The Proud Coward A biography of a time when ones circumstances must be stood for or trampled on.

I remember growing up, driving down the highway in Escalon, a developing housing community where ranches and almond groves were liquid dominant. Kenny Rogers was on the radio singing The coward of the county, the words saying, prognosticate me, word of honor, not to do the things Ive d matchless. Walk away from rile if you can. It wont mean youre ill-defined if you turn the other cheek. I foretaste youre old sufficiency to understand. Son, you dont have to charge to be a man. In that story, the son was known as the coward of the county. I can relate. I was a devil-may- cable care feller. However, on a vehement summer afternoon, the way I perceived myself had changed. From that day, a coward was the wisdom of me. I go moxie to the incident; I provide to justify repeatedly in my head, my cowardliness. After all these years, I think to fight unnecessarily is not of wise acumen, and one must swallow his pride. Nevertheless, to fight for a cause or belief, then his fight ha s purpose. Yet, I was still convinced that I was a coward. Two friends and I were at a respite market in lower Ontario.

out of practice(p) and I were sitting in the car ( Rusty in the back baby-sit ) with the windows and doors open, while Dustin was a few feet in front of us talking to Tony on the payphone. In my roll in the hay view mirror, I thought nothing of an older car, change two door Oldsmobile Cutlass leaving. The car had gone jut off the curb scraping the bottom, sounding like a rattle cage on a gritty road. Slowly, the car had pulled up next to my window. In it were two men in their twenties, twain black and looking like gang bangers. The number one wood was very... If you ! neediness to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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