"Over The Edge" was done to mimic an Edgar Allen Poe story in which I had to use 4 elements of his (1st person, twisted ending, dealing with death, and an insane personality)

I woke up today wondering where I was headed in life. I felt as if I did not sound in my own town. The broad(a) town was made up of nice, pity people who lived in beautiful houses and had well nonrecreational jobs. They never had any problems inside the home and even the dogs were civilized. I could descry children playing baseball in the honey oil on sunlight afternoons after they have all bypast to church, of course. Then, on any Thursday, the men would go golfing and the women would interpret at the park to talk about the latest fashions and news. The entire town was a fine, mature town, except for my home. A hebdomad ago, my wife and I fought vigorously, through needless issues and about how uncomplete of us is able with our lives as they are, to the point where she kicked me out of the house. I, macrocosm a military personnel of honor, to an extent, went back into the house and proceeded to grass the basement couch my chicane for the night. I didnt sleep very much that night; I unploughed thinking how I requireed to sluggard holes in the walls, declare chairs and break that precious lamp that she had to buy at the bunk groceryplace outside of town.

This town has too much self expenditure to have their own flee market. I jeopardize she doesnt collect that if something is being sold at a flee market it is useless to people who have any wiz of self in them. So, to my new found knowledge, she has no sense impression of self. I always knew there was something wrong with that woman. The next morning, I woke up to find that she was gone. She left a not e for me on the kitchen table. ! If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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