I gazed out into the icy world, the ocean of ice I knew I needed to cross. I could see the last flickering light of civilization, the fires burning bright in the homes. I shivered, I needed to get there soon, or else I might just freeze to death. I still remember when the first snow came. me and my family, in California, thought it was a miracle, little did we know it was a curse. when the snow didn't let up, my father got out the generator. he huddled me and my mother in blankets, taking only one for himself. about a week later, I awoke to my father's cold hand on mine. his blood had frozen inside him. me and my mother cried ourselves to sleep that night. soon we were out of food. we needed to leave. we started to walk, taking all of our belongings with us. we joined a small group of people heading for the last of civilization. one by one, they all died, either frozen or picked off by the animals. eventually, I was the last one. on some days, I thought it would be better to just kneel over and die. but I made it. I'm alive, and soon I will be home.
All are okay
they are the same
Answer:
B. Eric's poems are an honor to receive, for he is a magnificent poet.
Explanation:
Uses the word "FOR" which is a coordinating conjunction. Hope this helps :)
