http://www.spacify.com/display_buffet-226-225.html Spacify offers modern buffets and sideboards with free Shipping. Get contemporary style sideboards, and dining room buffets.
Duration : 0:0:31
Spacify offers modern buffets and sideboards with free Shipping. Get contemporary style sideboards, and dining room buffets.
Duration : 0:0:38
“Anna,” My mother said, “You got mud on your clothes again.”
Oh, great.
“Sorry.” I mumbled, examining my jean-clad knees, overlaid with a crust of dirt. Trying to avoid her eyes, her awful eyes.
“You always say sorry.” She replied, almost coldly, but with a hint of venom. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
I didn’t say a word; just let the freezing pause hang disconcertingly between us.
She pinched my chin between her taut, pincer-like fingers. Her nails dug in slightly, each perfectly rounded and frilled with a smooth white outline. Each left my skin feeling tainted, foul. Like when you brush up against something disgusting. They drove my face up to meet her, and I had no choice but to look right into her eyes, cold and blue and as impenetrable as hell.
My throat locked as I met with them, and she spoke.
“Anna, honey.” The way she said the last word made my throat even tighter. “I’m just trying to get an answer out of you. You want to clear this right up, don’t you?”
Wordlessly, I nodded against her stiff grip, which she the relinquished. I sucked air in, despite the fact that her hold had been on my chin and not my neck.
“I’ll try to stop.” I told her, keeping my voice normal.
“Okay then. You can go to your room now.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Making sure my pace didn’t look or sound too fast, I left, closing the door of my room when I got to it.
My name is Anthea, not Anna, whatever my mother says.
My Dad named me, anyway, but he’s long gone, so the name just turned into another reason for my mother to hate me.
So, yeah, that was the normal kind of conversation I had with my mother when she got irritable. They didn’t get at me, though, I was fine. I was invincible. Completely fine.
…Oh God was I scared.
I slumped into the hard-backed rocking chair by the window, drifting back and forth slightly as I stared out. Normal, monochrome road of houses and a long, watery streak of apricot coloured sky. It wasn’t bad, not really. Except for the memories, I guess, snippets of all the times my mother has screeched at me as I leave for school, all the times I’ve had to walk home hoping she was in a content mood.
I stayed there for at least an hour, staring out of the window. Occasionally I would pick up my diary and jot a few thoughts down, but otherwise I just thought. It’s the only thing I’m really good at I guess. Thinking. Not academically or anything- I suck at most school lessons as well- but I can just escape in my own head for quite a while.
“Anna!” My mother’s voice rose up from below, and I marvelled at how every time I heard it my stomach would curdle sickeningly. Every time.
I hurried downstairs rapidly, not shouting back because I knew it would annoy her, and she’d just tell me to come down and get out of the terrible habit of not going to people to talk to them. By the time I’d tiptoed into the kitchen, she was already drumming her fingers impatiently on the immaculate, glossy brown dining table.
“Anna.” I immediately knew she was going to ask me to do something, just by the tone of her voice. “We’re out of washing up soap. Go get some from down the road.”
“Sure.” I scrounged some money out of the bowl of dull pennies on the sideboard, and, before she could tell me to do anything else, I was out of the house, onto the cracked pavement and walking.
It was good to get out, away from my mother and her eyes. Her eyes. I can’t tell you how deeply they chill me. It isn’t only the cold poison in them; it’s their… clearness maybe. Like water that I can see right into. Water I don’t want to see right into, because underneath all the stuff I tell myself, I know you shouldn’t see that stuff in your own mother’s eyes. I’m glad by own are dark blue, thick and foggy and impossible to read.
All my thinking came to an end, however, when a voice called after me.
“Hey, Anthea!”
Ooh, and guess my age, lol. I won’t be offended. 
Please and thank you! Sorry, I felt like a beetch when I realised I hadn’t said that.
Lol, it isn’t in America, it’s in Britain. We has pennies! And I’m weird and call it washing up soap. ^^’ Thanks for the crit though. 
Spelling mistake in the sentence- " I’m glad by own are dark blue, thick and foggy and impossible to read’. I suppose instead of "by" you meant "my"? And also, you sometimes repeat phrases which you already let the read know. For example, "Trying to avoid her eyes, her awful eyes." Instead you could have wrote " Trying to avoid her emotionless and cold eyes, which penetrated my so called "shield" and left me numb". Just a suggestion. I could also guess that the time is set more in the time where America was just being colonized, as you only had to grab pennies and walk a road to get "washing up soap".
Overall, it’s a great story.
Spacify offers modern buffets and sideboards with free Shipping. Get contemporary style sideboards, and dining room buffets.
Duration : 0:0:29
I am wondering, from a design standpoint, if there is a definite difference. I have two items in my home, one that I use in the kitchen, and one that I use in my dining room, and I call the one in my dining room a buffet, because the top folds out so that you can serve drinks and food off a larger surface. The one in the kitchen, I never know what to call it… but it has two small drawers in the top, and is enclosed on three sides, with open shelves in the front. So I just want to know what to call it, and if I am calling the other one by the right name… and essentially what the difference is between all of the names. Thanks!
A sideboard and a buffet are essentially the same. A credenza can also be a sideboard but some are not as tall as a sideboard. The one we have that was purchased from Ethan Allen is only about 29 inches high whereas our buffet (also from Ethan Allen) is about 36 inches high.
Spacify offers modern buffets and sideboards with free Shipping. Get contemporary style sideboards, and dining room buffets.
Duration : 0:0:38
Chapter One
It was a quiet day when the woman got the message.
Her eyes snapped open, but apart from that, she didn’t move. After a second, however, she sighed deeply, a smile playing across her lips while she studied her hands, laid out on the dark wood of the coffee table. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, the message still flooding through her from some unknown source.
“There are others.” She said to herself, and with that, picked up the phone.
-*-
“Anna,” My mother said, “You got mud on your clothes again.”
Oh, great.
“Sorry.” I mumbled, examining my jean-clad knees, overlaid with a crust of dirt. Trying to avoid her eyes. Her awful eyes.
“You always say sorry.” She replied, almost coldly, but with a hint of venom. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
I didn’t say a word; just let the freezing pause hang disconcertingly between us.
She pinched my chin between her taut, pincer-like fingers. Her nails dug in slightly, each perfectly rounded and frilled with a smooth white outline. Each left my skin feeling tainted, foul. Like when you brush up against something disgusting. They drove my face up to meet her, and I had no choice but to look right into her eyes, cold and blue and as impenetrable as hell.
My throat locked as I met with them, and she spoke.
“Anna, honey.” The way she said the last word made my throat even tighter. “I’m just trying to get an answer out of you. You want to clear this right up, don’t you?”
Wordlessly, I nodded against her stiff grip, which she the relinquished. I sucked air in, despite the fact that her hold had been on my chin and not my neck.
“I’ll try to stop.” I told her, keeping my voice normal.
“Okay then. You can go to your room now.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Making sure my pace didn’t look or sound too fast, I left, closing the door of my room when I got to it.
My name is Anthea, not Anna, whatever my mother says.
My Dad named me, anyway, but he’s long gone, so the name just turned into another reason for my mother to hate me.
So, yeah, that was the normal kind of conversation I had with my mother when she got irritable. They didn’t get at me, though, I was fine. I was invincible. Completely fine.
…Oh God was I scared.
I slumped into the hard-backed rocking chair by the window, drifting back and forth slightly as I stared out. Normal, monochrome road of houses and a long, watery streak of apricot coloured sky. It wasn’t bad, not really. Except for the memories, I guess, snippets of all the times my mother has screeched at me as I leave for school, all the times I’ve had to walk home hoping she was in a content mood.
I stayed there for at least an hour, staring out of the window. Occasionally I would pick up my diary and jot a few thoughts down, but otherwise I just thought. It’s the only thing I’m really good at I guess. Thinking. Not academically or anything- I suck at most school lessons as well- but I can just escape in my own head for quite a while.
“Anna!” My mother’s voice rose up from below, and I marvelled at how every time I heard it my stomach would curdle sickeningly. Every time.
I hurried downstairs rapidly, not shouting back because I knew it would annoy her, and she’d just tell me to come down and get out of the terrible habit of not going to people to talk to them. By the time I’d tiptoed into the kitchen, she was already drumming her fingers impatiently on the immaculate, glossy brown dining table.
“Anna.” I immediately knew she was going to ask me to do something, just by the tone of her voice. “We’re out of washing up soap. Go get some from down the road.”
“Sure.” I scrounged some money out of the bowl of dull pennies on the sideboard, and, before she could tell me to do anything else, I was out of the house, onto the cracked pavement and walking.
It was good to get out, away from my mother and her eyes. Her eyes. I can’t tell you how deeply they chill me. It isn’t only the cold poison in them; it’s their… clearness maybe. Like water that I can see right into. Water I don’t want to see right into, because underneath all the stuff I tell myself, I know you shouldn’t see that stuff in your own mother’s eyes. I’m glad by own are dark blue, thick and foggy and impossible to read.
All my thinking came to an end, however, when a voice called after me.
“Hey, Anthea!”
Um, the first bit with the woman makes sense later on, so don’t worry too much about that part. However, could you tell me how to improve this? I’m 14, but be as harsh as you can, I need to improve. >:D
I think you have a pretty good start.
It still needs some work.
I like the part where you quote your protagonist as feeling "invincible" ..then..
"Oh God was I scared."
That kind of dichotomy is good.
I think you need a better ‘hook’ to draw readers to your work.
The first sentence of a piece, or at least two, must be interesting, different = ‘edgy.’
Here are some very safe links to brief writer tutorials I think will help…
"Adverbs and Word Hierarchy" http://fav.me/d29j49d
"Writing Better Dialogue" http://fav.me/d215ibh
"The Story of Your Character" http://fav.me/d227kr2
"Talk Less, Say More" http://fav.me/d24w8w8
These are written in a personal, informal way, yet teach what writers need to know.
I’ve read them and enjoyed them very much. I hope you do too.
Edit: This is my "constructive criticism" -as asked.
I give critiques on the site below daily as a Critic for a literature club there. End Edit
You have a good idea.
Take it to its finest possibilities.
Have fun and good luck.
Chapter One
It was a quiet day when the woman got the message.
Her eyes snapped open, but apart from that, she didn’t move. After a second, however, she sighed deeply, a smile playing across her lips while she studied her hands, laid out on the dark wood of the coffee table. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, the message still flooding through her from some unknown source.
“There are others.” She said to herself, and with that, picked up the phone.
-*-
“Anna,” My mother said, “You got mud on your clothes again.”
Oh, great.
“Sorry.” I mumbled, examining my jean-clad knees, overlaid with a crust of dirt. Trying to avoid her eyes. Her awful eyes.
“You always say sorry.” She replied, almost coldly, but with a hint of venom. “How many times do I have to tell you?”
I didn’t say a word; just let the freezing pause hang disconcertingly between us.
She pinched my chin between her taut, pincer-like fingers. Her nails dug in slightly, each perfectly rounded and frilled with a smooth white outline. Each left my skin feeling tainted, foul. Like when you brush up against something disgusting. They drove my face up to meet her, and I had no choice but to look right into her eyes, cold and blue and as impenetrable as hell.
My throat locked as I met with them, and she spoke.
“Anna, honey.” The way she said the last word made my throat even tighter. “I’m just trying to get an answer out of you. You want to clear this right up, don’t you?”
Wordlessly, I nodded against her stiff grip, which she the relinquished. I sucked air in, despite the fact that her hold had been on my chin and not my neck.
“I’ll try to stop.” I told her, keeping my voice normal.
“Okay then. You can go to your room now.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Making sure my pace didn’t look or sound too fast, I left, closing the door of my room when I got to it.
My name is Anthea, not Anna, whatever my mother says.
My Dad named me, anyway, but he’s long gone, so the name just turned into another reason for my mother to hate me.
So, yeah, that was the normal kind of conversation I had with my mother when she got irritable. They didn’t get at me, though, I was fine. I was invincible. Completely fine.
…Oh God was I scared.
I slumped into the hard-backed rocking chair by the window, drifting back and forth slightly as I stared out. Normal, monochrome road of houses and a long, watery streak of apricot coloured sky. It wasn’t bad, not really. Except for the memories, I guess.
Well, how very emo of me.
I stayed there for at least an hour, staring out of the window. Occasionally I would pick up my diary and jot a few thoughts down, but otherwise I just thought. It’s the only thing I’m really good at I guess. Thinking. Not academically or anything- I suck at most school lessons as well- but I can just escape in my own head for quite a while.
“Anna!” My mother’s voice rose up from below, and I marvelled at how every time I heard it my stomach would curdle sickeningly. Every time.
I hurried downstairs rapidly, not shouting back because I knew it would annoy her, and she’d just tell me to come down and get out of the terrible habit of not going to people to talk to them. By the time I’d tiptoed into the kitchen, she was already drumming her fingers impatiently on the immaculate, glossy brown dining table.
“Anthea.” I immediately knew she was going to ask me to do something, just by the tone of her voice. “We’re out of soap. Go get some from down the road.”
“Sure.” I scrounged some money out of the bowl of dull pennies on the sideboard, and, before she could tell me to do anything else, I was out of the house, onto the cracked pavement and walking.
It was good to get out, away from my mother and her eyes. Her eyes. I can’t tell you how deeply they chill me. It isn’t only the cold poison in them; it’s their… clearness maybe. Like water that I can see right into. Water I don’t want to see right into, because underneath all the stuff I tell myself, I know you shouldn’t see that stuff in your own mother’s eyes.
“Hey there, Anthea.”
Chapter Two
I spun round, arms coming up automatically in defence, but they dropped instantly when I saw who it was.
Sooooo. What do you think? I’m 14, but be harsh as you can, I need to improve. xD
I do indent on word, but for some reason it doesn’t come up. Thanks for the proofreading tip, though.
I’m fifteen and I may not know much about writing, but it sound too confusing. Was the beginning like a preface? I was utterly confused when it changed but I don’t know the full story so I won’t judge on that too much. It’s good though and people do write like this. The "House of Night" books have the same kind of style and once you master how to be a little more organized, you’ll be great. But remember, I’m fifteen, so don’t take my advice as a guideline or anything. Ask your parents what they think or a teacher. I have my aunt editing it when I send it to her because she was an english teacher. Try to get as much criticism as you can and no matter how bad they are, learn from them and perfect it. But just one opinion is not enough. If more them, let’s say ten people, say the same thing needs to change, fix it.
Hope I was able to help. Good luck and good writing. =}
P.S. I’d love to read this in the future.
Spacify offers modern buffets and sideboards with free Shipping. Get contemporary style sideboards, and dining room buffets.
Duration : 0:0:36
http://www.Shorewood2C.com – If you are seeking a relaxing, tranquil vacation – this is your dream vacation getaway located in Sanibel Island, Florida. 12 miles long and 5 miles wide, it accessible from Fort Myers via the Sanibel Causeway, a 3 mile stretch which consists of three separate bridge spans and two man-made causeway islands located between the bridges.
Located on Sanibel Island, Florida This beautifully updated Gulf-view condominium unit offers all the splendor of beach front living with all the comforts of home. A small, quiet complex, it features tennis courts in the front, as well as an uncrowded swimming pool.
Of course, the crown jewel is the beach! Here in Sanibel, mother nature has created a masterpiece of soft white sand, soothing gulf breezes and abundant natural beauty. From relaxing, to walking, to fishing to shelling, the beach is top attraction here at Shorewood!
Located on the third level, this spacious three bedroom, two bath condominium sleeps 6 people comfortably.
The large granite topped kitchen provides everything you need if you don’t want to take advantage of the island’s wonderful restaurants – stove, oven, coffee maker, microwave, filtered water – it’s all here!
The combined living and dining room is anchored by the screened lanai, which overlooks the swimming pool and exquisite white sand beach of the Gulf of Mexico. It connects with an open balcony, directly off the master bedroom. There is no shortage of outdoor space for admiring this beautiful location.
Drift off to sleep in the spacious master bedroom, featuring a king sized bed and large bathroom, featuring a double his/ hers sink.
The furnishings throughout this home are very special: Many of the furniture pieces are made from retired Dhow sailing vessels from East Africa. All of the wood is at least 75 years old. Each piece is unique – they are handmade in Africa and all of the boats are used in some way. So, they are “green” as well as beautiful. Surely you will feel some of the character while you stay in this home. There is a piece above the pass-through to the kitchen that was carved from one piece of wood and is called “unity” – representing an entire village which is also from East Africa. On the sideboard is a picture on the sideboard of one of the Dhows.
Enjoy expansive Gulf views from the living and dining rooms, kitchen and master bedroom. Four televisions are available – two are High Definition with HBO.
Although the lure of the beach may want entice you to stay completely disconnected from work, for those who feel the need to be connected, wireless high speed internet access is available for your convenience.
Additionally, there are two twin beds in one bedroom, as well as a queen and twin bed in the second bedroom – with it’s own balcony.
For more information on this vacation rental, view a video on the island and it’s attractions, in addition to more photographs, visit www.Shorewood2C.com
Splash and swim in the sun drenched Gulf of Mexico. Gather shells along the beach. Go kayaking. All you have to do is unpack to take advantage of this island sanctuary!
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Duration : 0:2:31
