| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An Episode Under the Terror by Honore de Balzac: the silent streets. He stood in thought, and seemed by his attitude to
hesitate. She could see him dimly now, under the street lamp that sent
a faint, flickering light through the fog. Fear gave her eyes. She
saw, or thought she saw, something sinister about the stranger's
features. Her old terrors awoke; she took advantage of a kind of
hesitation on his part, slipped through the shadows to the door of the
solitary house, pressed a spring, and vanished swiftly as a phantom.
For awhile the stranger stood motionless, gazing up at the house. It
was in some sort a type of the wretched dwellings in the suburb; a
tumble-down hovel, built of rough stones, daubed over with a coat of
yellowish stucco, and so riven with great cracks that there seemed to
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Door in the Wall, et. al. by H. G. Wells: riding out now from among a drift of clouds, halfway up the sky
above the undulating wooded outlines of Newcastle. The steaming
canal ran away from below them under an indistinct bridge, and
vanished into the dim haze of the flat fields towards Burslem.
"That's the cone I've been telling you of," shouted Horrocks;
"and, below that, sixty feet of fire and molten metal, with the air
of the blast frothing through it like gas in soda-water."
Raut gripped the hand-rail tightly, and stared down at the
cone. The heat was intense. The boiling of the iron and the
tumult of the blast made a thunderous accompaniment to Horrocks'
voice. But the thing had to be gone through now. Perhaps, after
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Awakening & Selected Short Stories by Kate Chopin: occasion and replaced by the most commodious and luxurious which
could be collected throughout the house. Mademoiselle Reisz, being
exceedingly diminutive, was elevated upon cushions, as small
children are sometimes hoisted at table upon bulky volumes.
"Something new, Edna?" exclaimed Miss Mayblunt, with lorgnette
directed toward a magnificent cluster of diamonds that sparkled,
that almost sputtered, in Edna's hair, just over the center of her
forehead.
"Quite new; `brand' new, in fact; a present from my husband.
It arrived this morning from New York. I may as well admit that
this is my birthday, and that I am twenty-nine. In good time
 Awakening & Selected Short Stories |