| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Village Rector by Honore de Balzac: the windows, where the broken glass was replaced by paper not even
oiled. All the windows were without curtains, the fireplaces without
mirrors or andirons; the hearth was garnished with one log of wood and
a few little sticks almost caked with the soot which had fallen down
the chimney. There were two rickety chairs, two thin couches, a few
cracked pots and mended plates, a one-armed armchair, a dilapidated
bed, the curtains of which time had embroidered with a bold hand, a
worm-eaten secretary where the miser kept his seeds, a pile of linen
thickened by many darns, and a heap of ragged garments, which existed
only by the will of their master; he being dead they dropped into
shreds, powder, chemical dissolution, in fact I know not into what
|
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Ozma of Oz by L. Frank Baum: Just then the Chief Steward rushed in with a sponge and a bowl of
water, and began mopping away the broken eggs from his master's face.
In a few minutes, and while all the party stood looking on, the King
regained the use of his eyes, and the first thing he did was to glare
wickedly upon the Scarecrow and exclaim:
"I'll make you suffer for this, you hay-stuffed dummy! Don't you know
eggs are poison to Nomes?"
"Really," said the Scarecrow, "they DON'T seem to agree with you,
although I wonder why."
"They were strictly fresh and above suspicion," said Billina. "You
ought to be glad to get them."
 Ozma of Oz |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Bunner Sisters by Edith Wharton: aversion for her hostess, and her eyes turned with involuntary
annoyance to the square-backed form of Linda, still inquisitively
suspended on the fence. It seemed to Ann Eliza that Evelina and
her companion would never return from the wood; but they came at
length, Mr. Ramy's brow pearled with perspiration, Evelina pink and
conscious, a drooping bunch of ferns in her hand; and it was clear
that, to her at least, the moments had been winged.
"D'you suppose they'll revive?" she asked, holding up the
ferns; but Ann Eliza, rising at her approach, said stiffly: "We'd
better be getting home, Evelina."
"Mercy me! Ain't you going to take your coffee first?" Mrs.
|