| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: Vegetation was declining, and the terrible snows of the winter
no longer melted completely even in midsummer. The saunan livestock
were nearly all dead, and the mammals were standing it none too
well. To keep on with the work of the upper world it had become
necessary to adapt some of the amorphous and curiously cold-resistant
Shoggoths to land life - a thing the Old Ones had formerly been
reluctant to do. The great river was now lifeless, and the upper
sea had lost most of its denizens except the seals and whales.
All the birds had flown away, save only the great, grotesque penguins.
What had happened afterward we could only guess. How long had
the new sea-cavern city survived? Was it still down there, a stony
At the Mountains of Madness |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Finished by H. Rider Haggard: one of his good stories which he always managed to make so
humorous by a trick of pleasing and harmless exaggeration, and
they were both laughing merrily. Then she caught sight of the
doctor and her merriment evaporated like a drop of water on a hot
shovel. Distinctly I saw her pull herself together and prepare
for something.
"How do you do?" she said rapidly, rising and holding out her
slim sun-browned hand. "But I need not ask, you look so well."
"How do you do, my dear," with a heavy emphasis on the "dear" he
answered slowly. "But I needn't ask, for I see that you are in
perfect health and spirits," and he bent forward as though to
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Lock and Key Library by Julian Hawthorne, Ed.: weathercock down. It was a stormy night and I remonstrated; but
Jack called my attention to its making a sound like a cry of
despair, and said somebody would be "hailing a ghost" presently, if
it wasn't done. So, up to the top of the house, where I could
hardly stand for the wind, we went, accompanied by Mr. Beaver; and
there Jack, lantern and all, with Mr. Beaver after him, swarmed up
to the top of a cupola, some two dozen feet above the chimneys, and
stood upon nothing particular, coolly knocking the weathercock off,
until they both got into such good spirits with the wind and the
height, that I thought they would never come down. Another night,
they turned out again, and had a chimney-cowl off. Another night,
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