| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Story of an African Farm by Olive Schreiner: come in handy for that.' Then he asked me if I had ever read a book called
the 'Black-eyed Creole.' 'That is the style for me,' he said; 'there where
the fellow takes the nigger-girl by the arm, and the other fellow cuts it
off! That's what I like.'
"But what he said after that I don't remember, only it made me feel as if I
were having a bad dream, and I wanted to be far away.
"When he had finished eating he did not stay long; he had to go and see
some girls home from a prayer-meeting; and he asked how it was he never saw
me walking out with any on Sunday afternoons. He said he had lots of
sweethearts, and he was going to see one the next Wednesday on a farm, and
he asked me to lend my mare. I told him she was very old. But he said it
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Lone Star Ranger by Zane Grey: did not halt to make sure. Certain he was now that some kind of
danger threatened.
Suddenly there came an unmistakable thump of horses' hoofs off
somewhere to the fore. Then a scream rent the air. It ended
abruptly. Duane leaped forward, tore his way through the thorny
brake. He heard Jennie cry again--an appealing call quickly
hushed. It seemed more to his right, and he plunged that way.
He burst into a glade where a smoldering fire and ground
covered with footprints and tracks showed that campers had
lately been. Rushing across this, he broke his passage out to
the open. But he was too late. His horse had disappeared.
The Lone Star Ranger |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Options by O. Henry: if he ever caught us around his house again he would add us to his
collection.
Goodloe Banks and I remained away five days, expecting the storm to
subside. When we dared to call at the house again May Martha Mangum
and her father were gone. Gone! The house they had rented was
closed. Their little store of goods and chattels was gone also.
And not a word of farewell to either of us from May Martha--not a
white, fluttering note pinned to the hawthorn-bush; not a chalk-mark
on the gate-post nor a post-card in the post-office to give us a clew.
For two months Goodloe Banks and I--separately--tried every scheme we
could think of to track the runaways. We used our friendship and
Options |
