Monday, April 8, 2013

Two starts, one sentence.



“She stared at the turf, as if she would answer no more questions; begged him to go.” Why did he have to interrogate her like that in front of everyone else? She missed one shot. Sure she was captain, but couldn’t he just be glad they won?  Still, Greg’s sharp voice wove its way through her sweaty hair, into her cold ears to stab at her soul. Always critical, of her at least, this was the Greg she knew. How stupid she was to think a few drinks one night in August would change any of that. This was not drinks in August. It was a soccer game. Soccer. That’s all she ever was to him. All it ever will be.
She looked straight ahead and gave a slight nod, then turned towards the locker rooms, fighting to keep the frustration out of her step as he continued his tirade. They had won, and she was captain, and this was soccer. Game face. Get it back on, Kaylee, get it back on.
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“She stared at the turf, as if she would answer no more questions; begged him to go.” She no longer wanted to be there, on the edge of the grand lawn, with this ridiculous man. Sir Ellingsworth had graciously offered his arm for an afternoon stroll through the gardens and Waltstone Castle received so few visitors, she happily accepted the invitation. Conversation was pleasant enough as they wandered the roses and hedges, getting to know each other, as intimately as etiquette would allow for a first walk together. But when they arrived on the terrace over looking the polo field, he had the nerve to kiss her, on the lips, without warning! What an audacious young man!
It had been several long moments since, and he had done nothing but pepper the air with accusations. Hadn’t she enjoyed it? Wasn’t he handsome enough? Wasn’t his family well enough off? Hadn’t he made his intentions perfectly clear?
‘This is what I get, for complaining for lack of excitement around here, an overly excitable gentleman What luck for such a splendid afternoon’ she thought to herself.

For English 284, Exercise 1 

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