The story follows two gas station attendants, I and Harnie, and their encounter with a mysterious stranger who arrives in a beautiful car. They recount the story of a beautiful woman who came to their town years ago and sat down with her cello, never moving again. When Harnie plucked one of the cello strings, his hand lit up and was consumed in a shower of sparks. Though a strange event, the townspeople acted like nothing happened. The stranger insists on being taken to see the woman. When they arrive, he plays her a song on his steel guitar, and she opens her eyes for the first time in decades.
Jennifer awakes on a beach at night, and meets Hrim-Faxi,
the horse who draws the chariot of night in Norse mythology.
Hrim-Faxi is wise and
good, and he shows her the wonders of the night. Is he also
an angel or is it all a dream? Jenny's Ride is spiritual
without denominational
references. A child on the verge of adolescence will be
comforted by Hrim-Faxi’s final words: “Some day you will
be too old to believe in me. But
do not be sad about it, Jenny. Even then I will come to you
in dreams so that you can be a child again.”
Many decades have passed since the peace ended between the People and the Dragons. It's been decades since Drax the Fearsome, the Emperor of Dragons, has seen the battlefront. In this time, he hasn't been doing anything else than taking care of his two sons.
But everything changed once Hans – the first Yellow Dragon – was born.
He brings only trouble to his family. He learns to be so evil that a war with the People seems to be imminent. But up to the war, Hans tries to help the Good Sorceress by fighting the hounds of the Grizzled Wolves. There he learns that being at war with other creatures, isn't exactly the Dragon's way of life...
Playboy, it's not the magazine, it's an old Pulp fiction story for entertainment purposed. Enjoy. Gloucester, Virginia Links and News website. Visit us for incredible content.
Jennifer awakes on a beach at night, and meets Hrim-Faxi,
the horse who draws the chariot of night in Norse mythology.
Hrim-Faxi is wise and
good, and he shows her the wonders of the night. Is he also
an angel or is it all a dream? Jenny's Ride is spiritual
without denominational
references. A child on the verge of adolescence will be
comforted by Hrim-Faxi’s final words: “Some day you will
be too old to believe in me. But
do not be sad about it, Jenny. Even then I will come to you
in dreams so that you can be a child again.”
Many decades have passed since the peace ended between the People and the Dragons. It's been decades since Drax the Fearsome, the Emperor of Dragons, has seen the battlefront. In this time, he hasn't been doing anything else than taking care of his two sons.
But everything changed once Hans – the first Yellow Dragon – was born.
He brings only trouble to his family. He learns to be so evil that a war with the People seems to be imminent. But up to the war, Hans tries to help the Good Sorceress by fighting the hounds of the Grizzled Wolves. There he learns that being at war with other creatures, isn't exactly the Dragon's way of life...
Playboy, it's not the magazine, it's an old Pulp fiction story for entertainment purposed. Enjoy. Gloucester, Virginia Links and News website. Visit us for incredible content.
This joint presentation will focus on a project between CENTREDOC and the ARMASUISSE Science and Technology Foresight program to set up an optimized Patent Landscape process. The talk will outline the major bottlenecks identified in the existing process, the solutions considered and implemented by CENTREDOC, as well as the results achieved by ARMASUISSE in its capacity to anticipate and get the necessary understanding of emerging technologies. As technologies can be considered independently of the domain of application, creating a contributory platform providing structured information about technologies is of common general interest at governmental and industrial level, both national and international.
Slides from my 7/20/16 talk at Carbon Five Talk Night:
Design and engineering have value. We need to do a better job of proving it. Too often, we leave metrics to someone else, when we can directly learn and show the impact we're having. Learn how to initiate and implement a metrics strategy from someone who really cares about money. And people. But mostly, money.
918 Riders to the Sea CATHLEEN (slowly and clearly) An Id.docxtaishao1
9'18 Riders to the Sea
CATHLEEN (slowly and clearly) An Id
anything she will do and isn't it o. ~oman will be soon tired with
keening, and makin~ great nlt~e ays herself is after crying and
MAURYA (puts th sorrow m the house?
t empty cup mouth downwards h
together on BARTLEY'S feet) Th' on t e table, and /c,ys her hands
is come. May the Almighty G ;r;e all together this time, and the end
Michael's soul, and on the sO~ls o~~~mercy on Bartley's soul, and on
and Shawn (bending her head)' d earn us and Patch, and Stephen
Nora, and on the soul of e ' ' an ~ay He have mercy on my soul
very one IS left living in the world '
She pa'" --' .l._ " • ....es, auu W", keen rises l' le
away. , a Itt more loudly from the women, then sinks
MAURYA (continuing) Mich;el has a . .
grace of the Almighty God B I dea~ bunal m the far north, by the
white boards and ad' art ey wdl have a fine coffin out of the
h ' eep grave surely Wh
t at? No man at all can be Iivin f, . at more can We Want than
She kneels do' g. Or ever, and we must be satisfied.
wn again and the curtain falls slowly.
QUESTIONS
1. In tragedy th .
. I .'. e protagoOlstgenerally ff,
15 C ear m thiS play; but what about acts, ~u ers; and learns. The sufferin
a. Does the protagonist act the actmg and learning? g
b. beWh~t ~oes she learn? H~~ri~~!?d~Eat are the effects of her actions?
~nOlng? 1 erent at the play's end than at the'
2. What,!S the effect of a traged in w ' '. .
;(u~n rather than active? Supi:ort YO~~~hth~ trotagomst IS essentially "acted
an , to other tragedies that fit th' eSls y references to Riders to the Sea
any)., ,,,', . ' ' IS not·very-common pattern l'f y' know ' 3 :n' I ' , ,. ' , ou
• IS!:.USS the language of the la:' '" , ..• " : ' ' ,
tra81F aspects of the drama? p ,r,' Ho~ does It 'Support both th~ ~alistic and ","
, , """>"'jf .!,' /~, ~!£ ll'~.'~ "'-'~. ,; Il,.J1.; ;"_\t,~, '.'".,'
.; ':"·,i1:'. L, \1,', ,';
,1"." " :J
~ .j .: t !" ' ;', r
iJ: ,',
SUSAN GLASPELL (1882-1948)
Trifles
CHARACTERS
SHERIFF PETERS
MltS. PETERS
HALE
MltS. HALE
COUNTY ATTORNEY HENDEltSON
SCENE. The kitchen in the now abandoned farmhouse ofJohn Wright, a gloomy
kitchen, and left without having been put in order-the walls covered with a faded
wall paper. Down right is a door leading to,the parlor. On the right wall above this
door is a built-in kitchen cupboard with shelves in the upper portion and drawers
below. In the rear wall at right. up two steps is a door opening onto stairs leading to
the second floor. In the rear wall at left is a door to the shed and from there to the
outside. Between these two doors is an old{ashifmed black iron stove. Running along
the left wall from the shed'door is an old iron sink and sink shelf, in which is set a
hand pump. Downstage of the sink is an uncurtained window. Near the window is an
old wooden rocker. Genter stage is an unpainted wooden kitchen table with str.
918 Riders to the Sea CATHLEEN (slowly and clearly) An Id.docxevonnehoggarth79783
9'18 Riders to the Sea
CATHLEEN (slowly and clearly) An Id
anything she will do and isn't it o. ~oman will be soon tired with
keening, and makin~ great nlt~e ays herself is after crying and
MAURYA (puts th sorrow m the house?
t empty cup mouth downwards h
together on BARTLEY'S feet) Th' on t e table, and /c,ys her hands
is come. May the Almighty G ;r;e all together this time, and the end
Michael's soul, and on the sO~ls o~~~mercy on Bartley's soul, and on
and Shawn (bending her head)' d earn us and Patch, and Stephen
Nora, and on the soul of e ' ' an ~ay He have mercy on my soul
very one IS left living in the world '
She pa'" --' .l._ " • ....es, auu W", keen rises l' le
away. , a Itt more loudly from the women, then sinks
MAURYA (continuing) Mich;el has a . .
grace of the Almighty God B I dea~ bunal m the far north, by the
white boards and ad' art ey wdl have a fine coffin out of the
h ' eep grave surely Wh
t at? No man at all can be Iivin f, . at more can We Want than
She kneels do' g. Or ever, and we must be satisfied.
wn again and the curtain falls slowly.
QUESTIONS
1. In tragedy th .
. I .'. e protagoOlstgenerally ff,
15 C ear m thiS play; but what about acts, ~u ers; and learns. The sufferin
a. Does the protagonist act the actmg and learning? g
b. beWh~t ~oes she learn? H~~ri~~!?d~Eat are the effects of her actions?
~nOlng? 1 erent at the play's end than at the'
2. What,!S the effect of a traged in w ' '. .
;(u~n rather than active? Supi:ort YO~~~hth~ trotagomst IS essentially "acted
an , to other tragedies that fit th' eSls y references to Riders to the Sea
any)., ,,,', . ' ' IS not·very-common pattern l'f y' know ' 3 :n' I ' , ,. ' , ou
• IS!:.USS the language of the la:' '" , ..• " : ' ' ,
tra81F aspects of the drama? p ,r,' Ho~ does It 'Support both th~ ~alistic and ","
, , """>"'jf .!,' /~, ~!£ ll'~.'~ "'-'~. ,; Il,.J1.; ;"_\t,~, '.'".,'
.; ':"·,i1:'. L, \1,', ,';
,1"." " :J
~ .j .: t !" ' ;', r
iJ: ,',
SUSAN GLASPELL (1882-1948)
Trifles
CHARACTERS
SHERIFF PETERS
MltS. PETERS
HALE
MltS. HALE
COUNTY ATTORNEY HENDEltSON
SCENE. The kitchen in the now abandoned farmhouse ofJohn Wright, a gloomy
kitchen, and left without having been put in order-the walls covered with a faded
wall paper. Down right is a door leading to,the parlor. On the right wall above this
door is a built-in kitchen cupboard with shelves in the upper portion and drawers
below. In the rear wall at right. up two steps is a door opening onto stairs leading to
the second floor. In the rear wall at left is a door to the shed and from there to the
outside. Between these two doors is an old{ashifmed black iron stove. Running along
the left wall from the shed'door is an old iron sink and sink shelf, in which is set a
hand pump. Downstage of the sink is an uncurtained window. Near the window is an
old wooden rocker. Genter stage is an unpainted wooden kitchen table with str.
918 Riders to the Sea CATHLEEN (slowly and clearly) An Id.docxblondellchancy
9'18 Riders to the Sea
CATHLEEN (slowly and clearly) An Id
anything she will do and isn't it o. ~oman will be soon tired with
keening, and makin~ great nlt~e ays herself is after crying and
MAURYA (puts th sorrow m the house?
t empty cup mouth downwards h
together on BARTLEY'S feet) Th' on t e table, and /c,ys her hands
is come. May the Almighty G ;r;e all together this time, and the end
Michael's soul, and on the sO~ls o~~~mercy on Bartley's soul, and on
and Shawn (bending her head)' d earn us and Patch, and Stephen
Nora, and on the soul of e ' ' an ~ay He have mercy on my soul
very one IS left living in the world '
She pa'" --' .l._ " • ....es, auu W", keen rises l' le
away. , a Itt more loudly from the women, then sinks
MAURYA (continuing) Mich;el has a . .
grace of the Almighty God B I dea~ bunal m the far north, by the
white boards and ad' art ey wdl have a fine coffin out of the
h ' eep grave surely Wh
t at? No man at all can be Iivin f, . at more can We Want than
She kneels do' g. Or ever, and we must be satisfied.
wn again and the curtain falls slowly.
QUESTIONS
1. In tragedy th .
. I .'. e protagoOlstgenerally ff,
15 C ear m thiS play; but what about acts, ~u ers; and learns. The sufferin
a. Does the protagonist act the actmg and learning? g
b. beWh~t ~oes she learn? H~~ri~~!?d~Eat are the effects of her actions?
~nOlng? 1 erent at the play's end than at the'
2. What,!S the effect of a traged in w ' '. .
;(u~n rather than active? Supi:ort YO~~~hth~ trotagomst IS essentially "acted
an , to other tragedies that fit th' eSls y references to Riders to the Sea
any)., ,,,', . ' ' IS not·very-common pattern l'f y' know ' 3 :n' I ' , ,. ' , ou
• IS!:.USS the language of the la:' '" , ..• " : ' ' ,
tra81F aspects of the drama? p ,r,' Ho~ does It 'Support both th~ ~alistic and ","
, , """>"'jf .!,' /~, ~!£ ll'~.'~ "'-'~. ,; Il,.J1.; ;"_\t,~, '.'".,'
.; ':"·,i1:'. L, \1,', ,';
,1"." " :J
~ .j .: t !" ' ;', r
iJ: ,',
SUSAN GLASPELL (1882-1948)
Trifles
CHARACTERS
SHERIFF PETERS
MltS. PETERS
HALE
MltS. HALE
COUNTY ATTORNEY HENDEltSON
SCENE. The kitchen in the now abandoned farmhouse ofJohn Wright, a gloomy
kitchen, and left without having been put in order-the walls covered with a faded
wall paper. Down right is a door leading to,the parlor. On the right wall above this
door is a built-in kitchen cupboard with shelves in the upper portion and drawers
below. In the rear wall at right. up two steps is a door opening onto stairs leading to
the second floor. In the rear wall at left is a door to the shed and from there to the
outside. Between these two doors is an old{ashifmed black iron stove. Running along
the left wall from the shed'door is an old iron sink and sink shelf, in which is set a
hand pump. Downstage of the sink is an uncurtained window. Near the window is an
old wooden rocker. Genter stage is an unpainted wooden kitchen table with str ...
918 Riders to the Sea CATHLEEN (slowly and clearly) An Id.docxsleeperharwell
9'18 Riders to the Sea
CATHLEEN (slowly and clearly) An Id
anything she will do and isn't it o. ~oman will be soon tired with
keening, and makin~ great nlt~e ays herself is after crying and
MAURYA (puts th sorrow m the house?
t empty cup mouth downwards h
together on BARTLEY'S feet) Th' on t e table, and /c,ys her hands
is come. May the Almighty G ;r;e all together this time, and the end
Michael's soul, and on the sO~ls o~~~mercy on Bartley's soul, and on
and Shawn (bending her head)' d earn us and Patch, and Stephen
Nora, and on the soul of e ' ' an ~ay He have mercy on my soul
very one IS left living in the world '
She pa'" --' .l._ " • ....es, auu W", keen rises l' le
away. , a Itt more loudly from the women, then sinks
MAURYA (continuing) Mich;el has a . .
grace of the Almighty God B Idea~ bunal m the far north, by the
white boards and ad' art ey wdl have a fine coffin out of the
h ' eep grave surely Wh
t at? No man at all can be Iivin f, . at more can We Want than
She kneels do' g. Or ever, and we must be satisfied.
wn again and the curtain falls slowly.
QUESTIONS
1. In tragedy th .
. I .'. e protagoOlstgenerally ff,
15 C ear m thiS play; but what about acts, ~u ers; and learns. The sufferin
a. Does the protagonist act the actmg and learning? g
b. beWh~t ~oes she learn? H~~ri~~!?d~Eat are the effects of her actions?
~nOlng? 1 erent at the play's end than at the'
2. What,!S the effect of a traged in w ' '. .
;(u~n rather than active? Supi:ort YO~~~hth~ trotagomst IS essentially "acted
an , to other tragedies that fit th' eSls y references to Riders to the Sea
any)., ,,,', . ' ' IS not·very-common pattern l'f y' know ' 3 :n' I ' , ,. ' , ou
• IS!:.USS the language of the la:' '" , ..• " : ' ' ,
tra81F aspects of the drama? p ,r,' Ho~ does It 'Support both th~ ~alistic and ","
, , """>"'jf .!,' /~, ~!£ ll'~.'~ "'-'~. ,; Il,.J1.; ;"_\t,~, '.'".,'
.; ':"·,i1:'. L, \1,', ,';
,1"." " :J
~ .j .: t !" ' ;', r
iJ: ,',
SUSAN GLASPELL (1882-1948)
Trifles
CHARACTERS
SHERIFF PETERS
MltS. PETERS
HALE
MltS. HALE
COUNTY ATTORNEY HENDEltSON
SCENE. The kitchen in the now abandoned farmhouse ofJohn Wright, a gloomy
kitchen, and left without having been put in order-the walls covered with a faded
wall paper. Down right is a door leading to,the parlor. On the right wall above this
door is a built-in kitchen cupboard with shelves in the upper portion and drawers
below. In the rear wall at right. up two steps is a door opening onto stairs leading to
the second floor. In the rear wall at left is a door to the shed and from there to the
outside. Between these two doors is an old{ashifmed black iron stove. Running along
the left wall from the shed'door is an old iron sink and sink shelf, in which is set a
hand pump. Downstage of the sink is an uncurtained window. Near the window is an
old wooden rocker. Genter stage is an unpainted wooden kitchen table with strai.
The Life You Save May Be Your OwnFlannery OConnorTHE old wo.docxoreo10
The Life You Save May Be Your Own
Flannery O'Connor
THE old woman and her daughter were sitting on their porch when Mr. Shiftlet came up their road for the first time. The old woman slid to the edge of her chair and leaned forward, shading her eyes from the piercing sunset with her hand. The daughter could not see far in front of her and continued to play with her fingers. Although the old woman lived in this desolate spot with only her daughter and she had never seen Mr. Shiftlet before, she could tell, even from a distance, that he was a tramp and no one to be afraid of. His left coat sleeve was folded up to show there was only half an arm in it and his gaunt figure listed slightly to the side as if the breeze were pushing him. He had on a black town suit and a brown felt hat that was turned up in the front and down in the back and he carried a tin tool box by a handle. He came on, at an amble, up her road, his face turned toward the sun which appeared to be balancing itself on the peak of a small mountain.
The old woman didn't change her position until he was almost into her yard; then she rose with one hand fisted on her hip. The daughter, a large girl in a short blue organdy dress, saw him all at once and jumped up and began to stamp and point and make excited speechless sounds.
Mr. Shiftlet stopped just inside the yard and set his box on the ground and tipped his hat at her as if she were not in the least afflicted; then he turned toward the old woman and swung the hat all the way off. He had long black slick hair that hung flat from a part in the middle to beyond the tips of his ears on either side. His face descended in forehead for more than half its length and ended suddenly with his features just balanced over a jutting steeltrap jaw. He seemed to be a young man but he had a look of composed dissatisfaction as if he understood life thoroughly.
"Good evening," the old woman said. She was about the size of a cedar fence post and she had a man's gray hat pulled down low over her head.
The tramp stood looking at her and didn't answer. He turned his back and faced the sunset. He swung both his whole and his short arm up slowly so that they indicated an expanse of sky and his figure formed a crooked cross. The old woman watched him with her arms folded across her chest as if she were the owner of the sun, and the daughter watched, her head thrust forward and her fat helpless hands hanging at the wrists. She had long pinkgold hair and eyes as blue as a peacock's neck.
He held the pose for almost fifty seconds and then he picked up his box and came on to the porch and dropped down on the bottom step. "Lady," he said in a firm nasal voice, "I'd give a fortune to live where I could see me a sun do that every evening."
"Does it every evening," the old woman said and sat back down. The daughter sat down too and watched him with a cautious sly look as if he were a bird that had come up very close. He leaned to one side, rooting in his pants p ...
Sonnys BluesI read about it in the paper, in the subway, on m.docxrafbolet0
Sonny's Blues
I read about it in the paper, in the subway, on my way to work. I read it, and I couldn't believe it, and I read it again. Then perhaps I just stared at it, at the newsprint spelling out his name, spelling out the story. I stared at it in the swinging lights of the subway car, and in the faces and bodies of the people, and in my own face, trapped in the darkness which roared outside.
It was not to be believed and I kept telling myself that, as I walked from the subway station to the high school. And at the same time I couldn't doubt it. I was scared, scared for Sonny. He became real to me again. A great block of ice got settled in my belly and kept melting there slowly all day long, while I taught my classes algebra. It was a special kind of ice. It kept melting, sending trickles of ice water all up and down my veins, but it never got less. Sometimes it hardened and seemed to expand until I felt my guts were going to come spilling out or that I was going to choke or scream. This would always be at a moment when I was remembering some specific thing Sonny had once said or done.
When he was about as old as the boys in my classes his face had been bright and open, there was a lot of copper in it; and he'd had wonderfully direct brown eyes, and great gentleness and privacy. I wondered what he looked like now. He had been picked up, the evening before, in a raid on an apartment down-town, for peddling and using heroin.
I couldn't believe it: but what I mean by that is that I couldn't find any room for it anywhere inside me. I had kept it outside me for a long time. I hadn't wanted to know. I had had suspicions, but I didn't name them, I kept putting them away. I told myself that Sonny was wild, but he wasn't crazy. And he'd always been a good boy, he hadn't ever turned hard or evil or disrespectful, the way kids can, so quick, so quick, especially in Harlem. I didn't want to believe that I'd ever see my brother going down, coming to nothing, all that light in his face gone out, in the condition I'd already seen so many others. Yet it had happened and here I was, talking about algebra to a lot of boys who might, every one of them for all I knew, be popping off needles every time they went to the head. Maybe it did more for them than algebra could.
I was sure that the first time Sonny had ever had horse, he couldn't have been much older than these boys were now. These boys, now, were living as we'd been living then, they were growing up with a rush and their heads bumped abruptly against the low ceiling of their actual possibilities. They were filled with rage. All they really knew were two darknesses, the darkness of their lives, which was now closing in on them, and the darkness of the movies, which had blinded them to that other darkness, and in which they now, vindictively, dreamed, at once more together than they were at any other time, and more alone.
When the last bell rang, the last class ended, I let out my breath. It se.
Sonnys BluesSonnys BluesSonnys BluesSonnys Blues I.docxrafbolet0
Sonny's BluesSonny's BluesSonny's BluesSonny's Blues
I read about it in the paper, in the subway, on my way to work. I read it, and I couldn't believe
it, and I read it again. Then perhaps I just stared at it, at the newsprint spelling out his name,
spelling out the story. I stared at it in the swinging lights of the subway car, and in the faces
and bodies of the people, and in my own face, trapped in the darkness which roared
outside.
It was not to be believed and I kept telling myself that, as I walked from the subway station
to the high school. And at the same time I couldn't doubt it. I was scared, scared for Sonny.
He became real to me again. A great block of ice got settled in my belly and kept melting
there slowly all day long, while I taught my classes algebra. It was a special kind of ice. It
kept melting, sending trickles of ice water all up and down my veins, but it never got less.
Sometimes it hardened and seemed to expand until I felt my guts were going to come
spilling out or that I was going to choke or scream. This would always be at a moment when I
was remembering some specific thing Sonny had once said or done.
When he was about as old as the boys in my classes his face had been bright and open,
there was a lot of copper in it; and he'd had wonderfully direct brown eyes, and great
gentleness and privacy. I wondered what he looked like now. He had been picked up, the
evening before, in a raid on an apartment down-town, for peddling and using heroin.
I couldn't believe it: but what I mean by that is that I couldn't find any room for it anywhere
inside me. I had kept it outside me for a long time. I hadn't wanted to know. I had had
suspicions, but I didn't name them, I kept putting them away. I told myself that Sonny was
wild, but he wasn't crazy. And he'd always been a good boy, he hadn't ever turned hard or
evil or disrespectful, the way kids can, so quick, so quick, especially in Harlem. I didn't want
to believe that I'd ever see my brother going down, coming to nothing, all that light in his
face gone out, in the condition I'd already seen so many others. Yet it had happened and
here I was, talking about algebra to a lot of boys who might, every one of them for all I knew,
be popping off needles every time they went to the head. Maybe it did more for them than
algebra could.
I was sure that the first time Sonny had ever had horse, he couldn't have been much older
than these boys were now. These boys, now, were living as we'd been living then, they were
growing up with a rush and their heads bumped abruptly against the low ceiling of their
actual possibilities. They were filled with rage. All they really knew were two darknesses, the
darkness of their lives, which was now closing in on them, and the darkness of the movies,
which had blinded them to that other darkness, and in which they now, vindictively,
dreamed, at once more together than they were at any other time, and more .
It was too late to call up for a cab or anything, so I walked the .docxdonnajames55
It was too late to call up for a cab or anything, so I walked the whole way to the station. It wasn't too far, but it was cold as hell, and the snow made it hard for walking, and my Gladstones kept banging hell out of my legs. I sort of enjoyed the air and all, though. The only trouble was, the cold made my nose hurt, and right under my upper lip, where old Stradlater'd laid one on me. He'd smacked my lip right on my teeth, and it was pretty sore. My ears were nice and warm, though. That hat I bought had earlaps in it, and I put them on--I didn't give a damn how I looked. Nobody was around anyway. Everybody was in the sack.
I was quite lucky when I got to the station, because I only had to wait about ten minutes for a train. While I waited, I got some snow in my hand and washed my face with it. I still had quite a bit of blood on.
Usually I like riding on trains, especially at night, with the lights on and the windows so black, and one of those guys coming up the aisle selling coffee and sandwiches and magazines. I usually buy a ham sandwich and about four magazines. If I'm on a train at night, I can usually even read one of those dumb stories in a magazine without puking. You know. One of those stories with a lot of phony, lean-jawed guys named David in it, and a lot of phony girls named Linda or Marcia that are always lighting all the goddam Davids' pipes for them. I can even read one of those lousy stories on a train at night, usually. But this time, it was different. I just didn't feel like it. I just sort of sat and not did anything. All I did was take off my hunting hat and put it in my pocket.
All of a sudden, this lady got on at Trenton and sat down next to me. Practically the whole car was empty, because it was pretty late and all, but she sat down next to me, instead of an empty seat, because she had this big bag with her and I was sitting in the front seat. She stuck the bag right out in the middle of the aisle, where the conductor and everybody could trip over it. She had these orchids on, like she'd just been to a big party or something. She was around forty or forty-five, I guess, but she was very good looking. Women kill me. They really do. I don't mean I'm oversexed or anything like that-- although I am quite sexy. I just like them, I mean. They're always leaving their goddam bags out in the middle of the aisle.
Anyway, we were sitting there, and all of a sudden she said to me, "Excuse me, but isn't that a Pencey Prep sticker?" She was looking up at my suitcases, up on the rack.
"Yes, it is," I said. She was right. I did have a goddam Pencey sticker on one of my Gladstones. Very corny, I'll admit.
"Oh, do you go to Pencey?" she said. She had a nice voice. A nice telephone voice, mostly. She should've carried a goddam telephone around with her.
"Yes, I do," I said.
"Oh, how lovely! Perhaps you know my son, then, Ernest Morrow? He goes to Pencey."
"Yes, I do. He's in my class."
Her son was doubtless the biggest bastard.
1 Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet hiSilvaGraf83
1
Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa.
Its western summit is called the Masai "Ngaje Ngai," the House of God. Close to the western summit there
is the dried and frozen carcass of a leopard. No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that
altitude.
The Snows of Kilimanjaro
By Ernest Hemingway, 1938
THE MARVELLOUS THING IS THAT IT S painless," he said. "Tha 's ho o kno
when it starts."
"Is it really?"
"Absolutely. I'm awfully sorry about the odor though. That must bother you."
"Don't! Please don't."
"Look at them," he said. "Now is it sight or is it scent that brings them like that?"
The cot the man lay on was in the wide shade of a mimosa tree and as he looked out past
the shade onto the glare of the plain there were three of the big birds squatted obscenely,
while in the sky a dozen more sailed, making quick-moving shadows as they passed.
"They've been there since the day the truck broke down," he said. "Today's the first time
any have lit on the ground. I watched the way they sailed very carefully at first in case I
ever wanted to use them in a story. That's funny now.""I wish you wouldn't," she said.
"I'm only talking," he said. "It's much easier if I talk. But I don't want to bother you."
"You know it doesn't bother me," she said. "It's that I've gotten so very nervous not being
able to do anything. I think we might make it as easy as we can until the plane comes."
"Or until the plane doesn't come."
"Please tell me what I can do. There must be something I can do.
"You can take the leg off and that might stop it, though I doubt it. Or you can shoot me.
You're a good shot now. I taught you to shoot, didn't I?"
"Please don't talk that way. Couldn't I read to you?"
2
"Read what?"
"Anything in the book that we haven't read."
"I can't listen to it," he said." Talking is the easiest. We quarrel and that makes the time
pass."
"I don't quarrel. I never want to quarrel. Let's not quarrel any more. No matter how
nervous we get. Maybe they will be back with another truck today. Maybe the plane will
come."
"I don't want to move," the man said. "There is no sense in moving now except to make it
easier for you."
"That's cowardly."
"Can't you let a man die as comfortably as he can without calling him names? What's the
use of clanging me?"
"You're not going to die."
"Don't be silly. I'm dying now. Ask those bastards." He looked over to where the huge,
filthy birds sat, their naked heads sunk in the hunched feathers. A fourth planed down, to
run quick-legged and then waddle slowly toward the others.
"They are around every camp. You never notice them. You can't die if you don't give up."
"Where did you read that? You're such a bloody fool."
"You might think about some one else."
"For Christ's sake," he said, "that's been my trade."
He lay then and was quiet for a while and looked across the ...
1
Kilimanjaro is a snow-covered mountain 19,710 feet high, and is said to be the highest mountain in Africa.
Its western summit is called the Masai "Ngaje Ngai," the House of God. Close to the western summit there
is the dried and frozen carcass of a leopard. No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that
altitude.
The Snows of Kilimanjaro
By Ernest Hemingway, 1938
THE MARVELLOUS THING IS THAT IT S painless," he said. "Tha 's ho o kno
when it starts."
"Is it really?"
"Absolutely. I'm awfully sorry about the odor though. That must bother you."
"Don't! Please don't."
"Look at them," he said. "Now is it sight or is it scent that brings them like that?"
The cot the man lay on was in the wide shade of a mimosa tree and as he looked out past
the shade onto the glare of the plain there were three of the big birds squatted obscenely,
while in the sky a dozen more sailed, making quick-moving shadows as they passed.
"They've been there since the day the truck broke down," he said. "Today's the first time
any have lit on the ground. I watched the way they sailed very carefully at first in case I
ever wanted to use them in a story. That's funny now.""I wish you wouldn't," she said.
"I'm only talking," he said. "It's much easier if I talk. But I don't want to bother you."
"You know it doesn't bother me," she said. "It's that I've gotten so very nervous not being
able to do anything. I think we might make it as easy as we can until the plane comes."
"Or until the plane doesn't come."
"Please tell me what I can do. There must be something I can do.
"You can take the leg off and that might stop it, though I doubt it. Or you can shoot me.
You're a good shot now. I taught you to shoot, didn't I?"
"Please don't talk that way. Couldn't I read to you?"
2
"Read what?"
"Anything in the book that we haven't read."
"I can't listen to it," he said." Talking is the easiest. We quarrel and that makes the time
pass."
"I don't quarrel. I never want to quarrel. Let's not quarrel any more. No matter how
nervous we get. Maybe they will be back with another truck today. Maybe the plane will
come."
"I don't want to move," the man said. "There is no sense in moving now except to make it
easier for you."
"That's cowardly."
"Can't you let a man die as comfortably as he can without calling him names? What's the
use of clanging me?"
"You're not going to die."
"Don't be silly. I'm dying now. Ask those bastards." He looked over to where the huge,
filthy birds sat, their naked heads sunk in the hunched feathers. A fourth planed down, to
run quick-legged and then waddle slowly toward the others.
"They are around every camp. You never notice them. You can't die if you don't give up."
"Where did you read that? You're such a bloody fool."
"You might think about some one else."
"For Christ's sake," he said, "that's been my trade."
He lay then and was quiet for a while and looked across the ...
A Jury of Her Peersby Susan GlaspellWhen Martha Hale opened th.docxsleeperharwell
A Jury of Her Peers
by Susan Glaspell
When Martha Hale opened the storm-door and got a cut of the north wind, she ran back for her big woolen scarf. As she hurriedly wound that round her head her eye made a scandalized sweep of her kitchen. It was no ordinary thing that called her away--it was probably further from ordinary than anything that had ever happened in Dickson County. But what her eye took in was that her kitchen was in no shape for leaving: her bread all ready for mixing, half the flour sifted and half unsifted.
She hated to see things half done; but she had been at that when the team from town stopped to get Mr. Hale, and then the sheriff came running in to say his wife wished Mrs. Hale would come too--adding, with a grin, that he guessed she was getting scary and wanted another woman along. So she had dropped everything right where it was.
"Martha!" now came her husband's impatient voice. "Don't keep folks waiting out here in the cold."
She again opened the storm-door, and this time joined the three men and the one woman waiting for her in the big two-seated buggy.
After she had the robes tucked around her she took another look at the woman who sat beside her on the back seat. She had met Mrs. Peters the year before at the county fair, and the thing she remembered about her was that she didn't seem like a sheriff's wife. She was small and thin and didn't have a strong voice. Mrs. Gorman, sheriff's wife before Gorman went out and Peters came in, had a voice that somehow seemed to be backing up the law with every word. But if Mrs. Peters didn't look like a sheriff's wife, Peters made it up in looking like a sheriff. He was to a dot the kind of man who could get himself elected sheriff--a heavy man with a big voice, who was particularly genial with the law-abiding, as if to make it plain that he knew the difference between criminals and non-criminals. And right there it came into Mrs. Hale's mind, with a stab, that this man who was so pleasant and lively with all of them was going to the Wrights' now as a sheriff.
"The country's not very pleasant this time of year," Mrs. Peters at last ventured, as if she felt they ought to be talking as well as the men.
Mrs. Hale scarcely finished her reply, for they had gone up a little hill and could see the Wright place now, and seeing it did not make her feel like talking. It looked very lonesome this cold March morning. It had always been a lonesome-looking place. It was down in a hollow, and the poplar trees around it were lonesome-looking trees. The men were looking at it and talking about what had happened. The county attorney was bending to one side of the buggy, and kept looking steadily at the place as they drew up to it.
"I'm glad you came with me," Mrs. Peters said nervously, as the two women were about to follow the men in through the kitchen door.
Even after she had her foot on the door-step, her hand on the knob, Martha Hale had a moment of feeling she could not cross that threshol.
Are the X-Men Marvel or DC An In-Depth Exploration.pdfXtreame HDTV
The world of comic books is vast and filled with iconic characters, gripping storylines, and legendary rivalries. Among the most famous groups of superheroes are the X-Men. Created in the early 1960s, the X-Men have become a cultural phenomenon, featuring in comics, animated series, and blockbuster movies. A common question among newcomers to the comic book world is: Are the X-Men Marvel or DC? This article delves into the history, creators, and significant moments of the X-Men to provide a comprehensive answer.
Panchayat Season 3 - Official Trailer.pdfSuleman Rana
The dearest series "Panchayat" is set to make a victorious return with its third season, and the fervor is discernible. The authority trailer, delivered on May 28, guarantees one more enamoring venture through the country heartland of India.
Jitendra Kumar keeps on sparkling as Abhishek Tripathi, the city-reared engineer who ends up functioning as the secretary of the Panchayat office in the curious town of Phulera. His nuanced depiction of a young fellow exploring the difficulties of country life while endeavoring to adjust to his new environmental factors has earned far and wide recognition.
Neena Gupta and Raghubir Yadav return as Manju Devi and Brij Bhushan Dubey, separately. Their dynamic science and immaculate acting rejuvenate the hardships of town administration. Gupta's depiction of the town Pradhan with an ever-evolving outlook, matched with Yadav's carefully prepared exhibition, adds profundity and credibility to the story.
New Difficulties and Experiences
The trailer indicates new difficulties anticipating the characters, as Abhishek keeps on wrestling with his part in the town and his yearnings for a superior future. The series has reliably offset humor with social editorial, and Season 3 looks ready to dig much more profound into the intricacies of rustic organization and self-awareness.
Watchers can hope to see a greater amount of the enchanting and particular residents who have become fan top picks. Their connections and the one of a kind cut of-life situations give a reviving and interesting portrayal of provincial India, featuring the two its appeal and its difficulties.
A Mix of Humor and Heart
One of the signs of "Panchayat" is its capacity to mix humor with sincere narrating. The trailer features minutes that guarantee to convey giggles, as well as scenes that pull at the heartstrings. This equilibrium has been a critical calculate the show's prosperity, resounding with crowds across different socioeconomics.
Creation Greatness
The creation quality remaining parts first rate, with the beautiful setting of Phulera town filling in as a scenery that upgrades the narrating. The meticulousness in portraying provincial life, joined with sharp composition and solid exhibitions, guarantees that "Panchayat" keeps on hanging out in the packed web series scene.
Expectation and Delivery
As the delivery date draws near, expectation for "Panchayat" Season 3 is at a record-breaking high. The authority trailer has previously created critical buzz, with fans enthusiastically anticipating the continuation of Abhishek Tripathi's excursion and the new undertakings that lie ahead in Phulera.
All in all, the authority trailer for "Panchayat" Season 3 recommends that watchers are in for another drawing in and engaging ride. Yet again with its charming characters, convincing story, and ideal mix of humor and show, the new season is set to enamor crowds. Write in your schedules and prepare to get back to the endearing universe of "Panchayat."
Skeem Saam in June 2024 available on ForumIsaac More
Monday, June 3, 2024 - Episode 241: Sergeant Rathebe nabs a top scammer in Turfloop. Meikie is furious at her uncle's reaction to the truth about Ntswaki.
Tuesday, June 4, 2024 - Episode 242: Babeile uncovers the truth behind Rathebe’s latest actions. Leeto's announcement shocks his employees, and Ntswaki’s ordeal haunts her family.
Wednesday, June 5, 2024 - Episode 243: Rathebe blocks Babeile from investigating further. Melita warns Eunice to stay clear of Mr. Kgomo.
Thursday, June 6, 2024 - Episode 244: Tbose surrenders to the police while an intruder meddles in his affairs. Rathebe's secret mission faces a setback.
Friday, June 7, 2024 - Episode 245: Rathebe’s antics reach Kganyago. Tbose dodges a bullet, but a nightmare looms. Mr. Kgomo accuses Melita of witchcraft.
Monday, June 10, 2024 - Episode 246: Ntswaki struggles on her first day back at school. Babeile is stunned by Rathebe’s romance with Bullet Mabuza.
Tuesday, June 11, 2024 - Episode 247: An unexpected turn halts Rathebe’s investigation. The press discovers Mr. Kgomo’s affair with a young employee.
Wednesday, June 12, 2024 - Episode 248: Rathebe chases a criminal, resorting to gunfire. Turf High is rife with tension and transfer threats.
Thursday, June 13, 2024 - Episode 249: Rathebe traps Kganyago. John warns Toby to stop harassing Ntswaki.
Friday, June 14, 2024 - Episode 250: Babeile is cleared to investigate Rathebe. Melita gains Mr. Kgomo’s trust, and Jacobeth devises a financial solution.
Monday, June 17, 2024 - Episode 251: Rathebe feels the pressure as Babeile closes in. Mr. Kgomo and Eunice clash. Jacobeth risks her safety in pursuit of Kganyago.
Tuesday, June 18, 2024 - Episode 252: Bullet Mabuza retaliates against Jacobeth. Pitsi inadvertently reveals his parents’ plans. Nkosi is shocked by Khwezi’s decision on LJ’s future.
Wednesday, June 19, 2024 - Episode 253: Jacobeth is ensnared in deceit. Evelyn is stressed over Toby’s case, and Letetswe reveals shocking academic results.
Thursday, June 20, 2024 - Episode 254: Elizabeth learns Jacobeth is in Mpumalanga. Kganyago's past is exposed, and Lehasa discovers his son is in KZN.
Friday, June 21, 2024 - Episode 255: Elizabeth confirms Jacobeth’s dubious activities in Mpumalanga. Rathebe lies about her relationship with Bullet, and Jacobeth faces theft accusations.
Monday, June 24, 2024 - Episode 256: Rathebe spies on Kganyago. Lehasa plans to retrieve his son from KZN, fearing what awaits.
Tuesday, June 25, 2024 - Episode 257: MaNtuli fears for Kwaito’s safety in Mpumalanga. Mr. Kgomo and Melita reconcile.
Wednesday, June 26, 2024 - Episode 258: Kganyago makes a bold escape. Elizabeth receives a shocking message from Kwaito. Mrs. Khoza defends her husband against scam accusations.
Thursday, June 27, 2024 - Episode 259: Babeile's skillful arrest changes the game. Tbose and Kwaito face a hostage crisis.
Friday, June 28, 2024 - Episode 260: Two women face the reality of being scammed. Turf is rocked by breaking
Tom Selleck Net Worth: A Comprehensive Analysisgreendigital
Over several decades, Tom Selleck, a name synonymous with charisma. From his iconic role as Thomas Magnum in the television series "Magnum, P.I." to his enduring presence in "Blue Bloods," Selleck has captivated audiences with his versatility and charm. As a result, "Tom Selleck net worth" has become a topic of great interest among fans. and financial enthusiasts alike. This article delves deep into Tom Selleck's wealth, exploring his career, assets, endorsements. and business ventures that contribute to his impressive economic standing.
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Early Life and Career Beginnings
The Foundation of Tom Selleck's Wealth
Born on January 29, 1945, in Detroit, Michigan, Tom Selleck grew up in Sherman Oaks, California. His journey towards building a large net worth began with humble origins. , Selleck pursued a business administration degree at the University of Southern California (USC) on a basketball scholarship. But, his interest shifted towards acting. leading him to study at the Hills Playhouse under Milton Katselas.
Minor roles in television and films marked Selleck's early career. He appeared in commercials and took on small parts in T.V. series such as "The Dating Game" and "Lancer." These initial steps, although modest. laid the groundwork for his future success and the growth of Tom Selleck net worth. Breakthrough with "Magnum, P.I."
The Role that Defined Tom Selleck's Career
Tom Selleck's breakthrough came with the role of Thomas Magnum in the CBS television series "Magnum, P.I." (1980-1988). This role made him a household name and boosted his net worth. The series' popularity resulted in Selleck earning large salaries. leading to financial stability and increased recognition in Hollywood.
"Magnum P.I." garnered high ratings and critical acclaim during its run. Selleck's portrayal of the charming and resourceful private investigator resonated with audiences. making him one of the most beloved television actors of the 1980s. The success of "Magnum P.I." played a pivotal role in shaping Tom Selleck net worth, establishing him as a major star.
Film Career and Diversification
Expanding Tom Selleck's Financial Portfolio
While "Magnum, P.I." was a cornerstone of Selleck's career, he did not limit himself to television. He ventured into films, further enhancing Tom Selleck net worth. His filmography includes notable movies such as "Three Men and a Baby" (1987). which became the highest-grossing film of the year, and its sequel, "Three Men and a Little Lady" (1990). These box office successes contributed to his wealth.
Selleck's versatility allowed him to transition between genres. from comedies like "Mr. Baseball" (1992) to westerns such as "Quigley Down Under" (1990). This diversification showcased his acting range. and provided many income streams, reinforcing Tom Selleck net worth.
Television Resurgence with "Blue Bloods"
Sustaining Wealth through Consistent Success
In 2010, Tom Selleck began starring as Frank Reagan i
From Slave to Scourge: The Existential Choice of Django Unchained. The Philos...Rodney Thomas Jr
#SSAPhilosophy #DjangoUnchained #DjangoFreeman #ExistentialPhilosophy #Freedom #Identity #Justice #Courage #Rebellion #Transformation
Welcome to SSA Philosophy, your ultimate destination for diving deep into the profound philosophies of iconic characters from video games, movies, and TV shows. In this episode, we explore the powerful journey and existential philosophy of Django Freeman from Quentin Tarantino’s masterful film, "Django Unchained," in our video titled, "From Slave to Scourge: The Existential Choice of Django Unchained. The Philosophy of Django Freeman!"
From Slave to Scourge: The Existential Choice of Django Unchained – The Philosophy of Django Freeman!
Join me as we delve into the existential philosophy of Django Freeman, uncovering the profound lessons and timeless wisdom his character offers. Through his story, we find inspiration in the power of choice, the quest for justice, and the courage to defy oppression. Django Freeman’s philosophy is a testament to the human spirit’s unyielding drive for freedom and justice.
Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe to SSA Philosophy for more in-depth explorations of the philosophies behind your favorite characters. Hit the notification bell to stay updated on our latest videos. Let’s discover the principles that shape these icons and the profound lessons they offer.
Django Freeman’s story is one of the most compelling narratives of transformation and empowerment in cinema. A former slave turned relentless bounty hunter, Django’s journey is not just a physical liberation but an existential quest for identity, justice, and retribution. This video delves into the core philosophical elements that define Django’s character and the profound choices he makes throughout his journey.
Link to video: https://youtu.be/GszqrXk38qk
Maximizing Your Streaming Experience with XCIPTV- Tips for 2024.pdfXtreame HDTV
In today’s digital age, streaming services have become an integral part of our entertainment lives. Among the myriad of options available, XCIPTV stands out as a premier choice for those seeking seamless, high-quality streaming. This comprehensive guide will delve into the features, benefits, and user experience of XCIPTV, illustrating why it is a top contender in the IPTV industry.
Scandal! Teasers June 2024 on etv Forum.co.zaIsaac More
Monday, 3 June 2024
Episode 47
A friend is compelled to expose a manipulative scheme to prevent another from making a grave mistake. In a frantic bid to save Jojo, Phakamile agrees to a meeting that unbeknownst to her, will seal her fate.
Tuesday, 4 June 2024
Episode 48
A mother, with her son's best interests at heart, finds him unready to heed her advice. Motshabi finds herself in an unmanageable situation, sinking fast like in quicksand.
Wednesday, 5 June 2024
Episode 49
A woman fabricates a diabolical lie to cover up an indiscretion. Overwhelmed by guilt, she makes a spontaneous confession that could be devastating to another heart.
Thursday, 6 June 2024
Episode 50
Linda unwittingly discloses damning information. Nhlamulo and Vuvu try to guide their friend towards the right decision.
Friday, 7 June 2024
Episode 51
Jojo's life continues to spiral out of control. Dintle weaves a web of lies to conceal that she is not as successful as everyone believes.
Monday, 10 June 2024
Episode 52
A heated confrontation between lovers leads to a devastating admission of guilt. Dintle's desperation takes a new turn, leaving her with dwindling options.
Tuesday, 11 June 2024
Episode 53
Unable to resort to violence, Taps issues a verbal threat, leaving Mdala unsettled. A sister must explain her life choices to regain her brother's trust.
Wednesday, 12 June 2024
Episode 54
Winnie makes a very troubling discovery. Taps follows through on his threat, leaving a woman reeling. Layla, oblivious to the truth, offers an incentive.
Thursday, 13 June 2024
Episode 55
A nosy relative arrives just in time to thwart a man's fatal decision. Dintle manipulates Khanyi to tug at Mo's heartstrings and get what she wants.
Friday, 14 June 2024
Episode 56
Tlhogi is shocked by Mdala's reaction following the revelation of their indiscretion. Jojo is in disbelief when the punishment for his crime is revealed.
Monday, 17 June 2024
Episode 57
A woman reprimands another to stay in her lane, leading to a damning revelation. A man decides to leave his broken life behind.
Tuesday, 18 June 2024
Episode 58
Nhlamulo learns that due to his actions, his worst fears have come true. Caiphus' extravagant promises to suppliers get him into trouble with Ndu.
Wednesday, 19 June 2024
Episode 59
A woman manages to kill two birds with one stone. Business doom looms over Chillax. A sobering incident makes a woman realize how far she's fallen.
Thursday, 20 June 2024
Episode 60
Taps' offer to help Nhlamulo comes with hidden motives. Caiphus' new ideas for Chillax have MaHilda excited. A blast from the past recognizes Dintle, not for her newfound fame.
Friday, 21 June 2024
Episode 61
Taps is hungry for revenge and finds a rope to hang Mdala with. Chillax's new job opportunity elicits mixed reactions from the public. Roommates' initial meeting starts off on the wrong foot.
Monday, 24 June 2024
Episode 62
Taps seizes new information and recruits someone on the inside. Mary's new job
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In the vast landscape of cinema, stories have been told, retold, and reimagined in countless ways. At the heart of this narrative evolution lies the concept of a "remake". A successful remake allows us to revisit cherished tales through a fresh lens, often reflecting a different era's perspective or harnessing the power of advanced technology. Yet, the question remains, what makes a remake successful? Today, we will delve deeper into this subject, identifying the key ingredients that contribute to the success of a remake.
From the Editor's Desk: 115th Father's day Celebration - When we see Father's day in Hindu context, Nanda Baba is the most vivid figure which comes to the mind. Nanda Baba who was the foster father of Lord Krishna is known to provide love, care and affection to Lord Krishna and Balarama along with his wife Yashoda; Letter’s to the Editor: Mother's Day - Mother is a precious life for their children. Mother is life breath for her children. Mother's lap is the world happiness whose debt can never be paid.
As a film director, I have always been awestruck by the magic of animation. Animation, a medium once considered solely for the amusement of children, has undergone a significant transformation over the years. Its evolution from a rudimentary form of entertainment to a sophisticated form of storytelling has stirred my creativity and expanded my vision, offering limitless possibilities in the realm of cinematic storytelling.
Meet Crazyjamjam - A TikTok Sensation | Blog EternalBlog Eternal
Crazyjamjam, the TikTok star everyone's talking about! Uncover her secrets to success, viral trends, and more in this exclusive feature on Blog Eternal.
Source: https://blogeternal.com/celebrity/crazyjamjam-leaks/
Meet Crazyjamjam - A TikTok Sensation | Blog Eternal
Fiddler - H. Courreges LeBlanc
1. Fiddler
By H. Courreges LeBlanc
illustration by Shelton Bryant
3 December 2001
November always dragged around the station, but today was one dead Sunday. Not one car pulled off the
interstate all morning. Nothing hit the drive but a thin steady rain, puddling slow rainbows in the oil. Me and
Harnie just tilted back our chairs against the cigarette rack, watched the monster movie, and waited for the
game to start. The big flying turtle was about set to barbeque downtown Tokyo when the drive bell rang, and
up sluiced a car so damn gorgeous it hurt to look at it. A '37 Buick Roadmaster it was, painted a red so rich it
was nearly black, that straight eight engine whispering like a lover while teardrops of rain rolled down the
chrome grill.
Out climbed this tall fellow, dressed like God's grandpa done up for a wedding or a funeral. His skin was
brown as a buckwheat cake, with creases deep as drainage ditches. Took a mighty long stretch of sweat and
toil, love and birth and dying, to carve a face like that. He flexed his shoulders, then rolled his neck till it
cracked. He pulled a pack of Camel straights from inside his vest and flipped one out.
"Got a light?" His voice was deep and warm, half gravel, half honey.
I tossed him a pack of matches through the open door; he caught it left-handed, then flipped it open, folded
over a match, and struck it with his thumb.
"This the town with the dead fiddler?" he said after a long drag on the smoke.
1
2. "You might say so," I said, ignoring the look Harnie gave me. Nobody talked about her; I wondered how this
fellow had even heard about her. "Ain't a fiddle, though. It's a cello, like in the symphony."
The stranger shrugged. "Close enough."
"She ain't d-dead, neither," Harnie said. "M-more sleeping, like."
He puffed out a wreath of smoke. Then another. "Let's go wake her up," he said.
"You best not try, mister," I said. "She been sleeping for thirty some year."
The man grinned. "I'm feeling lucky today. C'mon, boys, let's go."
"Mister, I sure hope you ain't as lucky as you feel. Woman like that, best not woke at all."
"You scared?" the stranger said.
"Damn right I am," I said. "You'd be too, if you knew."
"I just want to see her, is all."
"She ain't no damn tourist attraction. You wanna play tourist, get back in that car of yours and drive on up to
Graceland. North on 55, three, four hours."
"I'm no tourist," the stranger said. "You can't spook me." He stepped over the sill through wreaths of smoke,
and leaned against the rack of pork rinds.
"Look here, mister," I said. "You see how Harnie ain't got no right hand?"
"M-muh-" Harnie said. "M-my f-f--"
"Take it easy, Harnie," I said, laying my hand on his shoulder. "I'll tell it."
Harnie scowled and grabbed the remote to turn down the sound of Tokyo roasting. Then he tilted back and
scowled at me again.
"Me and Harnie was just kids," I said, turning back to the stranger. "Thirteen, fourteen, know what I mean?
Harnie fell in love with the lady the day she come to town."
"Y-you too."
"Sure," I said.
"When was that?"
"Back in the late sixties," I said. "Don't remember the date."
"The d-day they sh-shot Dr. K-King," Harnie said. "She was b-beautif-ful."
"Sure she was," I said. "Skin like the moon, hair black with red highlights."
"Like y-yer car," Harnie said.
2
3. I hadn't noticed that. "Guess so," I said. "Anyway, she was wearing this long white dress kinda thing, and at
first we figured she was just another of them hippie gals hitchhiking to the Mardi Gras, come to sleep in the
park."
"L-lots of hippies," Harnie said.
"Sure," I said. "They was everywhere back then. But this 'un was different. She took that cello out of her case,
opened up her legs, and snugged it up against her."
"She was s-so-so b--"
"Yeah," I said. "Harnie and I was on our bikes, just watching her wrap her fingers across the strings. She
sighed just then, and looked up at Harnie and me with them green eyes of hers."
"B-blue," Harnie said.
"They was green, Harnie," I said.
"B-bl--"
"Dammit, Harnie..."
"What happened next?" the fellow said.
I looked down at the counter. All that smoke of his was stinging my eyes. "She smiled at us."
"Ah," the fellow said. The rain whispered steady on the concrete, the smell of its mist cutting through Camel
straights and wasted fuel. "Ah."
"Then she sighed again, her smile melted away, and she shut her eyes. She just sat there, cello snuggled
between her knees, and didn't move at all. Not then, nor ever again neither."
"What about his hand?"
"I-I-I--"
"Dammit, Harnie," I said. "Don't get all riled. I'm telling it."
Harnie blushed and nodded.
"Well, me and Harnie just sat there watching her -- heck, we wasn't moving no more than she was. We sat
there all afternoon, watching folks not see her."
"They st-still don't, m-mostly," Harnie said.
"Come nightfall, Harnie and I was just about fit to bust. We walked up to her, as close as close can be."
"H-h-heard her b-breathe."
"Yeah," I said. "I reached out and nudged her shoulder, but she didn't move. Then Harnie laid his hand on
hers, the one she had wrapped round the neck of the cello."
3
4. "But she still didn't move," the stranger said.
"Right," I said. "She didn't move no matter what we did. Finally, though, Harnie reached down and plucked
one of the strings. Just a little pluck like. Just to see." Boy, my mouth was dry, rain or no rain. "Reach me a
soda, would ya mister?"
He went over to the cooler and grabbed three Big Shot pineapple sodas. He handed one to me and slid another
over to Harnie. Then he reached inside his vest again and laid a fiver on the counter. "My treat," he said.
"Thanks," I said.
He popped the top and took a pull at the soda. "Ahh," he sighed in satisfaction. "I've missed this. Can't get 'em
where I been."
"Where you from?" I asked.
"Round here," he said. "But I been away."
"Whereabouts?"
He smiled then, a sad smile. "What happened when Harnie plucked that string?"
I took a pull at the soda. "Not sure I can explain it. It was just a little plunk, like. One quiet little note. You
couldn't hardly hear it. But that sound cut me to the heart." I took another pull at my soda. "I can still hear it. I
lay in bed, nights, staring at the ceiling, listening to it."
"And Harnie's hand?"
"Harnie's hand... well, it just lit up. At first it was like he was holding a flashlight to his palm. Then it was
shining, painful bright, till finally it was showering sparks like a Roman candle. Didn't smell like it was
burning or nothing, though. It smelled like, I don't know..."
"Flowers," Harnie whispered.
"And all the time that fountain of light was eating away his hand, Harnie was laughing. Just laughing."
"Didn't it hurt?" the stranger asked.
"Flowers," Harnie whispered again.
"And nobody even noticed!" I said. "They'd just walk right past us -- Harnie's hand spitting a rooster-tail of
sparks ten foot over our heads -- and they'd say 'howdy, boys' without a second glance. We both stood there
staring at Harnie's arm till the stump sizzled out, and quite a spell longer too. Finally we headed home."
"What did your folks say about Harnie's arm?"
"Our daddy been gone since we was babies. And Mama acted like Harnie ain't never had but the one arm."
"Ev-ev'rybody," Harnie said.
"Sure," I said. "We asked Doc Harrison, he said Harnie was born that way. Pretty soon we stop asking. And
they see the lady sit there, day in, day out, but don't think nothing of it."
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