A Special Day Tiptoes Away in Words
Without cake and wishes, I feel reborn of having refreshing mind in my room with George Orwell.
I am now analyzing George Orwell’s “Why I Write” in paragraph four. My mother comforted me a minute ago, “Having a birthday silently slipped through the time is not bad.”
I know they pitied my solitude when even my sister didn’t send me any words.
It’s my first time writing a literary critical essay, but I have so many thoughts on every sentence, and I no longer feel ashamed of the truth that I don’t have any friends.
I started memorizing productive words and felt appreciative of thinking of new ideas or comments. Orwell critiqued his first poem at 4 based on the standard of 1984. His collection of essays makes me feel reborn every day.
The maximum page is 20, I might take more time to delete the extra 15…
