| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from In the South Seas by Robert Louis Stevenson: the peaked roofs of houses. Here and there the gloss upon a leaf,
or the fracture of a stone, returned an isolated sparkle. All else
had vanished. We hung there, illuminated like a galaxy of stars IN
VACUO; we sat, manifest and blind, amid the general ambush of the
darkness; and the islanders, passing with light footfalls and low
voices in the sand of the road, lingered to observe us, unseen.
On Tuesday the dusk had fallen, the lamp had just been brought,
when a missile struck the table with a rattling smack and rebounded
past my ear. Three inches to one side and this page had never been
written; for the thing travelled like a cannon ball. It was
supposed at the time to be a nut, though even at the time I thought
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Market-Place by Harold Frederic: on this morning of departure, after they had clambered
over the drifts into the snow-bedecked train, and opened
the window of their compartment. They made sure that
they could identify the windows of Miss Madden's suite,
and that the curtains were drawn aside--but there was no
other token of occupancy discernible. They had said good-bye
to the two ladies the previous evening, of course--it
lingered in their minds as a rather perfunctory ceremony--but
this had not prevented their hoping for another farewell
glimpse of their friends. No one came to wave a hand
from the balcony, however, and the youngsters looked
 The Market-Place |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Call of the Canyon by Zane Grey: selfish, false courage, roused to hide her hurt, to save her own future?
Courage should have a thought of others. Yet shamed one moment at the
consciousness she would write Glenn again and again, and exultant the next
with the clamouring love, she seemed to have climbed beyond the self that
had striven to forget. She would remember and think though she died of
longing.
Carley, like a drowning woman, caught at straws. What a relief and joy to
give up that endless nagging at her mind! For months she had kept
ceaselessly active, by associations which were of no help to her and which
did not make her happy, in her determination to forget. Suddenly then she
gave up to remembrance. She would cease trying to get over her love for
 The Call of the Canyon |