Like all great blockbuster films and novels, it started with a heist.
Seven years ago, Luc Kraig, a convict and a mafia don, Bella Hofstader, a spy known as the Wraith, and Franz Flahey, a sharpshooter with a bit of an addiction, came together to break into the parliament to retrieve a man of great importance, a man who could change it all.
“For those who are just joining us, a man named Shu Ketter Hofstader is in the hands of the Maycomb parliament. A man of great accomplishments, Mr.Ketter is the founder and owner of the world renowned Shu Laboratories in several states of Maycomb…” The reporters voiced subdued as Luc turned the television off with a tumultuous sigh.
“I know you’re here Wraith” said Luc tentatively.
“Of course I am, where else would I be during a time of such great complexity?” replied Bella in a whisper, choking back tears with great difficulty. A big, fat dewdrop rolled down her lean, structured face.
Luc felt a pang in his heart, but since he had to maintain his bad-boy reputation, he cleared his throat and said with great solemnity, “I really don’t know why you’re here, Hofstader. Your dad, a dangerous criminal, is in Maycomb prison, it must be hard for you, but there’s nothing I can or want to do for you. Good day.” He took his leave, or at least tried to, because Bella’s small hands which rested gently on his shoulders, stopped him in his tracks.
“Please” she said softly, tears glistening in her brown eyes, which looked like a deep pool of melted dark chocolate in the warm summer sunlight, which seeped shyly through the apartment window. She continued hurriedly, “You know what’ll happen to us, all of us will be erased from the world – you, Franz. None of us are strong enough to sustain the power of Pharis Clam-”
“Gather all the information you can.” interrupted Luc, his voice thick with doubt. “Send Franz to me. We have absolutely no time to waste, it’s a man we have to kidnap after all.” With that he took his leave, without giving Bella the chance to show her gratitude.
Bella smiled from ear to ear. “Thank you.” she said contentedly to the empty space where Luc had been mere seconds ago. A faint light of hope started to flicker in her heart. With steps as light as the feathers, she took her exeunt.
Here’s everything you need to know of the heist crew: Luc was a criminal. A seventeen year old, downtown Maycomb mafia don – who couldn’t vote, for he was still a minor, but could easily break into the parliament house, and unleash hell upon those in power. Ironic, right?
Bella was called the Wraith. Abandoned by her parents as a child, she found her way to downtown Maycomb, and took refuge under the wing of Luc. For him she gathered all kinds of information he needed. She was a phantom. An extraordinary spy with the gift of climbing on rooftops and never getting caught, hence she earned the name of Wraith.
Franz Flahey was playing cards – as always – at the Brick’n’Brick Club, a safe haven for all those whose sole purpose in life is to gamble their way into extraordinary riches of the world. His revolvers hung loosely on his overalls. He lived for two things: gambling and shooting. His revolvers, bought with gambled money, meant more to him than anything in the world.
Bella, creeped up silently beside Franz. “Flahey.” She whispered in his ear.
Franz, without a hint of surprise, asked, “what?” without removing his eyes from the cards.
“Luc has a job for you.” Franz’s eyes glimmered and a faint smile showed on his lips. He still didn’t look up. “We are breaking into the Parliament House.” This apparently was news worthy of his attention, for his face snapped towards her direction.
“We are?” he grinned like a cheshire cat.
The annual WinterWonder Week ball was taking place at the parliament house. Bella dressed up in the most extravagant flowy gown she could steal, Luc looked handsome in a crispy white shirt, paired with a black coat and black pants, Franz looked decent, for he finally showered after seven days.
They entered the Parliament House, people were standing in groups left and right, with tall glasses of wine in their hands. The trio sneaked into the Prison sector of the Parliament House. After scouring through the cells, they finally found Shu Ketter Hofstader.
“Father.” whispered Bella, tears rolling down her cheeks.
The man whom Bella called father was Dr. Shu Ketter Hofstader. He was the owner of Shu laboratories, the biggest research labs of Maycomb. Mr. Ketter was a big believer of getting rid of waste. He came up with the idea of getting the earth cleansed of all those organisms who weren’t helpful or useful. He abandoned his six year old daughter for she showed no extraordinary skills in any branch of life. He then started his work to make his abstract beliefs concrete. Thus, Pharis Clam Powderay was brought to existence. It was the child of Dr. Shu’s hard work. It cost him many days and nights.
If any human inhales, ingests, or comes in physical contact with Pharis Clam Powderay, he will perish right that instance. His body will disintegrate into little particles of dust. The particles of dust will be highly efficient, for they’ll be used as fertilizers for agriculture. So, at least after death that person will be useful.
Shu opened his eyes. “Bella” he chuckled. “You willingly walked towards your own death.”
Before Bella had time to decipher what her father meant, she entered a state of darkness. Her pulse stopped. Bella Hofstader was dead.
As Bella’s slim body disintegrated into thin particles of dust, Luc walked in, wearing a hazmat suit, holding Pharis Clam Powederay.
“When should I expect my money?” asked Luc with lack of enthusiasm.
Shu took out a thick envelope from his breast pocket. “Here’s the full amount, give the other boy his share. I always knew Bella would be a threat to my dreams. Should’ve killed her when she was in her equally useless mother’s womb.”
Luc was not interested in anything Shu had to say anymore, for he had gotten his money, and Luc loved nothing more than money. He had made this deal with the governors of the Parliament House and Shu Ketter, for four million euros. Every government official was aware of the threat Bella imposed to the Pharis Mission, so getting rid of her was vital. The whole kidnapping of Shu was set up, in an attempt to lure Bella into saving her father, and eventually walking into a trap which resulted in her death. The plan was executed to perfection. Bella was dead. Pharis Clam Powederay was the future. Luc and Franz were no longer useless, so they’d be saved from the fate of Bella.
Luc exited the cell. He handed Franz his share of money.
“Well, friendship with Bella proved to be an important one.” said Franz, without any hint of remorse, as he breathed in the scent of new, crisp banknotes.
Dreams for the average person last around twenty to thirty minutes. Considering what people have told me about their dreams and my own experiences…dreams don’t have to time to be rational or sensible. One minute you’re trying to escape killer robots ,the next you’re in a gang and time slows down during shootouts ,and on really special days there will be insects that resemble the combination of a cricket cockroach and grasshopper if they were all ten times larger.
However ,there are times when our minds are at ease.band in this case ,dreams don’t occur. Last nights was one of those nights ,where I dreamt about nothing. I don’t see it as a bad thing ,it’s incredibly relaxing despite the fact that there’s nothing there to relax me. There’s no scented candles ,there’s no shimmering raindrops or shining stars ,there’s no flowing rivers by the bank ,and there’s no cascading waves along the ocean. The Sun and Moon have both gone to sleep and all of space and time has spiralled in on itself until it’s as far away from me as needed. And no matter how much I can try and move closer towards it ,it’s futile.Now that everything and everyone is gone ,what about me? The answers quite simple , I’ll just relax.
After all the stress of having to deal with your school or job ,trying so hard day in and day out ,everyone deserves a bit of respite from their real lives ,and what better respite than the void?
Last night was one of those nights , where I dreamt about nothing simply because I didn’t want to dream about anything.
Last night, I had one of the most strangest dreams. I dreamt of another universe. Its name? I had no clue. The reason I was there in the first place? I can not recall either. All I was certain of is that I was definitely not in the place I called my home. I was somewhere far away, somewhere unknown.
The area I was located in was undoubtedly beautiful. A bright pink sky with absolutely no sighting of any moon or sun. Blue grass under my feet that prickled me the more I walked forward, and overall a very calm and relaxing atmosphere. I do not remember much of the dream, it’s all like a blur to me, but what I do clearly remember is being in awe of the scenery surrounding me.
Not long after, I was stopped in my tracks by what I believed to be a rose bush. Taking my time to inspect from far away, I soon made up my mind to jog towards it and take a closer look. It’s not everyday you find yourself in an unknown location with a mysterious wild rose bush appearing in front of you.
As I stood in front of the bush, I could clearly view the remarkable appearance of the roses that were not visible from afar. A rich crimson colour coating the smooth petals making it look quite delicate, along with a strong fragrance that lingered around. It’s hard for me to pinpoint exactly what it was, but it smelled sweet-scented and heavenly.
The only thing stopping me from reaching my hand out and plucking one of the roses was the sharp thorns protruding out in uneven angles, but curiosity took over me and I couldn’t stop my shaky hand from extending itself towards it.
Slowly, and carefully, my hand made its way out to the fresh deep red rose, but as soon as my fingers made contact, everything went black and I had woken from my dream.