My Alarming Dream " My Alarming Dream " My little of age(predicate) copper alarm clock rests on my desk tick - tocking outdoor(a) each inevitable second of the day, only to shake, rattle, and ring me to waken every morning. As I lay there in bed, half dead, sometimes wishing maybe that I was, achy and tired stretching and scratching like a jungle cat, I feel the morning crawl into my house.
The smell of wise(p) coffee creeps under my door my sisters radio blares the newest young sensation and drowns out the morning news light seeps in through cracks in my curtains and the cold of a winter wickedness forces me to burrow back under a warm charabanc of scratchy old quilts as I tell myself, " volt more minutes and Ill bum up." I contort myself into a comfortable knotty little ball under the toilsome coverings and bury my head into the broken-in old feather pillow distinct for warmth and what remains of my last dream. BRRRIIIIAAAAAANNNNGGGGG, ka-tank, tank, ka-tunk. My brain is electro...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com
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