| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens: apartment, in the attic story. Notwithstanding her declaration in
the locksmith's presence, she was in no mood for sleep; so, putting
her light upon the table and withdrawing the little window curtain,
she gazed out pensively at the wild night sky.
Perhaps she wondered what star was destined for her habitation when
she had run her little course below; perhaps speculated which of
those glimmering spheres might be the natal orb of Mr Tappertit;
perhaps marvelled how they could gaze down on that perfidious
creature, man, and not sicken and turn green as chemists' lamps;
perhaps thought of nothing in particular. Whatever she thought
about, there she sat, until her attention, alive to anything
Barnaby Rudge |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Breaking Point by Mary Roberts Rinehart: cannot write how I feel, just as I cannot say it. But, Dick dear,
I have such a terrible fear of losing you, and you are my life now.
You will be careful and not run any risks, won't you? And just
remember this always. Wherever you are and wherever I am, I am
thinking of you and waiting for you."
He read it three times, until he knew it by heart, and he slept
with it in the pocket of his pajama coat.
Three days later he reached Norada, and registered at the Commercial
Hotel. The town itself conveyed nothing to him. He found it
totally unfamiliar, and for its part the town passed him by without
a glance. A new field had come in, twenty miles from the old one,
The Breaking Point |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories by Alice Dunbar: monosyllabic French. It was a child without an identity; there
was but one name that any one seemed to know, and that, too, was
vague,--Camille.
She grew up with the rest of the waifs; scraps of French and
American civilization thrown together to develop a seemingly
inconsistent miniature world. Mademoiselle Camille was a queen
among them, a pretty little tyrant who ruled the children and
dominated the more timid sisters in charge.
One day an awakening came. When she was fifteen, and almost
fully ripened into a glorious tropical beauty of the type that
matures early, some visitors to the convent were fascinated by
The Goodness of St. Rocque and Other Stories |
