| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Herbert West: Reanimator by H. P. Lovecraft: fear -- a very fantastic sensation resulting from a curious experiment
in the Canadian army in 1915. West, in the midst of a severe battle,
had reanimated Major Sir Eric Moreland Clapham-Lee, D.S.O., a
fellow-physician who knew about his experiments and could have
duplicated them. The head had been removed, so that the possibilities
of quasi-intelligent life in the trunk might be investigated.
Just as the building was wiped out by a German shell, there had
been a success. The trunk had moved intelligently; and, unbelievable
to relate, we were both sickeningly sure that articulate sounds
had come from the detached head as it lay in a shadowy corner
of the laboratory. The shell had been merciful, in a way -- but
 Herbert West: Reanimator |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Last War: A World Set Free by H. G. Wells: surfaces of the vapour strata that hid the world below. Over
great spaces those banks lay as even as a frozen lava-flow and
almost as still, and then they were rent by ragged areas of
translucency, pierced by clear chasms, so that dim patches of the
land below gleamed remotely through abysses. Once he saw quite
distinctly the plan of a big railway station outlined in lamps
and signals, and once the flames of a burning rick showing livid
through a boiling drift of smoke on the side of some great hill.
But if the world was masked it was alive with sounds. Up through
that vapour floor came the deep roar of trains, the whistles of
horns of motor-cars, a sound of rifle fire away to the south, and
 The Last War: A World Set Free |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Droll Stories, V. 1 by Honore de Balzac: and was going to bundle him out again, when one of the chamber-women
called him from the top of the stairs--"Eh M. Imbert, it is Madame's
young fellow," and poor Philippe, blushing like a wedding night, ran
up the stairs, shaking with happiness and delight. The servant took
him by the hand and led into the chamber where sat Madame, lightly
attired like a brave woman who awaits her conqueror.
The dazzling Imperia was seated near a table covered with a shaggy
cloth ornamented with gold, and with all the requisites for a dainty
carouse. Flagons of wine, various drinking glasses, bottles of the
hippocras, flasks full of good wine of Cyprus, pretty boxes full of
spices, roast peacocks, green sauces, little salt hams--all that would
 Droll Stories, V. 1 |