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The Gift 100%

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2012/12/02/the-gift/

02/12/2012 www.pdf-archive.com

Frozen Sparks (1) 99%

I can show you happiness in a cupful of ground coffee beans, and in the sin my eyes commit every time I stare at your face.

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2014/06/26/frozen-sparks-1/

26/06/2014 www.pdf-archive.com

newsletter 14 06 01 97%

Stare Miasto 33 _____________ wystawa fotografii:

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2014/06/06/newsletter-14-06-01/

06/06/2014 www.pdf-archive.com

Todd Side 95%

              THE DIG    Written By  Tyler Green  Collin McCord                      7.EXT. TODD’S HOME ­ NIGHT  Cut back to present time. TODD is sitting on the front porch of  his home next to MAUREEN. She is on the phone and there is a  bag on her lap.  MAUREEN  (on the phone)  Okay. Okay, we’ll be waiting outside with the money.  MAUREEN hangs up the phone.  MAUREEN  (to TODD)  He’ll be here any minute.  TODD is staring ahead in shock.  TODD  (frightened)  You don’t have to give it to him. We can just take it  and leave.  MAUREEN  And go where?  TODD  It doesn’t matter! Somewhere they won’t find us.  MAUREEN  (looking at ED’s truck parked next to the home)  Todd, you left evidence everywhere. If they don’t  find us, the police will.  TODD  (frantically)  We’ll bring back the truck. It’ll be fine. We can  start a new life somewhere!  MAUREEN  1  There’s fingerprints all over his body! (Pauses)  Todd, it’s too late for running. I have to tell the  police.  TODD  (upset)  I’ll bury him! I’ll dig a hole deep enough and ­  MAUREEN  Todd…   TODD  (upset)  It’s not fair, he was a criminal!  TODD stares at his mother with defeat.  MAUREEN  (comfortingly)  It’ll be okay.  TODD  (apologetically)  I’m sorry.  MAUREEN  (sighing)  It’s not your fault.  A car pulls up in front of the home. TODD and his mother stare  at each other and then stand up and walk towards the car with  the bag.    2 

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2016/04/08/todd-side/

08/04/2016 www.pdf-archive.com

Closets are for Clothes.PDF 95%

Closets are for Clothes Fan fiction by Jenday Genres:

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2016/05/31/closets-are-for-clothes/

31/05/2016 www.pdf-archive.com

ilovepdf ppa, esl 2, sec term, 170617, 31pp 94%

second term Regular verbs II allow allowed allowed-permitir avoid avoided avoided-evitar annoy annoyed annoyed-molestar change changed changed-cambiar ** cheat cheated cheated-engañar, hacer trampa clean cleaned cleaned-limpiar hate hated hated-odiar ignore ignored ignored-ignorar ** kill killed killed-matar miss missed missed-echar de menos, perder need needed needed-necesitar notice noticed noticed-darse cuenta ** offer offered offered-ofrecer owe owed owed-deber (deuda) print printed printed-imprimir pull pulled pulled-tirar de algo ** punish punished punished-castigar relax relaxed relaxed-relajarse remember remembered remembered-recordar stare stared stared-mirar fijamente ** study studied studied-estudiar thank thanked thanked-dar las gracias wait waited waited-esperar walk walked walked-caminar ** warn warned warned-avisar, advertir work worked worked-trabajar

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2017/06/22/ilovepdf-ppa-esl-2-sec-term-170617-31pp/

22/06/2017 www.pdf-archive.com

genx 89%

Generation ?

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2011/08/18/genx/

18/08/2011 www.pdf-archive.com

Erasers Final Draft 87%

Cat continues to stare blankly.

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2017/03/31/erasers-final-draft/

31/03/2017 www.pdf-archive.com

res2015 87%

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2015/07/13/res2015/

13/07/2015 www.pdf-archive.com

httyd V2 86%

Most animals run away when you stare them down, but this one mirrored my stare until we both tired.

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2017/12/11/httyd-v2/

11/12/2017 www.pdf-archive.com

melnyk1 85%

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2013/08/25/melnyk1/

25/08/2013 www.pdf-archive.com

Blank Page 85%

Blank Page By Harrison Ward Harrison Ward, 2014 INT.

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2014/03/22/blank-page/

22/03/2014 www.pdf-archive.com

H2 84%

A beautiful ginger Quella sera di metà Giugno, Harry non riusciva a stare calmo.

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2013/12/25/h2/

25/12/2013 www.pdf-archive.com

harmonogram 83%

DYM AcZEWo STARE,NoWE, JEzloRY ZABINKo,KRAJKOWO, SoWl Nl Ec,sowl NK l BARANOWO,BARANÓWKO 18.

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2014/11/04/harmonogram/

04/11/2014 www.pdf-archive.com

Cyborg Legs 83%

CYBORG
LEGS
 
 DAY
1
 
 
 I
turn
the
switch
to
the
left.
This
makes
the
light
blink.

 
 
 
 A
man
sees
the
blinking
light
and
walks
towards
me.
He
sets
a
green
plastic
basket
 to
 my
 left.
 I
 turn
 the
 switch
 to
 the
 right.
 This
 makes
 the
 light
 stop
 blinking
 but
 remain
 illuminated.
 
 I
 stare
 inside
 the
 green
 plastic
 basket.
 It’s
 full
 of
 groceries.
 Pork
 chops,
 a
 bottle
 of
 wine,
a
box
of
tea,
some
apples,
some
brussel
spouts.
I
gaze
at
them.
Then
I
look
at
the
man
 who
brought
them
to
me,
a
tall
man,
about
mid
40’s,
wearing
a
grey
suit
that
is
one
size
too
 big
for
him.
This
man
is
my
first
customer
of
the
day.
 
 “Hello”,
I
say.
 
 “Hi”,
says
the
customer.
 
 “Am
I
on
the
wrong
side?”
 
 “No.
 You’re
 on
 the
 right
 side.
 You’ve
 done
 everything
 perfectly.
 I’m
 simply
 saying
 hello”.
 
 “OK”.
 
 I
 unload
 the
 customer’s
 basket,
 each
 item
 one
 by
 one,
 very
 slowly.
 After
 I
 unload
 everything.
I
begin
scanning
them,
one
by
one.

 
 As
I
scan,
I
ask,
“Did
you
find
everything
you
were
looking
for
today?”
 
 There
 is
 no
 reply.
 The
 customer
 is
 looking
 at
 his
 phone.
 
 I
 shrug
 and
 continue
 scanning
barcodes.
If
an
item
has
no
barcode,
there
is
nothing
to
scan.
If
you’ve
ever
seen
a
 cucumber
you
might’ve
noticed
that
it
has
no
bar
code.
So
for
these
particular
items,
I
enter
 in
 a
 five‐digit
 code.
 Each
 piece
 of
 produce
 is
 assigned
 a
 code.
 The
 code
 for
 cucumber
 is
 94062.
 
 After
scanning
each
item.
I
ask
the
customer,
“Would
you
like
a
bag?”
 
 The
customer
says
“yes”.
I
recommend
a
double
bag
to
him.
The
products
that
he’s
 purchasing
might
be
a
little
too
heavy
for
a
single
bag.
A
double
bag
will
provide
the
proper
 support
that
they
need.
A
single
bag,
in
my
opinion,
would
be
much
too
flimsy.
 
 After
 a
 short
 internal
 debate,
 the
 customer
 agrees
 to
 a
 double
 bag.
 I
 open
 one
 bag
 and
set
it
on
the
bagging
platform.
I
grab
a
second
bag.
I
put
my
arm
into
it,
until
my
fingers
 reach
the
bottom.
Then
I
insert
the
second
bag
into
the
first
bag.
Once
the
second
bag
is
at
 the
bottom
of
the
first
bag,
I
spread
out
my
hand
opening
the
second
up
inside
of
the
first
 bag.
This
is
the
most
efficient
way
to
construct
a
double
bag.

 
 After
I’ve
made
the
double
bag,
I
say
to
my
customer,
“OK.
It’ll
be
$42.86.”
 
 The
 customer
 slides
 a
 card
 down
 a
 card
 reading
 device.
 As
 he
 does
 this,
 I
 begin
 placing
his
items
into
the
double
bag.
I
begin
with
the
bottle
of
wine.

 
 “It
says
waiting
for
cashier”
says
the
customer.
He’s
telling
me
what
the
credit
card
 reader
is
telling
him.

 
 “Oh
sorry
about
that.
Here,
let
me
hit
a
little
button,
here.”
 
 I
hit
a
button
that
says,
“CREDIT/DEBIT”
on
my
touch
screen
register.

 
 “Is
it
working
now?”
I
ask.
 
 The
customer
says
nothing.
So
I
assume
everything
is
working
fine.
I
pack
all
of
his
 items
into
the
double
bag.
Heavy
stuff
on
the
bottom,
delicates
on
top.
I
place
the
double
bag
 on
 the
 counter.
 I
 see
 a
 receipt
 has
 printed,
 letting
 me
 know
 that
 the
 transaction
 is
 now
 complete.

I
hand
the
receipt
to
the
customer.

 
 “Have
a
great
day.”
I
say
to
him.
I
emphasize
the
word
“great.”
 The
customer
still
looking
at
his
phone,
grabs
the
double
bag
and
walks
away.
I
take
a
deep
 breath.
Then
slowly
exhale.

I
look
down
at
my
hands
and
watch
as
they
tremble
slightly.

 
 
 
 I
turn
the
switch
to
the
left.
This
makes
the
light
blink.
 
 
 I
 average
 41.2
 customers
 per
 hour,
 at
 14.12
 items
 scanned
 per
 minute.
 I
 do
 this
 work
for
two
hours.
Then
it’s
time
for
a
ten‐minute
break.
 
 
I
remove
my
apron
and
walk
outside,
where
I
drink
some
coffee,
smoke
a
cigarette
 and
 look
 at
 my
 phone.
 This
 break
 takes
 fifteen
 minutes.
 At
 the
 conclusion
 of
 this
 break,
 I
 quietly
 return
 to
 my
 register.
 I
 sign
 back
 in
 the
 register.
 I
 turn
 the
 switch
 to
 the
 left
 and
 cashier
 for
 the
 next
 two
 hours
 until
 my
 next
 break,
 which
 is
 a
 45
 minute
 unpaid
 lunch
 break.
 
 On
my
lunch
break,
I
clock
out.
Then
I
grab
my
backpack
and
leave
the
store.
I
walk
 two
blocks
to
this
micro‐park.
I
sit
on
the
ground
with
my
back
against
this
one
particular
 tree.
I
want
to
say
that
it’s
a
Birch
tree,
but
that’s
really
just
a
guess.
It
has
big
scars
all
over
 its
bark
where
some
limbs
must’ve
been
cut
off.
The
scars
look
like
carvings
of
eyes.
There
 are
over
twenty
eyes
on
my
favorite
tree.

 
 I
 smoke
 a
 cigarette
 and
 then
 I
 eat
 some
 pistachio
 nuts,
 salami,
 a
 little
 bread
 and
 a
 cookie.
 I
 write
 a
 quick
 forgettable
 poem
 about
 giving
 CPR
 to
 a
 zebra.
 I
 smoke
 another
 cigarette
 and
 stare
 at
 the
 blades
 of
 grass.
 I
 gather
 my
 belongings
 and
 walk
 back
 to
 the
 grocery
store.
My
40‐minute
lunch
is
about
55
minutes.
When
I
return
to
the
grocery
store,
I
 clock
in
and
go
back
to
my
register
.
I
turn
the
switch
to
the
left
and
cashier
for
two
hours.
 Then
 I
 take
 a
 fifteen‐minute‐ten‐minute
 break.
 Then
 I
 cashier
 for
 two
 more
 hours.
 I
 clock
 out
at
8pm.
 
 After
 clocking
 out,
 I
 buy
 a
 24
 oz
 can
 of
 Pabst
 Blue
 Ribbon.
 It
 costs
 $1.64
 after
 my
 discount.
I
also
grab
a
small
brown
bag
and
a
large
20
oz.
coffee
cup
with
a
lid.
I
leave
the
 grocery
 store
 and
 cross
 the
 street.
 
 Once
 I
 cross
 the
 street,
 I
 place
 the
 beer
 into
 the
 small
 brown
bag,
and
then
open
the
beer.

I
drink
as
I
walk
towards
the
train
station.
This
walk
 takes
15
minutes.
I
finish
the
beer
about
a
half
block
away
from
the
train
station.
Then
I
stop
 at
a
liquor
store
and
buy
another
24oz
beer.
I
step
off
of
the
main
street
and
drink
from
the
 new
beer.
Once
I
have
finished
4‐5
ounces
of
the
new
beer,
I
pour
the
remaining
beer
into
 the
coffee
cup
and
fasten
the
lid.
Then
I
walk
into
the
train
station
and
take
a
train
back
to
 my
apartment
in
Oakland,
where
I
drink
more
beer
and
order
Chinese
food.
 
 DAY
2
 
 
 My
 shift
 begins
 at
 7:30am
 today.
 
 I
 wake
 up
 at
 6:20am,
 shower
 and
 get
 dressed.
 I
 leave
the
house
at
6:40.
I
take
the
train
to
the
Powell
station
stop,
get
off
the
train
and
walk
 15
minutes
to
the
grocery
store.
I
arrive
at
work
at
7:36.
I
clock
in.

 
 I
put
on
my
apron
and
nametag
and
walk
to
the
customer
service
booth.
I
prepare
 the
 cashier
 department
 for
 opening.
 I
 put
 the
 trash,
 compost,
 and
 landfill
 bins
 in
 their
 proper
 place.
 I
 power
 on
 the
 monitors
 to
 every
 register,
 I
 set
 down
 plush
 mats
 by
 every
 register.
After
I
finish
these
tasks,
I
walk
over
to
my
supervisor,
Dianna.
Dianna
is
22
years
 old,
 studies
 marketing
 at
 San
 Francisco
 State,
 always
 has
 some
 purple
 in
 every
 outfit
 she
 wears
 and
 appears
 flustered
 at
 everything
 in
 the
 world
 that
 is
 not
 awesome.
 I
 tell
 Dianna
 that
I
need
to
use
the
restroom.

This
slightly
flusters
Dianna,
but
she
agrees.
I
walk
to
the
 bathroom
and
into
one
of
the
stalls.
I
sit
down
and
stare
at
my
phone
for
a
few
minutes.
 
 I
return
at
8:03
and
the
store
is
open.
I
walk
over
to
my
assigned
register,
turn
the
 switch
to
the
left
and
cashier
for
two
hours,
then
I
take
a
ten‐minute
break.
On
this
break,
I
 drink
some
coffee,
smoke
a
cigarette,
eat
some
yogurt
and
stare
at
my
phone.
The
addition
 of
 the
 yogurt
 adds
 about
 4
 minutes
 to
 my
 break.
 When
 I
 return
 to
 the
 sales
 floor,
 I
 say
 to
 Dianna,
“Sorry
I’m
a
little
late.
It’s
because
I
didn’t
come
back
in
time.”
This
is
my
attempt
at
 humor.
Diana
uses
her
eyes
to
transport
a
telepathic
message
that
says,
“I’m
pissed
off
that
 you
always
take
too
long
on
your
breaks.”
I
receive
this
message
and
return
to
my
register,
 where
I
turn
the
switch
to
the
left
and
cashier
for
the
next
two
hours.
 
 My
average
of
customers
per
hour
has
dropped
to
39.2.
 
 At
lunch,
I
clock
out,
grab
my
backpack,
and
walk
over
to
the
park
to
sit
by
my
tree.
 The
 sun
 is
 out
 and
 the
 tree
 has
 absorbed
 a
 lot
 of
 heat
 and
 it’s
 warm
 on
 my
 back.
 Sitting
 cross‐legged,
 I
 smoke
 a
 cigarette;
 eat
 a
 Cliff
 Bar
 and
 some
 potato
 chips.
 I
 take
 out
 my
 notebook.
A
brown
ladybug
crawls
on
my
left
hand.
I
watch
its
movements
for
a
little
while
 and
then
I
write
a
poem
called
Cyborg
Legs.
 
 
 
 
 Nobody
believes
me
 


 
 
 when
I
tell
them
 
 
 
 
 





 
 
 




actual

cyborg
legs.
 



 
 
 


a
shark
bit
 





 
 
 




off
my
legs
 
 
 
 when
I
was
in
the
ocean



(swimming)
 
 
 The
doctor
wanted
 



 
 
 
to
try
a
new
experiment,
 
 
 
 I
signed
the
waiver,
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
that
my
new
legs
 





 
 
 


did,
in
fact,
work,
 
 
 
 the
doctor
was
found
 








 
 
 









dead.
 
 
 
 beaten
to
a
pulp
with
what
seemed
 


 
 
 









like
a
sock(full)
 


 
 



of
doorknobs.
 
 
 
 His
body

was
found
in
 


 
 
 



a
trash
bin
next
to
a
Conoco.
 
 that
I
have
cyborg
legs.
 
 
 


and
there
you
go.
 After
the
confirmation


https://www.pdf-archive.com/2016/05/31/cyborg-legs/

31/05/2016 www.pdf-archive.com

1x01-Pilot 83%

TEASER  FADE IN:    EXT. METROPOLIS ­ SKYLINE ­ NIGHT.    OPEN on an eerily siren night, tall skyscrapers that once stood tall and stood within the dark sky now stands leaning and burning.      PAN through broken windows and crumbled half destroyed buildings.     Drift through a pillar of smoke and half destroyed rubble of once tall buildings.    RISES up to the half destroyed Daily Planet globe that now hangs only by a mere thread it seems.     It's a scene of chaos and destruction...no hope.     SIRENS and cries of pain and angst can finally cut through the night as life just suddenly breath into the city.    CUT TO:    EXT. METROPOLIS ­ CONTINUOUS.    We see the (backdrop of the) city sprawling out beyond the rooftops. Arm down, past down past a woman woman in black leather with  flowing almost whitish blond hair sprawled over her features, she doesn't look good hanging through a broken window. Lingers on her  twitching finger as half torn leather gloves loosen grip on a bo staff she was desperately clutching as her head drops almost lifeless...hair  falling to hide her features, down, into an alley where we pick up a BOY of about seventeen. He's running for his life.    We move with him through alleys, over fallen bodies and debris. He trips over a body.    CLOSE IN on his frightened and too wide brown eyes.     WIDENS to show his face, smeared with blood...dirty. Bruised. His lips split and bleeding.     PANS out to reveal he looks as if he just stepped out of a warzone with a tattered black tee shirt and the jeans of his left pant leg is  completely torn off. He's brunette, sad brown eyes, tall and lanky...awkward teenage phase with glasses...one lense pretty much cracked and  useless.    This is Nathan Michaels.    FRIGHTENING LOUD CRASH OVER HEAD.    ON Nathan as he pushes himself up with a pained ground, staring at the dead body he fell over and turns abruptly looking up.    TRAVELS WITH HIS LINE OF VISION:    An ARCH OF RED ENERGY THAT ONLY COULD BE DESCRIBED AS FOCUSED AND CONCENTRATED  HEAT SLAMMED  INTO A BUILDING SHATTERING THROUGH IT. THE BUILDING WENT UP IN AN EXPLOSION OF FIERY HEAT AND  FLAMES.    The force of it threw Nathan off his feet and rolling out of the alley sliding to a half with a painful outcry as he grabbed his side which was  bleeding and had an shard of debris embedded.     TIGHT ON HIS PAIN.    SLOW MOTION:    Flaming Debris ran down as large chunks of the building start to make their descent down onto the streets below. Nathan rolls and it futile as  its impossible for him to escape in time.    A RED STREAK WITH CRACKLING ELECTRICITY CUTS THROUGH THE STREETS AND NATHAN IS GONE WITHIN A  FLASH. FOLLOWS THE STREAK AS IT CUTS THROUGH THE STREETS.    CUT TO:    EXT. OUTSKIRTS OF METROPOLIS ­ CONTINUOUS.    On Nathan as he stumbles onto the highway and quickly turns around still holding his side disoriented and shaken.     ON the FLASH as he stand before him heroically and nods to him.     FLASH  Get to safety.     And with that he was gone in a flash of red streak.     Nathan could only stare...his eyes tight on the city as pillars of smoke and figures too far away could be seen flying down from the heavens it  seem onto the city. More red beams of energy striking out in all directions from a source soaring to fast to be seen seemingly combatting the  multiple forces raining down onto the city.    Tight on Nathan as he drops to his knees.    NATHAN  (brokenly)  This is all my fault...my fault.    ZOOM in slowly on his brown eyes as the reflection of the city can be seen burning in their reflection as we travel closer and closer forcing a     BLACK OUT:    PULL back from the darkness to find ourselves staring at a darkened window pane, the reflection of a sleeping form reflected within it's dark  surface.    INT. MICHAELS HOME ­ NATHAN'S BEDROOM ­ NIGHT.     TIGHT ON Nathan's features  as his eyes SNAP OPEN and he jolts upright in bed. Sweating and looking bewildered. He looks around his  dark room afraid...and on his fear we...    FADE OUT.    END OF TEASER.            Act 1    FADE IN:    EXT. SMALLVILLE CEMETERY ­ NIGHT.    TAGLINE: SMALLVLLE, KANSAS.    A gravestone.     Jonathan Kent.  May 22, 1965 ­ April 20, 2015.  "Beloved husband and loving father."    PULL BACK to reveal CLARK KENT. Baby face features, cute and adorable. Pain stricken and blue eyes red with contained tears. Flannel  and jean wearing with worn work boots. His hands clasped together before him. A kid who just lost his...everything. The sounds of  FALLING APART BY MATT NATHANSON ​ can be heard in the background.    For the longest moment Clark stands there silently and just staring at the tombstone. He closes his eyes a moment and lets out an audible  breath.    CLARK  (softly)  I won't let you down dad. (beat)   I will make you proud...I promise.    Close in on his determined features as he steps down on a knee and places a hand on the tombstone and hands his head. The silhouette of  Martha Kent watchng silently and solemnly from the old pick up in the background.    HOLD ON the sad and solemn moment as we drift upwards to the clear blue sky as we     FLASH OUT:    INTERCUT WITH:    MALE'S VOICE  Freeze! Freeze Police!  EXT. CITY STREETS ­ NIGHT.    END SONG.    TAGLINE: SUICIDE SLUMS.    Open on an puddle of water. Small droplets dribble down into it. Slowly the water start to ripple and finally a worn sneaker drops down into  it SPLASHING water into the lens.    PANS up to a fence, fingers coming into sight grabbing the edge as a man pulls himself up. He's brown skinned and handsome, tough yet  vulnerable looking. Close cut black hair and brown eyes. As he drops down into the puddle we sees he's in uniform.     This is Officer Pete Ross. Newest rookie cop to the force.     He takes off after the perk. A large white man with a balled head, muscular and looking like he could bench press Pete with his pickie.     Pete doesn't draw his gun, instead he only kicks it up a gear. Legs moving faster and panting as he jumped forward onto a dumpster and onto  the large's man's back. He wrapped his arm around his neck trying to put him in a choke hold.    Hands grabbed Pete's arm and tossed him over like he was nothing. He lands onto his back painfully hard letting out a groan his eyes  widening as he rolls out of the way barely missing being stomped.     He jumps up and sends out a killer front jab to the guy's nose which only cause his head to jerk back. The guy snarled as blood dribbled from  his nose and he wiped it away slowly turning his head to Pete.    PETE    (flatly)  Crap...    On another fence as there's a yell and Pete comes crashing through it. The man can be seen retreating as Pete lays there possibly seeing floaty  birds as he groans. He moved a hand to his head and drops his head back. Allowing his eyes to drift close as    DARKNESS overtakes the screen.    MALE'S VOICE  (V.O.)  This is why you don't leave your more experience partner behind rookie. (laughs)    Pete groans as he allows his eyes to open and standing above him is...    Jim Harper. Upper 20s, blue eyes and brown hair. Not to bad on the eyes and with an easy smile. He offers Pete an hand and pulls him up  patting him on the back. He grins after a moment inspecting his face.    JIM  Yeah that gonna leave a bruise, my friend.  (pause) Back to work. Bad guy to catch. (grins, and takes off)    Pete lets out a pained breath and bends over gripping his knees looking exhausted before shaking his head and then grabbing his flashlight  off the ground and taking off.    CUT TO:    EXT. CITY STREETS ­ NEXT MORNING.    A greyhound pulls up down the street of the bustling and busy street of Metropolis and comes to a halt before the front of the Daily Planet  which stands tall and proud as one of the tallest buildings within the city. Passengers start to pile out and among them is the out of place and  far from Clark Kent.     He steps through the thinning crowd and bumps and stumbles into the busy morning residents who gives him rude looks causing him to avert  his gaze. He averts his gaze and turns looking around looking a bit...lost and unsure is an understatement.    FEMALE VOICE  Watch it. Watch out. Out of the way. Oh god can you be any slow­    Clark turns toward the voice and is surprised as a woman with shoulder length brown almost black hair and blue eyes comes crashing into  him. She's sassy, interesting and very confident while clearly on the move. She looks over her shoulder and turns scowling toward Clark.    This is Lois Lane.    LOIS  ­Er...hello...farmer and the abercrombie model...i would so ask for the number   but i'm kinda am being hunted down by an pissed off client so...bye.    She snatches a pen from her jacket and grabs a startled Clark's hand and writes down her name and number.    LOIS 

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2015/04/21/1x01-pilot/

21/04/2015 www.pdf-archive.com

The miserable mill final 82%

Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire stare out the window of the train out onto the bleak landscape and sigh sadly.

https://www.pdf-archive.com/2015/10/13/the-miserable-mill-final/

13/10/2015 www.pdf-archive.com