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Fahrenheit 451: A Short Story

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"Why don't you do something...productive? Perhaps watch television?" "That's a waste of my time, sir." The psychiatrist sighed and put down his clipboard. Clarisse watched him go through the motions of taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples with his left hand. Every week she sees this and knows exactly why he does it. She wouldn't cooperate, they said. She's not like the others, they said. This girl will not budge for the life of it! (italicise) The doctors and nurses exclaimed. It doesn't matter to her. She's the captain of her own ship, and she is the one who decides what leaves her mind through her mouth. However, what she will tell the doctors, is that she likes feeling. Feeling, touching, smelling, experiencing (italicise). To …show more content…

Ignorant of the world around him, how destroyed it was. Although, Clarisse could tell that he wasn't sure of it. He was not sure of the world around him and kept that to himself. He smelled of kerosene and doubt. He asked her name, and she responded. Guy Montag was his. "How old are you?" "Well, I'm seventeen and crazy. My uncle says the two always go together. When people ask your age, he said, always say seventeen and insane. Isn't it a nice time of night to walk? I like to smell things and look at things, and sometimes stay up all night, walking, and watch the sun rise." She paused for a moment, and they continued walking. She then added, "You know, I'm not afraid of you at all." That threw Montag in for a loop. She could see it in his eyes, the way his brows so suddenly came together. He was hesitant. The two walked for a little while longer until they reached her house. Clarisse saw her aunts and uncles together chatting it up in the parlor. She then left Montag at the front of the lawn and ran up to her door. Reaching the knob, with her fingers ever so slightly grazing the metal she remembered something. With a slight twist of her hair, she turned to look at him curiously, "Are you

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