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Реферат на тему Condensation Trickled Essay Research Paper Condensation trickled

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Condensation Trickled Essay, Research Paper

Condensation trickled down the cold, unfeeling glass

? a window to the cruel heartless winter that raged, untamed, beyond the safe

confines of the classroom. Trees swayed as though losing the hopeless battle

against Mother Nature?s cruellest force ? the wind. Despite such hopelessness,

they fought on defiantly against the wind?s relentless battering. Somewhere in

that gloomy world a bell rang, disturbing the once silent battle for life in

the wilderness. Before leaving my contemplative fantasy, I turned and admired

the tall, dark trees. Somehow I envied them because, despite their endless

battle for life, their life, their purpose, was clear and simple with no

question whatsoever.I moved down the corridor only semi-aware of what

was going on around me. Some insignificant person tripped beside me and

clattered to the floor but I was almost oblivious to it, as though it was far

off in the distance, muted by my innermost musings. I was vaguely aware of the

fact that I had now left the building. A deathly-cold gust of wind almost swept

me off my feet as it hurried round the corner heartlessly intent on reaching

its destination despite numerous obstacles, of which I was one, blocking its

way. I awoke from my conscious dreams only momentarily before slipping back into

the zombie-like state of mind that harboured my conscious fantasies. As I began

my journey home I began to go through the possibilities of what awaited me. At

the back of my mind was the glaring fact of what I was to find upon returning

home but yet I still felt the need to weigh out the possibilities as though

recounting them would change the odds. However, none of this stopped the truth

scratching at the back of my mind eager to be let out into the open to devour

all hope that was scattered throughout my depressed brain. I wandered aimlessly

along the rain-rutted road intent on prolonging the journey and what awaited me

at my final destination. Scorched-black ravens circled above me straight out of

the depths of hell that was surely waiting around the next few corners ready to

drown me in its hopelessness and ultimate despair. The song of the ravens was

not of normal birds, that of happiness, which lifted one?s, heart, but a taunt,

daring me to flee my destiny and cower away from what I inevitably had to face.????????? As if in a final attempt at convincing

me that I should not go on, the heavens opened and emptied a gushing river onto

my tired, weary back. The torrent flowed over me, penetrating my clothes and

soaking me from head to toe with its disheartening liquid, overwhelming my

every sense as I trudged on for what seemed like an age. Somehow the powers

that be must have realized that I was not to be swayed in my purpose and gave

up with a last crow from the ravens up above in the darkened sky. As they flew

away to pester their next prey, a chill ran down my body and for the first time

in a long time I felt truly alone.????????? Finally, I reached my destination only

to find that, despite my fears being correct, it no longer seemed to be as

important and disheartening now that I had faced it. The fact that I no longer

had a home, nor anywhere to live, somehow lost the deep meaning that I pondered

not fifteen minutes ago. Maybe it was shock or maybe I was just more

thick-skinned than I led myself to believe. However, I had not yet seen my

former home and as I rounded the corner my jaw dropped to the floor as I stared

at what lay before me. Stagnant water covered everything within a radius of

fifty metres, coating everything it encountered with its vile essence. Waves of

hot putrid air rose from the cesspit that was my home and spiralled into the

air penetrating every living thing within its reaches. I tried to get nearer to

the building but it was a futile attempt. The filthy water was already way past

my ankles and the boots on my feet would not hold out in the depths that

surrounded the house like a moat as though protecting it from anyone who dared

approach it.????????? I turned my back on the horrible

sight; I could no longer stand to see what ruin my safe haven was now in. As I

trudged up the road, drowning in my own sense of despair, I thought of what I

owned in the house and what it had endured. Certainly, I would eventually have

my house back but it would be months before the building could recover and

return to full health. I spotted my parents among the small crowd that had

gathered to quietly watch the efforts of other people to cross the small lake

that blocked the road. We slumped into the car (the only thing that had

survived the ordeal intact and retrievable) in weary silence and slowly drove

to a nearby hotel in which we were doomed to live for the next week or so. The

routine of checking into the hotel would usually have been exciting to me

because I associated it with holidays. The rush of excitement over what the

room would be like and what channels the TV came with were unfortunately

lacking and my spirits failed to rise. Once again, I faltered on the edge of

the pit of despair and then fell headlong into it, striking my head on a

precipice and falling into a deep state of unconsciousness that failed to rid

me of my feeling of self-pity. ????????? I awoke to the eerie sounds of the

night and, as I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling unable to slip into

blissful sleep once again, I thought about what was to come and how my life

would proceed considering what had happened. Would it change a great deal or

would it return to normal once the procedures to repair the damage were

complete? Despite humouring myself by picturing what a newly remodelled house

would be like, I could not help feeling despondent at the long process of

rebuilding that lay in front of me. It would be many months before things would

return to normality and people coming and going throughout the day would

interrupt my once quiet life. The only thing that saved me from the dreaded

insomnia, which I suffered when anything abnormal occurred, was the thought

that despite the flood, my room, my safe haven from the perils of the outside

world, was sure to remain intact. As I remembered this my spirits rose dramatically

and I drifted off into reasonably untroubled sleep.(Number

of words: 1073)


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