| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Ann Veronica by H. G. Wells: Ann Veronica shrugged her shoulders.
"Very well," said her father.
"I think this ends the business," he said, turning to his sister.
"It's not for us to supplicate any more. She must learn
wisdom--as God pleases."
"But, my dear Peter!" said Miss Stanley.
"No," said her brother, conclusively, "it's not for a parent to
go on persuading a child."
Miss Stanley rose and regarded Ann Veronica fixedly. The girl
stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and
intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: staring at the mysterious words, "How I was murdered."
"It is a woman, a lady of position. And if she is mad, then her
madness certainly has method." Muller said these words in his
usual quiet way, almost indifferently. The young commissioner
started up and snatched for the fine white handkerchief which the
detective handed him. A strong sweet perfume filled the room.
"It is hers?" he murmured.
"It is hers," said Muller. "At least we can take that much for
granted, for the handkerchief bears the same monogram, A. L., which
is on the notebook."
Commissioner von Mayringen rose from his chair in evident excitement.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Troll Garden and Selected Stories by Willa Cather: attention to a butterfly he had caught. Steavens, impressed by
the tender and delicate modeling of the thin, tired face, had
asked him if it were his mother. He remembered the dull flush
that had burned up in the sculptor's face.
The lawyer was sitting in a rocking chair beside the coffin,
his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Steavens looked at him
earnestly, puzzled at the line of the chin, and wondering why a
man should conceal a feature of such distinction under that
disfiguring shock of beard. Suddenly, as though he felt the
young sculptor's keen glance, he opened his eyes.
"Was he always a good deal of an oyster?" he asked abruptly.
The Troll Garden and Selected Stories |
