Why Top Marketers Are 397% More Successful With Ben Sailer

Why Top Marketers Are 397% More Successful With Ben Sailer What separates the best managed and most successful marketing teams from the rest? How are they leaving you in the dust? What are the strongest predictors for success? Today, my guest is Ben Sailer, content marketing lead at . We talk about our 2019 State of Marketing Strategy Report. surveyed more than 3,000 marketers to find out what they’re doing to be successful. Inception and process behind State of Marketing Strategy Report Why do original research? Why put in so much time, effort, and energy? Generate your own data, instead of borrowing statistics How do you stack up? Sense of doing ok, but room for improvement to crush it 5 Marketing Insights about Top Marketers: Being Organized: They’re confident about their organizational skills; 397%   more likely to report being successful Setting Goals: They know which goals drive success; 376% more likely to report being successful Documenting Strategy: It needs to be nimble and actionable, not detailed and lengthy; 313% more likely to report being successful Planning Projects: Be clear about what needs to be done, by who, and why; 356% more likely to report being successful Using Agile Methodology: Marketers implement it to manage projects and processes; 252% more likely to report being successful Links: 2019 State of Marketing Strategy Report AMP 127: The Case For Agile Marketing: What 400+ Marketers Reveal As Top Benefits And Barriers With Andrea Fryrear From AgileSherpas If you liked today’s show, please subscribe on iTunes to The Actionable Content Marketing Podcast! The podcast is also available on SoundCloud, Stitcher, and Google Play. Quotes: â€Å"If you actually have your own original insight, that’s a lot more powerful.† â€Å"The insights we were able to extract from our datawere really corroborated. Some assumptions we hadwere a little bit more surprising.† â€Å"If you are a marketer who is cognizant of goals, you’re thoughtful about setting them, and if you work in that sort of mode, it makes sense that you’re also organized.† â€Å"If a goal is your destination, your documented strategy in whatever shape or form that takes is your roadmap to get there.†

Blood Brothers Theatre Review Essay Example for Free

Blood Brothers Theatre Review Essay We visited the Phoenix Theatre on the fourth of October and when we the play started I was drawn to the actual setting of the stage; firstly contrast in the set and how it represented the two side’s class divide. Mrs Johnstone’s huge family all cramped up in the small, crumbling, graffiti covered terraced council housing with the rest of the workers and Mrs Lyon’s large elegant suburban detached house with is wrought iron street lamp and large windows and also with the interior of the houses only the kitchen of Mrs Johnstone’s house is shown overflowing with cooking utensils and laundry and other domestic trivialities but not a chair in sight which means Mrs Johnstone is always either shown standing up or sitting on the step whereas Mrs Lyons living room is shown with its tasteful decorating, art deco lamps, corner pillars and a large sofa in the middle where she is often shown sitting on offering another contrast between her and Mrs Johnstone. Another feature of the setting I particularly enjoyed was the raked stage which allowed better levels for the actors the stage is heavily raked, meaning that a lot of the action is easy to see from all over the house. The set is simple and remains stationary, creating a focused performance space and emphasised certain scenes like when Mrs Lyons suggested Mrs Johnstone give her one of the twins she upstaged Mrs Johnstone who had to turn to respond and also allows for multiple scenes such as when Mrs Lyons revealed Eddie and Linda’s ‘affair’ she turned Micky to face upstage where Eddie and Linda are walking together, which emphasises the cross cutting of that scene and another feature of the raked stage is that it simply allowed a better view of the Performance for the audience. The Play began with a frozen image of the dead twins seen through a red gauze curtain and the narrator gives the lines he is to repeat at the end This use of Dramatic Irony means you sympathise more with the characters knowing the fate that awaits them and it is also a very dramatic way to begin the show immediately drawing you in making ask questions which of course are answered throughout the duration of the play. The dramatic irony also makes you play closer attention to the play as you are compelled to see how the situation could have been avoided and it is shown through foreshadowing that all that would happen was set in stone from when a seven year old micky pretended to shoot a seven year old Eddie to when a seventeen year old Sammy pulled a knife out on the bus. These glimpses into their future might have been missed if you weren’t completely Hooked on the play and so the use of framing and dramatic irony means you were absorbed in the play completely. The costume in the play is a strong representation of the social status of the characters and so everything about Eddie and Mickey’s clothes represents key parts of their life and how they have added to their character as their costumes are a large representative of the whole nature versus nurture theme of the play. Eddie as a seven year old wears very neatly pressed v neck sweater over an immaculately white shirt and short trousers whereas mickey was wearing a jumper so ragged and dirty its quite hard to determine what colour it is, it’s full of holes and stretches to well over his knees indicating it is most likely a hand me down. The contrast in the childhood upbringing of the two characters is apparent in their clothing, the closest Eddie has ever come to second hand clothes is when he meets mickey on the other hand mickey has probably grown up with his siblings old clothes and toys et cetera. The adolescent Mickey wears fashionable denim and leather. Which shows him at what was the peak of his life, the happiest his is to be in the play. The adolescent Eddie wears a very smart school uniform The adult Mickey again wears a baggy jumper. However this is when he is dominated by medicine. His clothing also illustrates the loss of that huge childhood energy he had at the beginning of the play. It is hard to determine what purpose the narrator serves. On stage he appears dressed in a smart black suit –reminiscent of funeral garb so sort of fore shadowing but the costume his gives him a neutral status, as we cannot identify anything about his character. It gives him a sense of anonymity throughout the show, and the fact that the other characters do not acknowledge him gives him a ghostlike quality except when he takes a picture of. His main role throughout the show is to act as a constant reminder to us of the Brothers’ tragic fate – exemplified in the musical number ‘Shoes upon the Table’, which is repeated Throughout both acts of the show. It is also notable that as the show commences with the scene of The finale, his attire is like that of somebody who is attending a funeral – and it seems that he is dressed for such an occasion throughout the entire play. The characters seem to look through him or just avoid him until Linda asks h im to take their photograph and it seems as soon as she does this their lives begin to go wrong, coincidence or were their lives touched by evil The use of sound is possibly the most powerful dramatic medium used in the play; the songs are extremely well written fit immaculately with the themes of the play and the lyrics and melody are re used throughout the play. Music was used to draw emotion from the audience. It also helped to move along the action and always conveyed a theme, message or feeling. Echo was also used in parts of songs. However it was recorded and therefore gave a very surreal and artificial effect. The music and lighting combined at the beginning of the play to create both a DRAMATIC EFFECT and a SAD ATMOSPHERE which worked very well to draw you in. The use of the orchestra collaborated well with the songs. The gunshot at the end of the play worked well as it shocked the audience despite them knowing the ending. There was a great contrast in lighting between the countryside and the city. In the countryside it was bright and the scenery consisted of typical green rolling hills and a crystal blue sky. However in the city the lighting was much darker and the scenery consisted buildings. When the front door of Mrs Johnstone house opened light flooded on to the stage. The purpose of this was to generate the idea of presence of Mrs Johnstone and her children living inside the house. The stage was lit up with a red light at the beginning of the end. This was used as an indicator of the bloodshed to follow. A red light also appeared when Mrs Lyons came on to the stage. This illustrated her madness and guilt stricken conscious. This was also done by the use of blackouts. A blue light appeared at the end when the narrator came on to the stage and sang. To illustrate the madness of Mrs Lyons in song flashing lights came on. This made the audience feel uneasy and uncomfortable with the character of Mrs Lyons. Blood Brothers Theatre Review. (2016, Dec 24).

The slave trade in Latin America. Profit and human misery Research Paper

The slave trade in Latin America. Profit and human misery - Research Paper Example As early as the 15th century the Spanish were gaining a stranglehold on Mexico and the various tribal lands of Latin America. A series of conquistadors, essentially privateers, more adventurers than soldiers, struck out on their own to secure the spoils and riches of the new lands. Up to the 16th century activities in this part of world were predominantly exploratory treasure hunts. Standing in their way, however, were the multitude of sedentary and fierce nomadic indigenous tribes which had to be overcome if the land was to be subjugated. By 1502 the first shipload of Africans had been landed in Hispanola. By the time of the full conquest of Mexico in the 1520 and Peru in the 1530s, all the elements of the colonial system of Latin America were falling into place. In Mexico, farming and mining were underway. In Brazil, under the Portuguese, the initial period of some coexistence through bartering and trade with the Indians was morphing into formal Spanish and Portuguese royal control .1 Along with it came the beginnings of a plantation economy. On the main land, as in the Caribbean, indigenous resistance and subsequent depopulation was spreading throughout Latin America, and by 1570 war and disease had taken its toll. Traditional sources of free labor diminished, and within thirty years of the Spanish landing tribes had been decimated. Along with depopulation and the emerging economy came the recognition that a large labor force would be needed to work the mines, ranches and sugar plantations cropping up like seedlings throughout Latin America.... rld, the need for slaves expanded, prompting the Portuguese traders to explore new markets for their â€Å"product.† Within thirty years of Columbus’s discovery, the Portuguese, beginning in Brazil, tapped into the growing market and before long were supplying an unending cache of slave workers for a burgeoning sugar industry. Assessing the northeastern coast of Brazil as particularly adopted to sugar growth, they began importing thousands of African slaves to that area, each of which was â€Å"not a mere captive but a commodity†¦ an investment†¦[that]†¦ impelled a vast expansion of the American sugar dominions. 2—an expansion that would eventually evolve as a lucrative commercial enterprise over the next three centuries via numerous other European slave traders. Estimates say that â€Å"By 1700 nearly three-quarters of the population of the British West Indies was African.† 3 Many countries including the French, Dutch and British eventuall y became prominent in the slave trade. The details of the actual practice seem today stunningly inhumane. And least it be forgotten, the truth remains that â€Å"The slave trade [its practices] was so awful in itself that one is apt to forget that it was merely a means to an end.† 4 That end was profit. Life on the Slave Ship Numerous accounts exist of the misery, suffering and dehumanizing environment of the slave ship that defy all modern sense of morality â€Å"as a brutally efficient piece of technology and site of struggle.† 5 All of the Europeans—Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch, British, French and Italians--freighted ships laden with barter to trade with Africans for African slaves. To those slave traders 16th through the 18th century, practices that would now be condemned universally as nothing short of â€Å"deliberately concealed

Analyze the influences of internal politics in desired career path in Essay

Analyze the influences of internal politics in desired career path in criminal justice - Essay Example The only possible report to gather from jail, courtrooms and detectives will come from males. This will make the crime investigation findings biased. Second, the sheriff’s office does not have a crime scene department or even a trained person in the crime scene. This will affect the investigations since there is no one to combine forces with in the investigations. According to Braswell, 2008, since there is no crime scene unit, the findings from the investigations might look irrelevant to the office because even after the findings, there is no department that will seem interested with the findings. As an investigator, it is good to attend crime scene education training in order to work efficiently (Braswell, 2008). In the sheriff’s office, there is no one who attends continuing education training on crime scene investigation. This will affect the investigations since there will be no morale from coworkers to enhance crime scene investigation. Finally, for crime scene in vestigation to be successful there must be modern equipments to support the investigation (Braswell, 2008). In the sheriff’s office, there are no modern equipments supporting these investigations. This will influence the effectiveness of the investigations carried

The Haunting of Mind :: The Haunting of Mind Essays

The Haunting of Mind The ghosts made their presence known at 9:36 p.m. the first evening. Later in life, when Rachel Fleischman thought back on the events at the house, she marveled that the exact time was so firmly set in her mind. She wasn't wearing a watch, and didn't recall asking anyone else the time. She remembered, almost as if the presences told her, wanting her to remember for their sake, and for the sake of posterity. The four of them sat around the table in the kitchen of the haunted house. Rachel sat in her own chair while Julie sat in Mark's lap. Brandon remained standing, leaning against an empty chair from behind. Mark's diary was open on the table and reached around Julie's body to record his first entry. He read aloud as he wrote. "Evening One: We have experienced no unusual events so far. Paranormal residents have not attempted to make contact. Morale is still high. Maybe our luck will increase later this evening." Brandon smiled at him. "We have almost three hours 'till midnight. Something might happen yet." Julie's arm was wrapped behind Mark's neck and her hand played distractedly with his dark, curly hair. "Happen? Like what? You really think dishes will start flying around and the furniture will rearrange itself? Come on." Brandon shrugged. His brown eyes were noncommittal. "I'm not saying anything, just that we shouldn't jump to conclusions." He began drumming his fingers on the back of the chair. "I hate feeling . . . anxious like this, like I'm waiting to see what I got for Christmas." Rachel nodded. "Or waiting to see what grades you received in Chemistry." Julie groaned. "Please don't mention homework." Rachel and the others laughed. Mark's eyes glinted. "Why don't we give the ghosts a call?" He looked at the others with a mischievous grin. Julie rolled her eyes. She immediately took her hand away from Mark's hair and got up off the chair. She turned to face Mark with both hands on her hips. "You brought a Ouija board, didn't you? Even after Mr. Olson told you not to bring it?" Mark simply laughed. "Are you ever going to grow up?" Julie asked, almost pleading. "It's all psychosomatic garbage. It's not real. You're just letting your unconscious do everything." "I doubt you've ever tried it, so how would you know?" Mark countered.

Succubus Blues CHAPTER 18

Around ten the next morning, the phone jolted me out of a dream I'd been having about jellyfish and mint chocolate chip ice cream. Rolling over, I picked it up, discovering in the process that I ached a lot less than I had last night. Immortal healing in action. â€Å"Hello?† â€Å"Hey, it's Seth.† Seth! Yesterday's events rushed back to me. The birthday party. The ice cream. The perfume. I again wondered who he'd had to meet after dropping me off at the bookstore. â€Å"Hi,† I gushed, sitting up. â€Å"How are you?† â€Å"Not bad. I'm, uh, over at Emerald City, and I didn't see you†¦ they said it's your day off.† â€Å"Yeah, I'll be back tomorrow.† â€Å"Okay. So, um, do you want to maybe do something today? Lunch? Or a movie maybe? Unless you have other plans†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"No†¦ not exactly†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I bit my lip, silencing the immediate acceptance that wanted to spring forth. I still had that strange, inexplicable attraction and sense of comfortable familiarity with Seth. I would have liked to hang out with him more, but I had already tried walking the line of friendship and dating with Roman, only to have that blow up in my face. It would be far better never to get started with Seth, despite my longings. Besides, I hadn't forgotten about my angelic bodyguard; I didn't really want him tagging along. Best to keep Carter indoors as long as possible. â€Å"But I'm sick.† â€Å"Really? I'm sorry.† â€Å"Yeah, you know†¦ just that kind of run-down feeling.† It wasn't entirely a lie. â€Å"I don't really feel up to getting out today.† â€Å"Oh. Okay. Do you need anything? Do you want me to bring you any food maybe?† â€Å"No†¦ no,† I hastily assured him, banishing images of Seth feeding me chicken soup while I lounged around in cute pajamas. Christ. This was going to be harder than I thought. â€Å"I don't want you to have to keep taking care of me. Thanks, though.† â€Å"I don't mind. I mean, no problem.† â€Å"I should be in tomorrow, if this doesn't get worse†¦ so I'll see you then. Maybe we can have coffee. Or rather, I'll have coffee and you can†¦ not have coffee.† â€Å"Okay. I'd like that. Not having coffee, I mean. Would you mind†¦ that is, can I check on you later? Call you again?† â€Å"Sure.† The phone was safe enough. â€Å"Okay. If you need anything before then†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I know how to reach you.† We said our goodbyes and disconnected, and I clambered out of bed to see what mischief Carter had managed this morning. I found the angel sitting on a stool by my kitchen counter, feeding Aubrey sausage with one hand while he held some sort of breakfast sandwich in the other. An enormous McDonald's bag sat on the counter near him. â€Å"I made breakfast,† he told me, eyes on Aubrey. â€Å"Don't give her that,† I chastised. â€Å"It's bad for her.† â€Å"Cats don't eat kernels of dry food in the wilderness.† â€Å"Aubrey couldn't survive in the wilderness.† I scratched her head, but she was more interested in licking the grease off her chops. Opening the bag, I found a variety of sandwiches and hash brown patties. â€Å"I didn't know what you'd want,† Carter explained as I pulled out a Bacon, Egg, & Cheese Biscuit. I bit into it, melting at that scrumptiousness, grateful weight gain and cholesterol were nonevents for me. â€Å"Hey, wait. Did you actually go to McDonald's?† â€Å"Yup.† I swallowed the food. â€Å"You just left? Just now?† â€Å"Yup.† â€Å"What kind of bodyguard are you? What if the nephilim came back and attacked me?† He eyed me and shrugged. â€Å"You look okay to me.† â€Å"You're not very good at this.† â€Å"Who was on the phone?† â€Å"Seth.† â€Å"The author?† â€Å"Yeah. Wanted to hang out today. I told him I was sick.† â€Å"Poor guy. You're breaking his heart.† â€Å"Better that than something else.† I finished the sandwich and went for a second one. Aubrey watched me hopefully. â€Å"So what are we doing today?† â€Å"Nothing. At least, I'm not going out, if that's what you mean.† â€Å"You aren't going to attract nephilim attention that way.† He glanced around my apartment and grimaced when I didn't respond. â€Å"It's going to be a long day then. I hope you at least have cable.† We spent the rest of the morning more or less staying out of each other's way. I let him use my laptop, and he got caught up in surfing eBay. What he could be looking for, I had no idea. As for me, I stayed in my pajamas after all, tossing a robe over them and deeming that good enough. I attempted to call Roman once, knowing I'd need to face him eventually, but I only managed to leave a voice mail message. I hung up with a sigh, opting to curl up on the couch with a book Seth had recommended in one of his e-mails. Just as I was starting to think I'd recovered from the dense breakfast and needed lunch, Carter suddenly peered over the top of the laptop, like a hound sniffing the wind. â€Å"I have to go,† he told me abruptly, standing up. â€Å"What? What do you mean?† † Nephilim signature.† I bolted upright from my lounging position. â€Å"What? Where?† â€Å"Not here.† With that, he blinked out of sight. I sat there, looking around uneasily. Whereas earlier I'd felt stifled by his presence, his sudden disappearance became a gaping hole in my environment. I was exposed. Vulnerable. When he didn't return in a few minutes, I tried unsuccessfully to pay attention to my book, finally giving up after I'd reread the same sentence five times. Still wanting lunch, I called and ordered a pizza, making sure I included enough for Carter. Doing this wasn't the best of ideas on my part since it meant opening the door eventually. When I did, I expected no less than an army of nephilim outside. Instead, I only found a bored-looking pizza guy, demanding $15.07. I munched on the pizza and tried to watch television with little luck. Turning to the laptop, I checked my e-mail and found that Seth had sent me a funny letter, much more eloquent than our earlier conversation, per usual. It only provided temporary distraction, and I was on the verge of breaking out the paint-by-number kit when Carter blinked back into my living room. â€Å"What the hell was that? Where have you been?† The angel regarded me with a calm, wry smile. â€Å"Easy there, haven't you ever heard of respecting boundaries in a relationship? It was in that book you were so quick to discard.† â€Å"Cut it out. You can't just say ‘ nephilim signature' and then disappear like that.† â€Å"I can actually. I have to.† He found the cold pizza on my counter and bit into a piece. Swallowing, he continued, â€Å"This nephilim's got a real twisted sense of humor. Every once in a while, it likes to unmask†¦ flash us, so to speak. This time it came from West Seattle.† â€Å"You can detect that from this far away?† â€Å"Jerome and I can. We never catch the creep, but we have to check it out anyway. Leads us on a merry chase.† The implications seemed obvious to me. â€Å"So you leave me? What if it's a setup? What if it flashes you over there and then zaps back to me while all the attention's away?† â€Å"It can't just ‘zap' around. Nephilim don't move like higher immortals do; they're constrained by the same limitations as you, fortunately. This one would have to get in a car and drive back over here, just like everyone else, which would hardly be a speedy process. You're protected by miles of traffic congestion.† â€Å"Weird.† â€Å"Like we said, they're unpredictable. They like breaking rules, shaking up the status quo just to see what we'll do.† â€Å"Weird,† I repeated. â€Å"Does it even know you're there? That it's making you drop everything and come?† â€Å"If the nephilim's close enough, it'd be able to sense the teleporting but nothing else past that. As long as we're masked, our identities, strength, and whatever stay hidden. So, if it is lurking, it knows two higher immortals came to check it out, but not much more than that.† â€Å"And it just watches and waits,† I concluded. â€Å"Kind of twisted. Lord, these things are a pain in the ass.† â€Å"Tell me about it. They ‘do not go gently into that good night.' â€Å" I blinked at the poetic reference. â€Å"Wait†¦ that's what's going to happen? You're going to kill†¦ er, destroy it or something?† Carter cocked his head toward me curiously. â€Å"What'd you think would happen? Ten years and parole?† â€Å"I†¦ don't know. I just figured†¦ wow. I don't know. Are you into that? The whole smiting thing? I mean, I suppose you guys vanquish evil on a regular basis, huh?† â€Å"We smite, as you so cutely term it, when we have to. Demons tend to be more into it than we are. In fact, Nanette even offered to come up and take care of this nephilim,† he recalled, referring to Portland's archdemoness. â€Å"But I told Jerome I'd help.† â€Å"Wouldn't Jerome want to do it himself?† â€Å"Do you refuse backup when it's offered?† he asked me, answering my question with a question which, really, was no answer at all. Thinking about it, he laughed softly. â€Å"Of course, I forget, Georgina rushes in where angels fear to tread.† â€Å"Yeah, yeah, I know how that quote really goes.† I stood up and stretched. â€Å"Well, if the excitement's over, I think I'll take a bath.† â€Å"Wow. The harsh lifestyle of a succubus. I wish I had your job.† â€Å"Hey, our side's always recruiting. You might need to be a little prettier to be an incubus, though. And a little more charming.† â€Å"Untrue. Mortal women go for jerks. I see it all the time.† â€Å"Touche.† I left him and took my bath, afterward finally giving up my pajamas for jeans and a T-shirt. I returned to the living room, turned on the television, and found The African-Queen just starting. Carter closed the laptop and watched with me. I'd always liked Katharine Hepburn but couldn't help marvel at what a dull day this was turning out to be. Avoiding going outside wouldn't do me any good in the long term since I'd have to drag Carter around with me tomorrow anyway when I went to work. My self-imposed enclosure today only prolonged the inevitable. In light of this, I considered breaking the cabin fever by seeing if he wanted to go to dinner after the movie. He shot up before I could speak, once more sensing a nephilim signature. â€Å"Twice in one day?† â€Å"It happens.† â€Å"Where now?† â€Å"Lynn wood.† â€Å"This guy gets around.† But I was speaking to empty air; Carter had disappeared. Sighing, I turned back to the movie, feeling a little more at ease after the angel's last explanation. The nephilim was in Lynnwood, trying to be a nuisance to Jerome and Carter. Commuting time was rapidly approaching, and Lynnwood was no small jump away. No nephilim would beat the angel back. As Carter had pointed out, I was safe for the time being. I had no need to panic. Yet, I nearly jumped out of my skin anyway when I heard the phone ring a few minutes later. Nervously, I picked up the receiver, imagining a nephilim blasting out of it. â€Å"Hello?† â€Å"Hey. It's me again.† â€Å"Seth. Hi.† â€Å"Hope I'm not bothering you. I just wanted to see how you are†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Better,† I told him sincerely. â€Å"I liked your e-mail.† â€Å"Did you? Cool.† Our normal silence fell. â€Å"So†¦ did you get a lot of writing done today?† â€Å"I did actually. About ten pages. That never sounds like a lot, but – â€Å" A knock sounded at the door, and a chill ran down my spine. â€Å"Can-can you hang on?† â€Å"Sure.† Hesitantly, I prowled toward the door like a cat burglar, as though slow and drawn-out movements would actually do something against an insanely powerful supernatural being. Reaching the door, I carefully peered out the peephole. Roman. Exhaling with relief, I opened the door, resisting the urge to throw my arms around him. â€Å"Hi.† â€Å"Are you talking to me?† asked Seth through the phone. â€Å"Hi,† Roman told me, looking just as uncertain as I felt. â€Å"Can†¦ I come in?† † Er, no I'm not, I mean, yes you can, and yes I am talking to you now.† I stepped aside so Roman could enter. â€Å"Look Seth, can I, um, call you back? Or maybe†¦ I'll just see you tomorrow, okay?† â€Å"Uh, yeah. I guess. Everything okay?† â€Å"It's fine. Thanks for calling.† We hung up, and I gave Roman my full attention. â€Å"Seth Mortensen, famous author?† â€Å"I've been sick today,† I explained, using the same excuse I'd given Seth. â€Å"He just wanted to check on me.† â€Å"Terribly considerate of him.† Roman put his hands in his pockets and paced. â€Å"We're just friends.† â€Å"Of course you are. Because you don't date, right?† â€Å"Roman – † I cut off the onslaught that wanted to rush out, switching to safer territory. â€Å"Can I get you anything? Soda? Coffee?† â€Å"I can't stay. I was passing through and got your message. I just thought I'd†¦ I don't know what I was thinking. It was stupid.† He turned as if to leave, and I frantically reached out, grabbing his arm. â€Å"Wait. Don't. Please.† He turned to face me, looking down from his lofty height, the normally good-humored face grave today. Fighting my natural reaction at such proximity, I felt surprised when his expression softened, and he noted, mildly astonished, â€Å"You really aren't feeling well.† â€Å"W-what makes you say that?† I had shape-shifted my bruises away as Jerome had suggested and whatever smarting pain I felt was no longer visible. Gingerly, he reached out and stroked my cheek, fingers becoming bolder. â€Å"I don't know†¦ you're just†¦ kind of pale, I guess.† I started to point out I wasn't wearing makeup and then realized I wanted to appear sick. â€Å"Probably a cold.† He let his hand drop. â€Å"Is there anything I can do for you? I don't like†¦ seeing you like this†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Lord, how bad did I look? â€Å"I'm fine. I just need rest. Look, about the other night – â€Å" â€Å"I'm sorry,† he interrupted. â€Å"I shouldn't have pushed you – â€Å" I stared, amazed. â€Å"You didn't do anything. It was me. I was the nutjob. I'm the one who couldn't handle things.† â€Å"No, it was my fault. I knew how you felt about getting serious, and I still kissed you.† â€Å"I did as much kissing as you. That wasn't the problem. Me freaking out was the problem. I was drunk and stupid. I shouldn't have done that to you.† â€Å"It's no problem. Really. I'm just glad you're okay.† A faint smile glimmered on his handsome features, and I remembered Seth saying I was easy to forgive. â€Å"Look, since we both feel we're at fault, maybe we can make it up to each other. Go out sometime this week and – â€Å" â€Å"No.† The calm certainty in my voice startled both of us. â€Å"Georgina – â€Å" â€Å"No. Roman, we aren't going out anymore†¦ and I don't think we can really pull off friends either.† I swallowed. â€Å"It'd be better if we just make a clean break – â€Å" â€Å"Georgina,† he exclaimed, eyes widening. â€Å"You can't be serious. You and I – â€Å" â€Å"I know. I know. But I can't do this. Not now.† â€Å"You're breaking up with me.† â€Å"Well, we weren't ever really going out†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"What happened to you?† he demanded. â€Å"What happened to you at some point in your life that made you so terrified of getting close to another person? What makes you run like this? Who hurt you?† â€Å"Look, it's complicated. And it doesn't matter. That past is gone, remember? I just can't do this with you now, okay?† â€Å"Is there someone else? Doug? Or Seth?† â€Å"No! There's no one. I just can't be with you.† We went around and around, rephrasing the same points in different ways, our emotions growing and growing. It felt like forever, but really only a few minutes passed as he pressed and I refused. He never turned angry or pushy, but his dismay was clearly apparent, and I felt certain I'd cry as soon as he left. Finally, glancing at the time, he ran a hand ruefully through his dark hair, turquoise eyes luminous with regret. â€Å"I have to go. I want to talk to you more – â€Å" â€Å"No. I don't think we should. It's better. I've really liked being with you†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He laughed harshly, walking toward the door. â€Å"Don't say that. Don't sugar coat things.† â€Å"Roman†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I felt horrible. Anger and grief were written all over his face. â€Å"Please understand – â€Å" â€Å"See you around, Georgina. Or maybe not.† He had barely slammed the door when tears spilled down my cheeks. Going to my bedroom, I lay down on my bed, ready for a good cry that never came. No more tears issued forth, in spite of my mixed feelings of despair and relief. Part of me wanted to call Roman back right now, make him return to me; the other part coolly warned I now had clear reason to cut Seth off as soon as possible before things escalated. Good Lord, why did it seem I was always hurting people I cared about? What was it about me that made me repeat this cycle over and over? Roman's devastated face still hovered in my mind, but I took comfort in the fact that he hadn't been traumatized as much as Kyriakos. Not nearly as much. The discovery of my affair with Ariston had led to condemnation from both our families and an impending divorce coupled with the loss of my dowry. I think I might have been able to handle that scorn, even the hateful looks. What I could not handle was the way Kyriakos had been stripped of all life and caring. I almost wished he would turn angry and lash out at me, but there was nothing like that within him. Nothing at all. I had destroyed him. After several days of separation, I found him sitting on one of the rocky outcroppings overlooking the water. I tried to engage him in conversation a number of times, but he wasn't responding to any of it. He would only stare out at that expanse of blue, face dead and expressionless. I stood by him, my own emotions writhing inside me. I had reveled in being a forbidden object of desire with Ariston, but I also wanted to be one of love with Kyriakos. I couldn't have it both ways apparently. I reached out to wipe the tears from his cheeks, and he slapped my hand away. It was the closest he had ever come to hitting me. â€Å"Don't,† he warned, leaping up. â€Å"Don't ever touch me again. You sicken me.† I felt my own tears now, even if his anger meant he was still alive. â€Å"Please†¦ it was a mistake. I don't know what happened.† He laughed hollowly, a terrible, mirthless sound. â€Å"Don't you? You seemed to know perfectly well at the time. So did he.† â€Å"It was a mistake.† He turned his back to me and walked over to the edge of the cliff, staring out at the sea. He spread his arms out and tipped his head back, letting the wind blow over him. Gulls cried nearby. † Wh-what are you doing?† â€Å"I am flying,† he told me. â€Å"If I keep flying†¦ right over this edge, I will be happy again. Or better yet, I won't feel anything at all. I won't think about you anymore. I won't think about your face or your eyes or the way you smile or the way you smell. I won't love you anymore. I won't hurt anymore.† I approached him, half-afraid my presence would make him go over. â€Å"Stop it. You're scaring me. You don't mean any of this.† â€Å"Don't I?† He looked at me, and there was no more anger or cynicism. Only grief. Sorrow. Despair. Depression blacker than a moonless night. It was terrible and frightening. I wanted him to snap at me again, to yell at me. I would have even let him hit me, if only to see some sort of heat in him. There was none of that, though. Only darkness. He gave me a sad, bleak smile. The smile of one already dead. â€Å"I will never forgive you.† â€Å"Please†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"You were my life, Letha†¦ but no more. No more. I have no life now.† He walked away, and even as my heart broke, I exhaled in relief to see him moving away from the cliff. I wanted to run after him but gave him his space instead. Sitting down in his spot, I drew my knees up and buried my face in them, half wishing I was dead. â€Å"He'll come back here, you know,† a voice suddenly said behind me. â€Å"The pull is too strong. And next time, he may go over.† I jerked my head up, startled. I hadn't heard anyone approach. I didn't recognize the man who now stood there, odd in a town where everyone knew everyone else. He was slim and well-groomed, dressed in clothes more elegant than I usually saw around here. â€Å"Who are you?† â€Å"They call me Niphon,† he said with a small bow. â€Å"And you are Letha, Marthanes ‘ daughter, formerly wife of Kyriakos.† â€Å"I still am his wife.† â€Å"But not for long.† I turned my face away. â€Å"What do you want?† â€Å"I want to help you, Letha. I'd like to help you with this mess you've gotten yourself into.† â€Å"No one can help me. Not unless you can undo the past.† â€Å"No. No one can undo the past. I can make people forget it, though.† I slowly turned back to him, assessing his bright eyes and dapper manner. â€Å"Stop joking. I'm not in the mood.† â€Å"I assure you, I am most earnest.† Staring at him, I suddenly somehow knew he was telling the truth, as impossible as it was to believe. Later I would learn that Niphon was an imp, but at the time, I had only sensed that he had a strange air about him, the whispering of power that promised he really could do what he said. â€Å"How?† His eyes gleamed, not unlike Hugh's when he was on the edge of a major deal. â€Å"To erase the memory of what you've done is no small feat. It carries a price.† â€Å"Can you make me forget too?† â€Å"No. But I can make everyone else forget. Your family, your friends, the town. Him.† â€Å"I don't know†¦ I don't think I could go back to them then. Even if they didn't remember, I still would. I couldn't face Kyriakos like that. Unless†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I hesitated, wondering if it might not be better never to come in contact with them again. â€Å"Can you make them forget me altogether? Make it like I've never been born?† Niphondrew a sharp, excited breath. â€Å"Yes, oh yes. But a favor like that†¦ a favor like that carries an even higher price†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He'd explained it to me then, what I'd have to give in return to completely blot me from the minds of those I'd known. My soul was a given. I'd carry it as long as I walked the earth, but it would have a lease on it, so to speak. That was the standard price for any hellish deal. But hell wanted more of me: my eternal service in the corruption of souls. I would spend the rest of my days seducing men, fulfilling their fantasies for my own gain and for those whom I served. It was an ironic fate, considering what had brought me to this point. To aid me, I'd gain the ability to take any form I chose, as well as the power to enhance my own charm. And of course, I'd have eternal life. Immortality and invulnerability. For some, that might have been benefit alone. â€Å"You'd be good. One of the best. I can sense it within you.† Imps had the ability to look into a person's soul and nature. â€Å"Most people think desire is only in the body, but it's here too.† He touched my forehead. â€Å"And you would never die. You would stay young and beautiful forever, until the earth perishes.† â€Å"And after that?† He smiled. â€Å"That's a long way off, Letha, whereas your husband's life is at stake now.† That had been what sold me. The knowledge that I could save Kyriakos and give him a new life, a life free of me where he would have a chance to be happy once more. A life where I could slink away from my disgrace and maybe even be rightfully punished. My soul – which I barely understood anyway – seemed a small price. I'd agreed to the bargain, first shaking on it, then putting my mark on paperwork I couldn't read. Niphon left me, and I returned to town. It was eerily simple. When I returned, it was exactly as he had promised. The wish had already been carried out. No one knew me. Passing people – people I'd known my entire life – gave me the glances reserved for strangers. My own sisters walked by me without recognition. I wanted to find Kyriakos, to see if it was the same for him, but I couldn't muster the courage. I didn't want him to see my face, not ever again, even if he didn't recognize it. So I spent the day wandering, trying to accept the fact that I was gone to these people. It was harder than I thought it would be. And sadder. When nightfall came, I retreated again to the outskirts of town. I had nowhere to stay, after all. No family or friends. Instead, I sat in the dark, watching the moon and stars, wondering what I was supposed to do now. The answer came quickly. She rose almost from the ground, at first appearing as nothing more than a shadow, then gradually coalescing into the shape of a woman. The air vibrated with power around her, and suddenly I felt suffocated. I backed up, terror filling every part of me, my lungs unable to take in air. Wind rose from nowhere, whipping my hair and flattening the grass around me. Then, she stood before me, and the night was still again. Lilith. Queen of the Succubi. Lady of the Night. The First Woman. Fear like I had never known swept over me – and lust. I had never been attracted to a woman before, but Lilith has that effect on everyone. It is fixed in her being. No one can resist her. She wore a tall, slim shape that night, willowy and lovely. Her skin was the pale white of the aristocracy of that time – a white never achieved by those of us who worked outside regularly. Her hair was a raven's wing of black, falling in gleaming waves to her ankles. And her eyes†¦ well, let me just say there's a reason the old myths call succubi â€Å"flame-eyed.† Her eyes were beautiful and deadly, promising anything you could ever want or desire if only you would let her help you. I still can't remember what color they were, but I could not look away from them that night. â€Å"Letha,† she crooned, approaching me. The air shimmered around her, and I actually trembled now from my desire. I wanted to run but instead sank to my knees, both from respect and the inability to stand. She came to me and tipped my chin so that I had to look in those eyes again. Sharp, black nails dug painfully into my skin, and it felt wonderful. â€Å"You will be my own daughter now, spreading discord and passion for the rest of your days. You will be both punisher and tester, a creature of both dreams and nightmares. Mortals will do anything for you, just for a touch. You will be loved and desired until the earth is dust.† I whimpered at her proximity, and then she moved closer still, lifting me up so I stood before her. Those glorious lips came to mine, and that kiss shot orgasmic pleasure through my body. My cries were lost, smothered in that kiss. I closed my eyes, unable to look at her and unable to break away. I soaked into that ecstasy pulsing over and over in my body. And yet, as I let that bliss consume me, something else happened too. My mortality was being stripped away. It felt like disintegrating, like I had become ashes in the wind. I wondered if that was how death felt. Like you were nothing. Gone. Then, just as quickly, I was put back together, myself once more. But I could feel the power burning through me now, different from the life that filled humans. My immortality shone like a star in the night, cold and pure. No longer would old age threaten. No longer would sickness haunt me. No longer would my flesh be passionately driven by the knowledge that time was short, that I had to leave my mark on the world. That I had to pass on my blood. I opened my eyes, and the onslaught of pleasure disappeared. So did Lilith. I stood alone in the darkness, quivering with my newfound power. And with that power, I could feel something more: an itch in my flesh. An itch that told me my skin could become anything I wanted it to be with only a thought. I was reborn. I was empowered. And I was hungry†¦ â€Å"What's wrong?† Blinking back tears, I looked up at Carter. He stood in the doorway to my bedroom, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, face concerned. â€Å"Nothing,† I muttered, burying my face in my pillow. â€Å"No nephilim ?† â€Å"No nephilim.† An awkward pause followed. â€Å"Look†¦ are you sure you're okay? Because you don't look okay.† â€Å"I'm fine. Didn't you hear me?† He still wouldn't give up, though. â€Å"I know we're not that close, but if you need to talk – â€Å" â€Å"Like you'd understand,† I scoffed, venom in my voice. â€Å"You've never had a heart. You don't know what it's like, so don't even pretend like you do.† â€Å"Georgina.† â€Å"Go. Away. Please.† I turned back toward my pillow, waiting for another protest, but none came. When I dared a peek, the angel was gone.

Sports Heroes O.J. Simpson and Others Essay - 928 Words

The dictionary definition of a hero is someone who is admired of their achievements or their noble qualities. To me, the definition of a hero is someone who helps people and is caring. In this world there are so many people mistaken for heroes. One example of a â€Å"hero† is O.J. Simpson. O.J was best known for being the running back of the Buffalo Bills and was nicknamed â€Å"The Juice†. Although he was a Heisman Trophy winner he was also a major suspect of a murder case involving his wife and her new boyfriend. Even though all the evidence was there he was found innocent and never went to jail. OJ Simpson was an amazing football player, but he should be judged by everything he does not just his achievements. One person I think is a hero in all†¦show more content†¦Even when he was treated so badly he was always the kind person in the situation. One quote that always moves me is â€Å"An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity†. This quote shows everything that King fought for. April 4, 1968 was a powerful and sad day. As many of us know this heroes life was cut short after his most famous speech â€Å"I Have A Dream†. King was standing outside his hotel room and was murdered by a greedy man. This hero will always be remembered for his accomplishments and his determination to do the right thing. Abraham Lincoln is one of America’s most recognized heroes. Lincoln was the 16th president of the United States and helped end slavery. Lincoln was born on February 12, 1809 to two great parents who Lincoln admired. Lincoln grew up a worker and was always helping others. Lincoln was president during The Civil War. Lincoln wanted slavery to end. Luckily on January 1, 1863 Lincoln signed the proclamation for slaves to be set free and never be a slave again. Lincoln fits my definition of a hero because he ultimately wanted what was best for the American people. I think that Lincoln was so brave to be president during the Civil War and not being sucked into what was popular. Lincoln was known for making great quotes, one of my favorite quotes is â€Å"A house divided cannot stand†. I think this quote is soShow MoreRelatedAthletes: Above the Law1825 Words   |  8 PagesIt was called â€Å"Acceptance,† a story about a father whose alcoholism kills his son, an All-Am erican football star. A second chance is then offered in the form of two new sons, one homosexual and the other intellectually disabled. As far as the outcome, you would have to â€Å"†¦wait for the movie†. 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