She's Hour: A Narrative Fiction

She flew on. The rain beat at her wings and her eyes were blinded, but Marya Lechowicz knew she had to reach the house before dawn. This was it. The final stretch after months of preparation, training, test flying, goodbyes, disguises and hideouts.

The traditional outlook on life has dissipated in modern years. Men were usually the ones who worked to support the family and maintained a steady income to make the family financially stable. On the contrary, women were expected to raise the children, prepare meals and keep a tidy house. For most, this was the ideal life style that worked effectively. Throughout Gail Godwin's short story, "A Sorrowful Woman", the character is a component of a troubled family. Furthermore in the short story, "The Story of an Hour" written by Kate Chopin, the protagonist, Mrs. Mallard is notified with information that is life altering. A characters motivation drives a story towards the authors intended theme through the actions taken and emotions

“I’m going to kill you.” It’s a threat. A threat he will, most likely carry out, but there’s something in his expression that tells me differently. It’s something that doesn’t make sense with his personality. It’s fear. A fear I know all to well. Fear that he’ll be left here to die and no one will care. The same kind of fear I’ve experienced.

Flashes of memory rapidly traveled though Allie’s mind; those captivating eyes and that beautiful, alluring smile; suddenly, she was transported back to that past December day, standing there on Meeting Street. Swiftly, Thomas was upon her; his lips on hers were hot with need as he took her mouth with his. Allie heard quick intakes of breath and grunts of disapproval from somewhere in the room. It was very inappropriate for them to kiss this way in public, but she did not care; she returned Thomas’s kiss with a fervor that matched his.

Steve knew his idea of what a date was supposed to be had been shaped by movies made generations ago, but still he had always had the dream of one day taking a beautiful person to a musical extravaganza on Broadway and then a fancy restaurant with soft jazz and white tablecloths and obsequious waiters. He had never really expected to be able to afford such an evening. Now that he could, he wasn’t letting the opportunity pass by.

The Story of an Hour, makes for a very interesting literary analysis piece. In the story of “The Story of an Hour.” A woman with heart problems receives news that her husband has died in a work-related incident. At first the woman know as Mrs. Mallard is distraught about the news of her husband’s death, but as she goes away to be alone to cry, she begins to feel a creeping feeling, the feeling of joy and freeness. Mrs. Mallard later decides to return to the living room, and just then Mrs. Mallard’s thought to be dead husband walks through the door, unaware of the ordeal.

Maria lay there for a moment, gazing up at Jack, her heart still pounding and her breath still stuck in her throat. He was dressed in a ragged white shirt covered and smeared in bits of dirt, patched brown pants, and a rough gray jacket; he walked barefoot, his feet stuck with pieces of mud and grass. But his face was what caught Maria’s eye. He was the most handsome boy she had ever seen. His face was finely shaped, and set with a pair of radiant eyes that gazed down at her, glowing like crystal balls in the moonlight.

Louise Mallard’s ironic death captures the true meaning of Chopin’s piece “The story of an Hour”. First, Louise’s introduction to the audience was depressing, introducing her as this poor old woman ‘afflicted with a heart trouble’. In addition to the unfortunate news of her husband’s untimely demise, her sister Josephine’s ‘broken sentences’ added insult to injury not only, was Mrs. Mallard feeble but evidently, she was also a child. Despite this tragedy, Louise merely mourned for a moment then, became overwhelmed with joy finally, she was free. Surprisingly her joy comes to an end due to her husband’s sudden appearance at the front door. Similarly, to the satirical work “Death of a salesman” by David Mammoth, Chopin’s “The story of an Hour”

My foot is getting swollen from being up here for so long. I think it might have been early this morning when I decided to forage around the forest then I stepped in this weird trap sort of thing and now I’m stuck. I need Sophie to come and help me now. I then start making loud shrieks to get her attention. Still nothing. I keep making them and keep making them higher as I do so. I was sure this would be the end, then suddenly I heard someone. Sophie, it must be Sophie. I start making my shrieking noises again and she pops out and takes a good look at me. I was so happy to see her. She then said,

“Why does everyone keep asking me that question?” Colleen asked as Nana walked across the library and gave her a tight hug. She was really sick of her friends disappearing when there were ghosts and critters about. Honestly, she was going to have gray hairs soon.

My heart suddenly dropped and I closed my eyes as soon as possible shouting out NO. I reached my hand out and reversed time back to when we were laying on the train tracks. I stood up as soon as I realized what had happened and my nose was bleeding, I felt faint.

They’ll leave a silent sob loitering in the back of your throat, a burn that fights before being extinguished.

She stumbles into the river, down the river, into the deep, blue, sea. Come little bird, sing and fly, give me your wish, I am worthy. She carved love from the old oak tree in the water, more powerful than anything. The hope and fate in her arose, and began to breath, she ran so fast, so fast, not knowing where she was going. The shadows around her awoke, she ran more, more, but she couldn't escape. Now she was awake, lying in her bed, it had been a dream, but it felt so real, it felt like an adventure that she’d had before. She never understood the power that lied within

Spilling, as it falls, the ghost of good intentions that rotted with time. There will be the whispers of Christmas spent on dusty pull out sofa beds at her grandmothers. Of deviant, dark desires and deeds done under open skys and dying hayfields. The lies... hers and mine, will worm their way into her pillows and subsequently, her dreams. Finally, her last token, every whiskey shot or mouth her tongue touches will forever taste of my

Women and Men having different aspects on life. The stories that have been read women wrote about how they did not like their husbands. The men in the stories typically wrote about different struggles throughout their travels or about gambling, literally anything. Women and men wrote differently, for instance their messages they portray are different. There is one thing that pops up that they had in common, and it was they wrote about their everyday lives.In the Story of an Hour represents personal freedom, To Build a Fire shows adventure, and Wagner Maintee showed sacrifice. The messages of the stories, different aspects of life, and the way they view their everyday lives are how the write different and similar