|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Off on a Comet by Jules Verne:
and upon the summit of the rock both Ben Zoof and himself fancied
they could make out another semaphore, giving signals, no doubt,
in response to the one here.
"Yes, it is only too clear; they have already occupied it,
and established their communications," said Servadac.
"And what are we to do, then?" asked Ben Zoof.
"We must pocket our chagrin, and put as good a face on the matter as we can,"
replied the captain.
"But perhaps there are only four or five Englishmen to protect the place,"
said Ben Zoof, as if meditating an assault.
"No, no, Ben Zoof," answered Servadac; "we must do nothing rash.
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Drama on the Seashore by Honore de Balzac:
the poor man was now obliged to live by his daily labor. His wife was
dead of the fever, and money was owing for Perotte's nursing. The wife
of Pierre Cambremer owed about one hundred francs to divers persons
for the little girl,--linen, clothes, and what not,--and it so chanced
that she had sewed a bit of Spanish gold into her mattress for a nest-
egg toward paying off that money. It was wrapped in paper, and on the
paper was written by her: 'For Perotte.' Jacquette Brouin had had a
fine education; she could write like a clerk, and had taught her son
to write too. I can't tell you how it was that the villain scented the
gold, stole it, and went off to Croisic to enjoy himself. Pierre
Cambremer, as if it was ordained, came back that day in his boat; as
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Yates Pride by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman:
Say, Eudora, you know how I used to feel about you. Well, it has
lasted all these years. There has never been another woman I
even cared to look at. You are alone, except for that baby, and
I am alone. Eudora --"
The man hesitated. His flushed face had paled. Eudora paced
silently and waveringly at his side.
"Eudora," the man went on, "you know you always used to run away
from me--never gave me a chance to really ask; and I thought you
didn't care. But somehow I have wondered--perhaps because you
never got married--if you didn't quite mean it, if you didn't
quite know your own mind. You'll think I'm a conceited ass, but