Personal Narrative: Someone Else's Cleats

The following passage is an excerpt from Katherine Anne Porter’s short story “The Jilting of Granny Weatherall.” Read the passage carefully. Then write an essay in which you analyze how such choices as figurative language, imagery, and dialogue develop the complex emotions the character is feeling.

As Booker flicked through the pages of a gossip magazine, he unconsciously fell into a synchronized rhythm with the audible ticking of the wall clock. Each page turned was another second passed, and he had just about exhausted all the reading material in the waiting room of his local doctor. Tom had been in the examination room for nearly an hour and throughout the interminably long wait, the muscles in his neck and shoulders had become increasingly taut until his upper body throbbed painfully from the tension. Closing the magazine, he tossed it onto the table with a weary sigh and maneuvering his head slowly from side to side, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and attempted to massage away some of the stiffness in his muscles. The clock continued its cyclic tick, tock, tick, tock and just as he was contemplating jumping to his feet and ripping it from the wall, the exam room door opened.

Could we get to the ball? If we don’t get the ball they well recover it. It was one of our first games in September. Our record was one, one and one. That means we won once, lost once, and tied once. It was at Unity Field (Home). We were started at 4:30.

Laurianna Atkins tripped over a stack of magazines in the middle of her room, bumped her leg against the dresser, and dropped her books on the floor. “Ouch my leg!” She howled, “This room is a mess!”

The inn keeper's parlor was the best in town, they told her. His wife was wearing a heavy dress, adorned with lace and a massive broach that she raised a plump hand to touch, as if to be certain it was still there. They spoke of the massive rug, bought from Paris, and the finely crafted furniture they all sat upon. The preacher listened quietly, smiling as though their vanity wasn't a sin, while Mrs. Hartford eyed the dress with longing. Della thought that the dress was tasteless. The lace was poorly made, and the line of the bodice wasn't flattering. The fabric was an odd shade between blue and green, and the woman inside it was far less appealing. She didn't bother to mention that her own parlor had been filled with crystal, and priceless art her father had collected around the world. She didn't mention that her toys had cost more than Mrs. Johnson's gowns, or that she was mispronouncing the tea they'd been served. Not to be kind, not to be deceptive, but because did not matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. She'd given up that life to marry Ben, given up her family, given up her home and her gowns and her education.

Every morning the legless man parked his wheelchair in front of the donut shop. He wore an army camouflage jacket, the name Larson over the right pocket, a Purple Heart and a Viet Nam service medal over the left, on the sleeve an infantry unit patch and sergeant stripes.

Sarah slugged through the early morning work and realized-too soon- that she needed to make a trip to the house. She made her way, clasping her arms around her for warmth in the cold November morning. Painted Girl’s borrowed sweater did not help dissipate the cold air, and neither did the lingering whiskey in her system. A light shone in the window illuminating Grandfather and Dingle, who sat at the table together eating pie. She watched as Dingle grabbed a juicy strawberry from Grandfather’s pie and nibbled at it greedily. Grandfather must have finished his hunt early, Sarah realized. She had hoped to avoid Grandfather today but nature called. There was no choice, either the woods or the house. Sarah did an about turn and went for the

       As the tale begins we immediately can sympathize with the repressive plight of the protagonist.  Her romantic imagination is obvious as she describes the "hereditary estate" (Gilman, Wallpaper 170) or the "haunted house" (170) as she would like it to be.  She tells us of her husband, John, who "scoffs" (170) at her romantic sentiments and is "practical to the extreme" (170).  However, in a time

When she drew back the curtain, she could make out a homemade, pole-framed-bed in the middle of the room. The light coming through the small window gave the room a murky appearance. Upon the bed, under several layers of quilts, were the skeletal remains of the cabin’s former owner. Before she even got near the bed, she knew it was a

I never thought I would be labeled an outsider, a misfit even. As I trudged my way through the halls of my small town high school, I would endure the gazing pairs of eyes, that belonged to my peers, followed by whispering and often times some laughter. I always used zone out during those repetitive speeches and commercials about the effects of gossiping and rumors; never did I imagine that one day I would be on the receiving end of of the everyday potshot. Growing up I was always the center of attention, the one everyone yearned to be friends with, never was I the antisocial child in the corner with nowhere to turn… not until high school. They say high school changes you. They say high school accounts for some of the greatest years of

It was record breaking temperatures on this July 4th day. Red, white, and blue filling up the stands. Fans and umbrellas protecting spectators from the heat of the sun. It was about game time and I was getting ready to take the field for the last home game. Butterflies in my stomach, but I had to tell myself “it’s just another game”. Even though in my heart I knew it was not just another game.

I was pulling on my running tights this morning and a memory instantly hit me like a sudden jolt from a sound sleep. As I slid my right leg into my running tights, my brain flashed to 20 years prior to my very first pair.

Spring break, a time to take a break from school and go on vacation. This year my girlfriend and her family took me to Kentucky. I was so happy. I just love the south. The people there are just so nice they truly have “Southern Hospitality”. My girlfriend and I packed up to get ready for our long trip to the south. We woke up super early to get a head start, we put our bags in the cars and headed to go eat at Mcdonalds to get something in our stomachs. Then we headed off out of Indiana to Kentucky! We saw so many beautiful buildings and so many places about food. Once we got to Kentucky we went to an aquarium and saw so many fish and ocean life creatures it was awesome. We ate at many places like, Waffle House, Cheesecake Factory, and Fatboys.

Baghdad, Iraq is where I was born and raised; I lived there for about 6 years during the most pivotal years of the war. My dad left when I was about 7 months. He went to Lebanon to live for a few years before settling in the United States. My mom took care of me and my siblings. War was going on in Iraq; people walked with a dying heart. Iraq was split into Shiite, Sunni, and Christianity. Sunni and Shiite do not have any issues with one another, but there are people who do not like the Shiites and caused civil strife between the two divisions of Islam. My family is Shiite and we do not believe in a separation between anyone because we are one, they are

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.