What's on your CTRL+V?

[RiverWalker88]

cy-heading-3 mb-3

[LittleMissNyan]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVErYPCmmeA

[raytay]

okay a friend made me a stressball like this when I was in 6th grade and I was using it during math and THE LITTLE SUCKER EXPLODED IN A CLOUD OF FLOUR and it got all up in my uniform and all over the floor. and that is why that teacher and the janitor hate me

(pinterest thing popped up for how to make a stressball with a balloon and flour)

[LittleMissNyan]

also dear shatter-of-seas's brother what the peck

[HugoTroop]

года

[LittleMissNyan]

Narrative Writing Assignment for “The Most Dangerous Game”

Directions: Write a narrative (story), using 1 of the following prompts:

Rewrite a scene of “The Most Dangerous Game” from General Zaroff’s point of view. Be sure to write with attention to the author's established style and methods of characterization.


Very nice, Rainsford. Very nice.
Zaroff paused and took a deliberate drag on his cigarette. His prey was right there, caught in the boughs of this very tree, tense with apprehension. One shot, and it would all be over.
But that would take all the fun out of it, wouldn’t it? To end the hunt without contending against the skills Rainsford had become famous for? Zaroff blew out a ring of smoke, turned his back on his prey, and meandered back the way he came. He’d give Rainsford an hour.

The sun shone down on the overgrown wilderness of the island, throwing twigs and leaves into sharp relief. Each blade of grass, each patch of moss was a subtle arrow pointing the way to his quarry. Rainsford was good, he had to admit, but nothing escaped the general’s gaze.
A twig here, a leaf right there-
Zaroff sensed the danger almost as it happened, lept to the side, felt the jarring impact of the dead tree as it came crashing down on him. He staggered, his shoulder throbbing in pain.
But despite his body’s protests Zaroff felt no fear, only a warped sense of exhilaration. This was why he had taken up the hunt, wasn’t it? The challenge, the thrill. His reflexes were as sharp and keen as ever, taking only a superficial blow, though it would require dressing to proceed. He peered at the trap he had triggered, looked about and laughed.

"Rainsford, if you are within sound of my voice, as I suppose you are, let me congratulate you. Not many men know how to make a Malay mancatcher. Luckily for me I, too, have hunted in Malacca. You are proving interesting, Mr. Rainsford. I am going now to have my wound dressed; it's only a slight one. But I shall be back. I shall be back."

[Booknerd]

Narrative Writing Assignment for “The Most Dangerous Game”

Directions: Write a narrative (story), using 1 of the following prompts:

Rewrite a scene of “The Most Dangerous Game” from General Zaroff’s point of view. Be sure to write with attention to the author's established style and methods of characterization.

This is giving me flashbacks to when my language arts teacher gave us short stories to read and analyze for the whole year. Those were fun times. I remember reading this story. I miss reading short stories like we did that year.

[imaditi]

Berto y sus buenas ideas #1

[HugoTroop]

PT-200 - 114 mm M8 rocket x16

[Fyren]

Narrative Writing Assignment for “The Most Dangerous Game”

Directions: Write a narrative (story), using 1 of the following prompts:

Rewrite a scene of “The Most Dangerous Game” from General Zaroff’s point of view. Be sure to write with attention to the author's established style and methods of characterization.


Very nice, Rainsford. Very nice.
Zaroff paused and took a deliberate drag on his cigarette. His prey was right there, caught in the boughs of this very tree, tense with apprehension. One shot, and it would all be over.
But that would take all the fun out of it, wouldn’t it? To end the hunt without contending against the skills Rainsford had become famous for? Zaroff blew out a ring of smoke, turned his back on his prey, and meandered back the way he came. He’d give Rainsford an hour.

The sun shone down on the overgrown wilderness of the island, throwing twigs and leaves into sharp relief. Each blade of grass, each patch of moss was a subtle arrow pointing the way to his quarry. Rainsford was good, he had to admit, but nothing escaped the general’s gaze.
A twig here, a leaf right there-
Zaroff sensed the danger almost as it happened, lept to the side, felt the jarring impact of the dead tree as it came crashing down on him. He staggered, his shoulder throbbing in pain.
But despite his body’s protests Zaroff felt no fear, only a warped sense of exhilaration. This was why he had taken up the hunt, wasn’t it? The challenge, the thrill. His reflexes were as sharp and keen as ever, taking only a superficial blow, though it would require dressing to proceed. He peered at the trap he had triggered, looked about and laughed.

"Rainsford, if you are within sound of my voice, as I suppose you are, let me congratulate you. Not many men know how to make a Malay mancatcher. Luckily for me I, too, have hunted in Malacca. You are proving interesting, Mr. Rainsford. I am going now to have my wound dressed; it's only a slight one. But I shall be back. I shall be back."

I just read this short story for English...