标签:短篇小说 相关文章
She started out the door and saw Alden's hat, the one with the fur-lined ear flaps, hanging on one of the pegs in the entry. She put it onthe bill came all the way down to her shaggy salt-and-pepper eyebrowsand then looked around one last time to see
The Open Window MY aunt will be down presently, Mr. Nuttel, said a very self-possessed young lady of fifteen; in the meantime you must try and put up with me. Framton Nuttel endeavoured to say the correct something which should duly flatter the niece
Chapter III. IN the huge new cemetery, some two miles distant, the old people buried their dead, and came back to a house steeped in shadow and silence. It was all over so quickly that at first they could hardly realize it, and remained in a state of
'Athenaise,' by Kate Chopin 英语短篇小说:《Athenaise》 by 凯特肖邦 Our story today is called Athenaise. It was written by Kate Chopin. Here is Barbara Klein with the story. Athenaise went away one morning to visit her parents, ten miles b
Rawdon was the sort of man who said, privately, to his men friends, over a glass of wine after dinner: No woman shall sleep again under my roof! He said it with pride, rather vaunting, pursing his lips. Even my housekeeper goes home to sleep. But the
Chapter 1 It was a mile nearer through the wood. Mechanically, Syson turned up by the forge and lifted the field-gate. The blacksmith and his mate stood still, watching the trespasser. But Syson looked too much a gentleman to be accosted. They let hi
V It was I think already near midnight when the little old man and Vasily, who had gone after the runaway horses, rode up to us. They had managed to catch the horses and to find and overtake us; but how they had managed to do this in the thick blindi
6 Now, two bad hours after leaving Washington National, things had suddenly gotten a lot worse, and with shocking suddenness. The runway lights had gone out, but Dees now saw that wasn't all that had gone out half of Wilmington and all of Wrightsvill
IVE seen some things. I was going over to my mothers to stay a few nights. But just as I got to the top of the stairs, I looked and she was on the sofa kissing a man. It was summer. The door was open. The TV was going. Thats one of the things Ive see
MY friend Mel McGinnis was talking. Mel McGinnis is a cardiologist, and sometimes that gives him the right. The four of us were sitting around his kitchen table drinking gin. Sunlight filled the kitchen from the big window behind the sink. There were
IVAN YEGORITCH KRASNYHIN, a fourth-rate journalist, returns home late at night, grave and careworn, with a peculiar air of concentration. He looks like a man expecting a police-raid or contemplating suicide. Pacing about his rooms he halts abruptly,
Chapter 1 Through the gloom of evening, and the flare of torches of the night before the fair, through the still fogs of the succeeding dawn came paddling the weary geese, lifting their poor feet that had been dipped in tar for shoes, and trailing th
It was bright morning. The sun shone down on the damp lawns and sidewalks, reflecting off the sparkling parked cars. The Clerk came walking hurriedly, leafing through his instructions, flipping pages and frowning. He stopped in front of the small gre
They crossed the street together, Ruth holding on tight to Ed's arm. Ahead of them was the building, the towering structure of concrete and metal and glass. There it is, Ruth said. See? There it was, all right. The big building rose up, firm and soli
On December the third, the wind changed overnight, and it was winter. Until then the autumn had been mellow, soft. The leaves had lingered on the trees, golden-red, and the hedgerows were still green. The earth was rich where the plow had turned it.
The End of the Whole Mess by Stephen King Read by Matthew Broderick I want to tell you about the end of war, the degeneration of mankind, and the death of the Messiah - an epic story, deserving thousands of pages and a whole shelf of volumes, but you
The Long Rain THE rain continued. It was a hard rain, a perpetual rain, a sweating and steaming rain; it was a mizzle, a downpour, a fountain, a whipping at the eyes, an undertow at the ankles; it was a rain to drown all rains and the memory of rains
She must have had a bad fright. I didnt take such a severe view of her conduct as Mrs Low. She was very young; she was not more than thirty-five now. Who could tell by what accident she had become J.s mistress? I suspect that love had caught her unaw
It all started in the bathroom in the back of the bookstore in Florinna, Alabama, the store owner Mrs. Horne gesturing magnificently at the blank wall and talking about Arabian stallions, and the mural painter, Lucy, backed up against the toilet, nod
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimon