| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lin McLean by Owen Wister: silently dispersed.
Upon going out, Lin and I found the boy pacing up and down, eagerly in
talk with Miss Buckner. She had made friends with him, and he was now
smoothed down and deeply absorbed, being led by her to tell her about
himself. But on Lin's approach his face clouded, and he made off for the
corrals, displaying a sullen back, while I was presenting Mr. McLean to
the lady.
Overtaken by his cow-puncher shyness, Lin was greeting her with ungainly
ceremony, when she began at once, "You'll excuse me, but I just had to
have my laugh."
"That's all right, m'm," said he; "don't mention it."
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Awakening & Selected Short Stories by Kate Chopin: Ratignolle's shoulder. She was flushed and felt intoxicated with
the sound of her own voice and the unaccustomed taste of candor.
It muddled her like wine, or like a first breath of freedom.
There was the sound of approaching voices. It was Robert,
surrounded by a troop of children, searching for them. The two
little Pontelliers were with him, and he carried Madame
Ratignolle's little girl in his arms. There were other children
beside, and two nurse-maids followed, looking disagreeable and
resigned.
The women at once rose and began to shake out their draperies
and relax their muscles. Mrs. Pontellier threw the cushions and
Awakening & Selected Short Stories |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Pool in the Desert by Sara Jeanette Duncan: trafficking of souls that could end in such ravage and disaster.
The price was too heavy; I would have denuded her, at the moment, of
all that had led her into this, and turned her out a clod with fine
shoulders like fifty other women in Peshawur. Then, perhaps,
because I held myself silent and remote and she had no emotion of
fear from me, she did not immediately go.
'It will beat itself away, I suppose, like the rest of the
unreasonable pain of the world,' she said at last; and that, of
course, brought me to her side. 'Things will go back to their
proportions. This,' she touched an open rose, 'will claim its
beauty again. And life will become--perhaps--what it was before.'
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