Answer:
the door creaked and a rectangle of light fell onto the magazine that jim was reading.he looked up. I went into the lobby. I am nineteen,tall and thin.
"looking for someone?: he asked from me
"no" I said.my long fingers trambled as the fumbled with the buttons of my coat.
"well,may I help you with something?:
"no" I dropped my coat onto the worn tweed sofa and sat down slowly. in the light from the window my pale cheeks gleamed as if wet.
he is sick Jim thought going over him.a narrow hand reached out and seized my wrist,cold,strong fingers twining around my arm like vines or snakes.jim fought the impulse to pull away ,looking down instead into my troubled , gray eyes...
I think it is correct
can you give me a brainliest....
describe something in a artful way
poets don't do it to be confusing they do it to be fun and/or different
An oxymoron is the literary device used by Romeo in that passage.
To the causal eye, Green Valley, Nevada, a corporate master-planned community just south of Las Vegas, would appear to be a pleasant place to live. On a Sunday last April—a week before the riots in Los Angeles and related disturbances in Las Vegas—the golf carts were lined up three abreast at the up-scale ―Legacy‖ course; people in golf outfits on the clubhouse veranda were eating three-cheese omelets and strawberry waffles and looking out over the palm trees and fairways, talking business and reading Sunday newspapers. In nearby Parkside Village, one of Green Valley’s thirty-five developments, a few homeowners washed cars or boats or pulled up weeds in the sun. Cars wound slowly over clean broad streets, ferrying children to swimming pools and backyard barbeques and Cineplex matinees. At the Silver Springs tennis courts, a well-tanned teenage boy in tennis togs pummeled his sweating father. Two twelve-year-old daredevils on expensive mountain bikes, decked out in Chicago Bulls caps and matching tank tops, watched and ate chocolate candies.
David Guterson, ―No Place Like Home: On the Manicured Streets of a Master-Planned Community,‖ excerpt from Seeing and Writing 3
