| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Adventure by Jack London: from the tin a hundred rounds each for the two Winchesters and
fully as many rounds more of nondescript cartridges of all sorts
and makes and calibres.
The contraband and stolen property was piled in assorted heaps on
the back veranda of the bungalow. A few paces from the bottom of
the steps were grouped the forty-odd culprits, with behind them, in
solid array, the several hundred blacks of the plantation. At the
head of the steps Joan and Sheldon were seated, while on the steps
stood the gang-bosses. One by one the culprits were called up and
examined. Nothing definite could be extracted from them. They
lied transparently, but persistently, and when caught in one lie
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey: him a subtle influence which he could not define. Half unconsciously he tried
to analyze it, but it baffled him. He could no more explain what fascinated
him than he could understand what caused the melancholy quiet which hung over
the glades and hollows. He had pictured a real forest so differently from
this. Here was a long lane paved with springy moss and fenced by bright-green
sassafras; there a secluded dale, dotted with pale-blue blossoms, over which
the giant cottonwoods leaned their heads, jealously guarding the delicate
flowers from the sun. Beech trees, growing close in clanny groups, spread
their straight limbs gracefully; the white birches gleamed like silver
wherever a stray sunbeam stole through the foliage, and the oaks, monarchs of
the forest, rose over all, dark, rugged, and kingly.
The Spirit of the Border |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Awakening & Selected Short Stories by Kate Chopin: out toward the Gulf. There was a soft effulgence in the east. The
moon was coming up, and its mystic shimmer was casting a million
lights across the distant, restless water.
"Would you like to hear Mademoiselle Reisz play?" asked
Robert, coming out on the porch where she was. Of course Edna
would like to hear Mademoiselle Reisz play; but she feared it would
be useless to entreat her.
"I'll ask her," he said. "I'll tell her that you want to hear
her. She likes you. She will come." He turned and hurried away to
one of the far cottages, where Mademoiselle Reisz was shuffling
away. She was dragging a chair in and out of her room, and at
Awakening & Selected Short Stories |
