|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Octopus by Frank Norris:
him for good, at the very moment when he believed he had won her.
Brute, beast that he was, he had driven her away.
An hour went by; then two, then four, then six. Annixter still
sat in his place, groping and battling in a confusion of spirit,
the like of which he had never felt before. He did not know what
was the matter with him. He could not find his way out of the
dark and out of the turmoil that wheeled around him. He had had
no experience with women. There was no precedent to guide him.
How was he to get out of this? What was the clew that would set
everything straight again?
That he would give Hilma up, never once entered his head. Have
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield:
that blackness; it burned softly, as if for itself.
Fenella's father pushed on with quick, nervous strides. Beside him her
grandma bustled along in her crackling black ulster; they went so fast that
she had now and again to give an undignified little skip to keep up with
them. As well as her luggage strapped into a neat sausage, Fenella carried
clasped to her her grandma's umbrella, and the handle, which was a swan's
head, kept giving her shoulder a sharp little peck as if it too wanted her
to hurry...Men, their caps pulled down, their collars turned up, swung by;
a few women all muffled scurried along; and one tiny boy, only his little
black arms and legs showing out of a white woolly shawl, was jerked along
angrily between his father and mother; he looked like a baby fly that had
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Somebody's Little Girl by Martha Young:
to Sweet Fern Cave to-morrow.''
Or perhaps it was another child who said: ``Mama won't let me wade
in the branch.''
Or another child said: ``Mama says I can have a party for all the
little girls and boys on the mountain next Friday!''
Then another little child said: ``My Mama has made me a beautiful
pink dress, and I will wear that to your party.''
Mama? My Mama?
Bessie Bell leaned against the little fluted post of the gallery to
the cabin where she and Sister Helen Vincula lived, and thought a
great deal about that.