Five more miles until I reach my dreadful destination, until
my week meets its unfortunate demise, until I am forced to be faced with the
weariness of Monday morning and the complications of the school week ahead of
me - three miles left, three more miles draining away from the gas tank, I’ll
have to pay the losses of course, I always do even though Norton is a small
town and you can get just about anywhere in under a gallon of gas; 16 miles to
the gallon, that’s how much this car gets, and yet the three miles it takes to
get to my house still costs me five dollars - one mile left, my night is
nearing its end, five minutes until I walk through my front door, the trees zip
by, they blend together in the blur of night, their branches stretch out to me
like finger tips – one more minute left, I can see my house as we near the
street corner, we take the sharp bend in the road with a roll and the cracking
sound is deafening; the windows burst outward; the doors snap and bend, the
metal crumbles under the pressure of the car's innards and our three mangled bodies; I guess accidents really do happen within five miles of the
home.
Colorado Rockies
Monday, April 6, 2015
Distillation
In the passage I read today, the author expressed his feelings towards scientific experiments and dissections. He says how these acts are inhumane and grotesque and do not actually help the students become productive members of society. He also says how these actions are for the feeble minded and that anyone could do it. The authors vocabulary and diction greatly reflects his feelings towards this by exaggerating the horrific details of the experiments and how we need to change these practices and stress more importance of the working class.
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