The Irony of Hope

The narrative below is an adaptation of The Sixth Voyage of Sindbad the Sailor (http://www.candlelightstories.com/2009/03/27/arabian-nights-the-sixth-voyage-of-sinbad-the-sailor/) about a girl who experiences a plane crash but the irony falls in her obsession with Sindbad and his voyages. Targeted audience are people who give deep and detailed feedback on the adaptation of the story. any questions will be responded to so please don't hesitate. This is for a high school english project and we will be assessed basically on your comments and our responses. Thank you.

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1. the irony of hope

Engrossed in the Arabian Night Tales in my hand, I almost forgot that I was currently thirty thousand feet above ground level. Pulling me out of my concentration I heard the captain announce  turbulence ahead and my heartbeat accelerated, fearful for what was to come.

                I was halfway through the sixth voyage when the Kindle suddenly flung out of my hand and a piercing pain cut through my belly. The seatbelt was cutting into me, screams filled the airplane and some metallic object hit my head rendering me unconscious.

                My eyes opened to passengers crying out for help, but as soon as I scanned our surroundings I knew that we were marooned on an island. The irony of this situation did not escape me for I had just been reading about the shipwreck in Sindbad’s sixth voyage. I had just gotten to the part where Sindbad was digging his grave when the crash happened. I sat on a rock nearby and wondered if I should start digging my grave just like my fictionalized idol.

                I followed what seemed like a trail on the ground while the rest of the survivors separated themselves looking for food. There was no sign of the plane. My patience wavered after six hours of pointless hiking, my stomach rumbled with hunger and my eyes drooped with exhaustion. The sun was now setting, stealing the light that led our way.

                Darkness fell dimming and I found myself pondering the events of the sixth voyage. I longed to read the rest of the story so I could find guidance in Sindbad’s character, his adventurous spirit was one that I strived to have. A loud howling drew me out of my thoughts only to see the distant flicker of light which took me by surprise.

                A new sense of hope overwhelmed me as I rushed towards the flicker of light in the far distance. Hours passed and my feet ached screaming for me to stop but I pushed on to reach my target. The light shone brighter as I got closer. Before I knew it, I had reached the cliff of the mountain where a city shone below blowing my mind away with astonishment. I made my way down to rescue shouting with joy and relief. I would ask for the people of this city to help me find the rest of the plane passengers who had survived and get us back to home so I can publish this ironic adventurous story. Maybe Sindbad had found his way just like I had.

Engrossed in the Arabian Night Tales in my hand, I almost forgot that I was currently thirty thousand feet above ground level. Pulling me out of my concentration I heard the captain announce  turbulence ahead and my heartbeat accelerated, fearful for what was to come.

                I was halfway through the sixth voyage when the Kindle suddenly flung out of my hand and a piercing pain cut through my belly. The seatbelt was cutting into me, screams filled the airplane and some metallic object hit my head rendering me unconscious.

                My eyes opened to passengers crying out for help, but as soon as I scanned our surroundings I knew that we were marooned on an island. The irony of this situation did not escape me for I had just been reading about the shipwreck in Sindbad’s sixth voyage. I had just gotten to the part where Sindbad was digging his grave when the crash happened. I sat on a rock nearby and wondered if I should start digging my grave just like my fictionalized idol.

                I followed what seemed like a trail on the ground while the rest of the survivors separated themselves looking for food. There was no sign of the plane. My patience wavered after six hours of pointless hiking, my stomach rumbled with hunger and my eyes drooped with exhaustion. The sun was now setting, stealing the light that led our way.

                Darkness fell dimming and I found myself pondering the events of the sixth voyage. I longed to read the rest of the story so I could find guidance in Sindbad’s character, his adventurous spirit was one that I strived to have. A loud howling drew me out of my thoughts only to see the distant flicker of light which took me by surprise.

                A new sense of hope overwhelmed me as I rushed towards the flicker of light in the far distance. Hours passed and my feet ached screaming for me to stop but I pushed on to reach my target. The light shone brighter as I got closer. Before I knew it, I had reached the cliff of the mountain where a city shone below blowing my mind away with astonishment. I made my way down to rescue shouting with joy and relief. I would ask for the people of this city to help me find the rest of the plane passengers who had survived and get us back to home so I can publish this ironic adventurous story. Maybe Sindbad had found his way just like I had.

 

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