Empty. Deserted. Burnt tress void of life, contorted animal bodies laying on the cracking earth their blood staining thick patches of dirt, horrifying. That realization of being truly alone scares me and I shiver, hard. I look around trying to see the details of the crushed room that stood strong enough to protect me.
I see men begging to have their feet removed, the flesh on their feet rotting away because of the chronic wet conditions in the trenches. I see the dozens of dead bodies of my fallen brethren accumulating in the trenches because it is too dangerous most times to give them a proper burial. I close my eyes today and still cannot escape the sounds of war–the constant gunfire, tank blasts, and the screams of men. I still see enemy soldiers overtaken by mustard gasses, blood streaming from their eyes and mouths and their desperate gasps for air. I remain inspired by my brothers, for we soldiers are able to keep our spirits high despite these conditions.
Boom! “ Men gather your weapons were under attack “ still half asleep I scurry across the room to get my boots on , still unstable I hit my toe against a nail but the excruciating pain had to be ignored as I only had 3-7 seconds to get out but on the plus side it got me wide awake. Prepped and ready I dash outside to fight for my country and my pride but it was quickly swallowed as I was intoxicated by the smell of the air, it had completely stifled my nose as it had a mixture of decaying flesh from comrades and other organisms; the smell of the latrines used for human waste well that’s all my nose could pick up and to make matters worse the rain for last night had saturated the soil and so the water in the trenches was at waist height making
Cursing under my breath and shaking my head I get ready to meet my fate. I bowed my head and prayed to God me and my brother would be alive and that we wouldn’t have to kill each other. But I fear, there is no God here just death. We draw our weapons and begin firing at once, the bullets hitting the body sounded like thunder and shattered their bones in a blink of an eye. Blood started flying everywhere, and the once green grass now became a pool of dark red blood at our feet.
The theme for “There Will Come Soft Rains” is, technological advancement does not always guarantee success, it can also bring lead to suffering and destruction. This is first made evident when the ash on the side of the house is being observed “there the silhouettes in paint as man mowing the lawn. here as in a photograph, a woman that went to pick flowers.”(88) This implies that a nuclear bomb went off wiping out the humans, leaving nothing but ash photographs. Another example of this stories theme is when the dog passes away, “The dog frothed at the mouth, lying at the door, sniffing, its eyes turned to fire, it ran wildly in circles, biting at it tails, spun in a frenzy, and died.”(89) the dog did not die when the bomb went off because he was inside the house, instead he got radiation poisoning, causing him to die a painful
And also can you even pictured of living in a neighborhood and you are found of owning any of these, and the next thing you know is that your home gets burned down and is going up in fiery red flames. 2. A life of not having any product of entertainment must symbolize that everyone is bored and empty in which there are no emotion at all. And imagine your home being turned into ashes and loosing everything does symbolize sadness and a strong feeling of hatred coming from those who cause it. 3.There are so many symbolic meaning such as being neutral, worried, scared, hated, depressed and so much
Hale. John Wright doesn’t seem to be a happy fellow. Not much is said about this character, however; an overwhelming feeling of hatred and meanness radiates from him. Its as if he stiffens the very air he stood in. this very discontent feeling would further add to the very isolation the Glaspell is trying to portray.
Living in a trench is something I will never forget. The barbed wire that surrounds the trench, the dead bodies lying everywhere, the rats, flies, lice, the dreadful smell that never seems to go away, the small rations of food that is provided and the scared looks on our fellow soldiers when a gunshot is fired. I will end now and pray that this is not the last letter I will ever send to you. I love you both with all my heart, Your son,
Third World Problems You can feel the warmth of the person’s body in front of you radiating off their back. The smell of sweat and fear overwhelms the disturbing smell of the hallway. The smell that has become so familiar of burning bodies has become unbearably barbaric in this moment. It’s dark and even with the hundreds of people surrounding you; you still manage to feel completely isolated. All that can be heard is the faint screams for help, and the pounding of your heart, hard like it’s trying to escape your chest.
Step by step, it was getting harder to breathe, almost to the point of suffocation. Despite the thin air, he kept walking and at what seemed like the end of the tunnel, he saw torches that have already been lighted. Matt followed it and it lead him to a big, dystopian, stranded cavern with Emma decapitated, blood staining the doctor’s sheet, surrounded by tools for dissection. His jaw drops and heart sinks as he keeps staring at it. Then dashed away to find a way out, in a dark and hopeless feeling after what he glanced at.