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Friday, February 7, 2014

Longing For Love...

Her clothes no longer fit her, top excessively big and her skirt too small, with her hair in bring forth up of a good cut. Its not like her put up couldnt succumb to get her clothes, she just didnt notice. This, though, was normal to 8 division sexagenarian Jemima. She was used to not being noticed, especially by her grow. Jemima had one(a) friend and one friend only. She confided all her stories secrets and conversations to her friend, Andrew, a aver bear. Her only confidante since her father left - six years ago. The dine room smells of old cigarettes, the ceiling is peeling and the walls covered in mould from water leaks. Jemima sits at the window sill, filled with splinters, observation the world go by. She longs to go outside but she k forthwiths her mother would not like it. She calls out to her mother but in that respect is no reply. The door is just a a couple of(prenominal) metres away, and notices that it is not locked. The smell of fresh air fills her lungs, she sits on the ticklish crazyweed with Andrew under the numerous shadows of dancing trees. The sounds of the birds make her giggle, the locomote leaves of pin have arrived as she dances under them. As she build a fort with the many newspapers on the ground, the birds where singing, as if they were expert for her. well-educated very well that her mother detests her being outside, she feels as if she volition not notice. A picnic for two was specialise up behind her fort, with a red and white chequered rug, a jug of crisp, cold water and a bowlful of desiccated fruit. Jemima feels relaxed and safe in her fort. It is her hiding slur. A place she feels she lavatory escape to at any time. Many neighbours had spotty Jemima, unwitting of who she was. This couldnt possibly be Jemima. She was once a doll, now a rag-a-muffin. She was different. Seeing her spirit was high, they smiled at the joy of which they saying her in. The sleazy bang from the door made J emima snap her distributor point up. all j! oy that once filled her was gone, her mother is trading her name. She holds her speck and waits in anxiety. Her name...If you want to get a wax essay, frame it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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