| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells: sign of human help and effort in the sky.
"We are in the midst of it," I said, "quiet as it is. That
flicker in the sky tells of the gathering storm. Yonder, I take
it are the Martians, and Londonward, where those hills rise
about Richmond and Kingston and the trees give cover, earth-
works are being thrown up and guns are being placed. Pres-
ently the Martians will be coming this way again."
And even as I spoke he sprang to his feet and stopped me
by a gesture.
"Listen!" he said.
From beyond the low hills across the water came the dull
War of the Worlds |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells: College Arms. A man standing at an open cottage door
greeted me by name as I passed.
I looked at my house with a quick flash of hope that
faded immediately. The door had been forced; it was unfast
and was opening slowly as I approached.
It slammed again. The curtains of my study fluttered
out of the open window from which I and the artilleryman
had watched the dawn. No one had closed it since. The
smashed bushes were just as I had left them nearly four
weeks ago. I stumbled into the hall, and the house felt
empty. The stair carpet was ruffled and discoloured where
War of the Worlds |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Story of an African Farm by Olive Schreiner: rolled the white mist over the valleys of superstition, and above him
towered the mountains. They had seemed low before; they were of an
immeasurable height now, from crown to foundation surrounded by walls of
rock, that rose tier above tier in mighty circles. Upon them played the
eternal sunshine. He uttered a wild cry. He bowed himself on to the
earth, and when he rose his face was white. In absolute silence he walked
on. He was very silent now. In those high regions the rarefied air is
hard to breathe by those born in the valleys; every breath he drew hurt
him, and the blood oozed out from the tips of his fingers. Before the next
wall of rock he began to work. The height of this seemed infinite, and he
said nothing. The sound of his tool rang night and day upon the iron rocks
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