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Dylan Wheeler narrator, The Last Wish by Andre Switkowski. She moved toward him with a light swaying step, her sword glinting in her right hand. She leapt. The skirt fluttered in the air and veiled in its tracks. The sword flashed in a short, sparing cut Garrett jumped away, the cloth didn't even brush him and run freeze blade slid over his diagonal. Perry He attacked, instinctively spinning their blades, trying to knock her weapon aside. It was a mistake. She deflected his blade and slashed aiming for his face. He felt a twinge of pain, ignored it. He turned again, rent free, sprang away as if to strike from above as Garel lunged and swiftly slashed her exposed thigh and groin from below with the very tip of his sword, she didn't cry out falling to her side. She dropped her sword and clutched her thigh. Harold put up his sword. Robin by Dave Itzkoff. Just before the conclusion of the awakening shoot, Robin learned that his performance in Dead Poets Society had earned him another Academy Award nomination for Best Actor, the second of his career. He would again be facing formidable competition in his category. Up against Tom Cruise for born on four July Morgan Freeman for driving miss, Daisy Kenneth Branagh for Henry V five and Daniel Day Lewis from my left Foot. But the fact that he had been recognized once more was itself a significant achievement to him. A sign that the first nomination had not been a fluke that he was here to stay when he learned of the honor. He sounded his own barbaric yawp over the roofs of new york, stepping outside to shout a satisfied yes. Finality by Marcus martin. Something's up! She said, shaking her head. He looks exhausted constantly. It's not healthy. I've tried talking to him, but he's shutting me out. So I've made an appointment with the doctor said, val unscrewing a jar of tomatoes. Why? What do you mean? Why? My boy's been rattling around the house at all hours of the night. He's barely eating. He's picking fights with the sister. It's not right. You know the school called today? He didn't show up until lunchtime. You think you're saving something? Maybe something's upsetting him. That's for sure. So you want to medicate him? I want to help him. Didn't talk to him. You've seen me trying and he doesn't respond. It's time for a professional opinion. There must be something that can take the edge off until it all blows over. You mean until he accepts his choice. Dracula by Bram stoker. When I was in my room and about to lie down, I thought I heard a whispering at my door. I went to it softly and listened. I heard the voice of the count Back back to your own place. Your time is not yet. Come, wait our patients. Tonight is mine. Tomorrow night is yours. There was a low sweet ripple of laughter, and in a rage I threw open the door and saw without The three terrible women licking their lips as I appeared. They all joined in a horrible laugh and ran away. I came back to my room and threw myself on my knees. It is then so near the end. Tomorrow! Tomorrow, Lord help me! And those to whom I am dear. Free play by Stephen Nachmanoff, *****! The work of the improviser is therefore to stretch out. Those momentary flashes extend them until they emerge into the activity of daily life. We then begin to experience creativity and to the free play of improvisation, as one with our ordinary mind in our ordinary activity, the ideal which we can approach but never fully reach for we all get stuck from time to time is moment to moment, nonstop flow. This is what many of the spiritual traditions refer to when they speak of chopping wood, carrying water, bringing into the humdrum activities of daily life, the qualities of luminosity, depth and simplicity within complexity that we associate with inspired moments. We can then say with the balconies, we have no art. Everything we do is art. We can lead an active life in the world without being entangled in scripts or rigid expectations, doing without being too attached to the outcome because the doing is its own outcome.