| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas: Then, to the sound of trumpets, the procession marched back
without any change in its order, except that Boxtel was now
dead, and that Cornelius and Rosa were walking triumphantly
side by side and hand in hand.
On their arriving at the Hotel de Ville, the Prince,
pointing with his finger to the purse with the hundred
thousand guilders, said to Cornelius, --
"It is difficult to say by whom this money is gained, by you
or by Rosa; for if you have found the black tulip, she has
nursed it and brought it into flower. It would therefore be
unjust to consider it as her dowry; it is the gift of the
The Black Tulip |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Wrong Box by Stevenson & Osbourne: of railway an engine snorted forth a whistle. The main-line
departure platform slumbered like the rest; the booking-hutches
closed; the backs of Mr Haggard's novels, with which upon a
weekday the bookstall shines emblazoned, discreetly hidden behind
dingy shutters; the rare officials, undisguisedly somnambulant;
and the customary loiterers, even to the middle-aged woman with
the ulster and the handbag, fled to more congenial scenes. As in
the inmost dells of some small tropic island the throbbing of the
ocean lingers, so here a faint pervading hum and trepidation told
in every corner of surrounding London.
At the hour already named, persons acquainted with John Dickson,
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Herbert West: Reanimator by H. P. Lovecraft: black form on the floor.
The match had been between Kid O’Brien
-- a lubberly and now quaking youth with a most un-Hibernian hooked
nose -- and Buck Robinson, "The Harlem Smoke." The negro had been
knocked out, and a moment’s examination shewed us that he would
permanently remain so. He was a loathsome, gorilla-like thing,
with abnormally long arms which I could not help calling fore
legs, and a face that conjured up thoughts of unspeakable Congo
secrets and tom-tom poundings under an eerie moon. The body must
have looked even worse in life -- but the world holds many ugly
things. Fear was upon the whole pitiful crowd, for they did not
Herbert West: Reanimator |
