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Joy’s homework for lesson 28. Thank you, Ms. Rachel!
A Case Narrative
On Sunday morning, 2 P.M sharp, a tax fraud case took place Inside a tribunal edifice.
As the nucleus of the court, I allotted everyone (the court reporter, clerk, bailiff, attorney, court interpreter, and jurors) to their positions. Although it seemed just like an ordinary culprit case, I was petrified to learn that the defendant turned out to be a famous singer. It was the first time in a century that a famous individual entered this court. Even though she appeared unsightly, frail and ponderous, while the case took place, her presence attracted many members of the public (including fans, people on their way to work, children, and vagrants) as they congregated around the court in order to catch a glimpse of her. In fact, the entire street was crowded with spectators.
Once everything was settled, the case (which stated that the stock and assets pertaining to the singer’s business were accused of defrauding) began. Initially, the singer’s evidence was inauspicious and meagre in order to win the case. However, after a few hours everything turned around as the singer’s lawyer joined in. He was a nice – looking man, with a solemn demeanour. Immediately, there was a noticeable change in the vibe and physiognomy of the singer. The singer and her lawyer were congenial. It seemed as though they were the same person, linked to one another. The singer’s lawyer, in addition to working for the defendant, lived in the vicinity of the singer’s house, which betokened that he knew the singer’s situation extremely well. The singer, with the assisting of her lawyer, condemned every sentence I said. As they kept going back and forth invariably, the case lasted up to several hours. Finally, after drawing inferences from established evidence and facts, an indubitable verdict was settled. The singer was cleared of any penalty and declared not guilty. The crowd roared with applause, serving as a token of pride and appreciation for the lawyer and the singer herself.
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Dear ______,
I apologize for not writing to you more frequently. Life has changed dramatically since I last wrote to you. Recently, I lost all of my money in a deal. I gave it my all and applied for every employment in town hoping for at least one company to accept me. On the contrary, I waited for days, months, and there was no response.
Apart from my liabilities (mostly debt) piling up, meeting my landlady has been a dreadful concern. She continues to pester, scowl and oblige me to pay my rent. Even though I am perfectly aware that I owe her months of rent, I continue to make up excuses and prevaricate when questions are asked. Deep down, I am aware this is an unseemly, horrible action. However, I continue to act this way, on one hand in order to prevent myself from becoming homeless and on the other hand, due to the constant reminder of the axiom “people cannot change”. As I bustle through the streets feeling overwrought, I try to avoid contact with other people as much as possible. A profound nightmare would occur every night. My unpaid rent. My debt. My far from refined clothes. Socialites dressing with fastidious care. My former landlady (extremely akin to my current landlady). The scaffold (I would imagine myself being found and killed). I would wake up screaming, and clutching my bed sheets bespattered with tears. This daily routine has been invariable and gradually, I have become accustomed to it.
Despite that, living in fear and bills piling up forced me to sink into deep depression. In fact, the depression worsened my hypochondriaI and I was on the verge to commit suicide. My mental pain continues and I do not have adequate money to hire a therapist. My issue may seem trivial, however, the suffering is immense.
I sincerely hope you can help me.
Love,
_______
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Joy’s homework for lesson 23. Thank you, Ms. Rachel!
Dear Miss.Taylor,
I hope everything is going well between you and Mr.Weston. Things have altered so much since your matrimony. Being an unconscious person, my surroundings have always been unperceived and just in the blink of an eye, you are gone. I am aware your house is within my daily reach, nevertheless, I feel utter disparity. I have to admit I am in a mournful disposition without you. It has been a while since solitude became my best friend and decreased my self – esteem. The prospect that father is still by my side is a blessing however, his constitution and valetudinarian habits promote an awkward silence and gaze once we look at each other. To make things worse, yesterday I lost my temper, through a piece of alloy on to the carrel and said something incredibly impolite which almost caused him a heart attack. For the first time, I saw how vexed he was. Thankfully, I managed to come up with a rational apology. The household feels peculiar without your intimate voice and indulgent amiable temper, especially while doing imposed domestic chores. My future here is indistinct and until I know what is happening next, I hope to hear from you soon.
Lots of love,
Emma
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Dear Diary,
Can you believe that the Dolores Umbridge in Harry Potter or Mrs. Trunchbull in Matilda has come to real life? School was a total nightmare. The whole class was based on principles not to mention the monotonous curriculum. Our teacher, Mr. Thomas Gradgrind, who appeared to have little acquaintance in teaching, kept underscoring that facts are essential. The first principle that we were forced to remember was that girls are required to curtsey in front of an adult. In addition, we were told that calculations and arithmetic problems will be given on a daily basis. Aside from the principles, the classroom was far from commodious even though there were paintings of vessels on the vault. On the gray speckled wall beside me, hanged thousands of nonsensical principles and facts which were designed to turn all the students into mechanical fact machines. There was a large pitcher sitting in front of Mr. Gradgrind’s muzzle as this specific tactic galvanized him to drink more water. The worst part of today was that I was humiliated in front of the whole class. When I said that my name is Sissy, Mr.Thomas Gradgrind’s face turned into a displeased toad as he smacked my forefinger and howled peremptorily “Sissy is not a name”, “Call yourself Cecilia”. I was startled and stood speechless… If this continues, my life would be an apocalypse.
Sissy
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With the wind blowing my calico dress, I gaze upon the divinely comely croft in rapt silence. The transient storm passed through rather quickly and the sky, surrounded by Fowl’s, is taking on a blue -green tint. The fluted wood treehouse held up by the bough of the flourish tree provides so much scope for the imagination. Across the field, a horse wagon laden with victuals sets off to take on an adventure. Not far from this valley, I hear the ripples of the glorious tributary. Leaning over to look at my reflection in the lake, I imagine myself in wonderland.
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