微型小说续写练习
微型小说猜读续写练习读下面删去了结尾的微型小说，从小说的内容、情节出发，展开想象，猜测后文，写出结尾，200字左右扔掉可惜我左手因事故彻底毁掉了。
本来早已死心塌地就这么着终此一生了，可是有一次身边传来了这方面的喜讯。
据云：有个医治伤残的最新式医院，可以将身体失掉的某一部分修复如初。
于是我便决定试一下。
医院是座洁白而干净的大厦。
院长是个有点神经质、面部苍白而削瘦的男子。
“只要把左手进行移植手术，就能修复得完好如初！不过，这要花费好大一笔费用呢！”“花多少钱都无所谓！拜托了……可是从哪儿弄到这一只手呢？是假肢，还是什么？”“别担心！当然是用您自己的手了！‘克隆’这玩意儿您知道吗？”所谓的“克隆”，是通过细胞增殖手段制造“复制人”的技术。
在人的基因中因为含有制造人类的信息，所以如将其培养，理论上，是可以制造出同一个人来的……“咦？这医院就是制造克隆人的？那就是说，从我这只手的切除部位可以重新长出一只新手出来罗！对吧？！”“不对。
那是不可能的。
培养的细胞，需要特殊的条件，并不是把您整个身体都浸到那种培养液中去。
”“那，该怎么做呢？”“使用克隆技术，重新制造左手，然后把它进行移植。
反正是自己的肉体，所以移植大多是成功的。
”院长用手术刀采了我身上的细胞。
他一边往一只箱子上贴标签，一边说：“好了！制成左手尚需3个月时间。
到时候会通知你的，那时请求您再来。
”3个月后，手术进行得很顺利，终于成功了。
虽然是只多少有点显得白嫩的手，但手的活动自如同前。
“院长，太谢谢你了。
不愧是高超的技术啊！”可是院长却一脸的心事重重的样子。
“怎么，有什么问题吗？也许今后会有什么副作用？”“不，不是因为这个。
”“这不是蛮好吗？这不，左手已经完好如初了嘛！”“不过，这技术的费用过于巨大了呀！照这样下去，不是谁能负担得起的呀！”“唔，原来是为了这个呀！不过，过不了多久，费用会逐渐降低的，不是吗？”“是啊，要是能减少浪费的话嘛，多少还总算是……”院长那苍白的脸上，眉宇之间皱起一个川字。
院长的这番话，勾起了我的好奇心，便刨根问底地询问院长。
于是院长终于泄露了秘密。
“是这么回事儿。
……给希望留点空间西西里监狱是一级监狱，虽然坐落在城市的中央，但却感受不到丝毫的繁华与自由。
卡洛奇自杀过很多次，可惜，狱警连他自杀的权利都给剥夺了。
卡洛奇已经在这个小房间呆了整整三年，只有每周放风时能看看“外面的世界”。
越狱是绝对不可能，他唯一想做的就是下地狱，因为西西里监狱比地狱更折磨人。
唯一的方式便是挑衅奥多姆，只要得罪这个狱霸，然后挨上一拳就差不多了。
周五下午，一切都进展得很顺利，可就在卡洛奇靠近奥多姆那一刻，整个放风场一片惊呼，不知是谁第一个发现，远处高楼上有一女郎翘首而望，虽然并不确定美女正在观看放风，但寂寞太久的犯人们却已是欢天喜地，似乎那女郎就是属于他们的。
卡洛奇突然想起了自己的妻子，萨利，也是这般让男人着迷，她大概恨死自己了吧。
那天，直到放风结束，卡洛奇也没有丝毫行动，因为他决定再给妻子写一封信，把自己的愧疚之情告诉她后再行动。
再一次放风的时候，卡洛奇怎么也没想到，远处的高楼上再次出现一个女郎，手里还举着一个牌子，上面是是卡洛奇的名字，后面还有一个鲜艳的红唇。
卡洛奇的心似乎一下子复活了，因为那女郎正是萨利，没想到只是在信上稍微提及放风时的感受，她便不远千里地赶到这座城市，只为给卡洛奇点燃希望。
接下来的日子，卡洛奇又不断的收到萨利回信，她说她每周都会在高楼处看他，她会等他出来，永远。
这就是爱情，这才是人生，卡洛奇心中似乎有一股热浪在冲击，他发誓，一定好好表现，尽早爬上那座高楼，将心爱的萨利拥进怀里。
卡洛奇没有让萨利失望，就在当年，他就因为荣立一等功而获得减刑，接下来的几年，又因为他的出色表现和不断的立功而受到监狱的优待，并最终获得狱外执刑的机会。
那段口子，卡洛奇并没有写信把好消息传出去，而是等到出狱，好好修饰一番后，在星期五那天兴冲冲地爬上那座高楼，他要给自己爱的人一个惊喜。
母亲最近，母亲觉得要少去看她的儿子才好。
以前在校门口匆匆见一面，匆匆塞给儿子零食和钱，就说说，该回去了。
儿子说再聊一会儿吧，眼神却飘忽不定。
母亲笑笑，转身，横穿马路，汇入人群中。
常常走出不远，又躲在一棵树后面偷偷回头。
她想再看看儿子，哪怕是背影。
儿子却不见了。
儿子像在逃离，逃离母亲的关切。
母亲有个读大学的儿子，高大英俊，学生会干部，有奖学金。
并且她知道，最近，儿子正在偷偷恋爱。
她曾远远地看过那姑娘一眼，瘦瘦高高，和儿子很是般配。
她不知道儿子和姑娘在一起会聊些什么，但她想应该不会谈到自己。
一个收废品的母亲，有什么好谈的呢？母亲想，既然她不能给儿子带来骄傲和荣耀，那么，就算儿子说她已经过世，她都不会计较。
今天，她很想见儿子一面。
其实，每天，她都想见儿子一面。
今天，她有了充足的借口。
乡下老家人送她一小袋红薯，个儿大皮儿薄,脆生生的喜人。
煮熟了，香甜的红瓤化成蜜，直接淌进咽喉里。
母亲挑了几个大的，煮熟，装进保温桶，又在外面包了棉衣，然后骑上她的三轮车，给儿子送来。
儿子从小就爱吃红薯，一路上母亲偷偷地笑。
她想，应该叮嘱儿子给姑娘留两个。
尽管城里满街都是烤红薯，可这是不一样的。
这是老家的红薯，有着别处所没有的香甜滑嫩。
这是冬天，街上的积雪未及清理，就被车轮和行人轧实，变成光滑的冰面。
家离学校约5公里，雪还在下，母亲头顶白花花一片，分不清是白发还是雪花。
她把三轮车在街角停下，想到马上就能见到儿子，母亲再一次偷偷地笑了。
所以，她没有注意到开过来的一辆轿车。
车子在冰面上滑行好几米才停下来。
司机摁响了喇叭，母亲一惊，忙往旁边躲闪，却打一个趔趄，然后滑倒。
她慌慌张张爬起，未及站稳，又一次摔倒。
她的手里，仍然稳稳地抱着那个保温桶。
她的脸被一块露出冰面的玻璃碴儿划开一条口子，现在，已经流出了血。
司机吓坏了。
他说，我得陪你去医院看看。
母亲笑笑说，没事。
司机说可是你的脸在流血……在流血吗？母亲变了表情。
果然，汽车的反光镜里，她看到自己流血的脸。
她想这样的脸，怎么去见我的儿子呢？司机看着母亲，好像除了脸上的伤口，她真的没事。
司机便掏出两百块钱和一张名片。
这上面有我的电话，他说，随时可打电话给我。
母亲一只手抱着保温桶，一只手推搡着名片和钱。
突然她停下来，认真地对司机说，你真的想帮我吗？如果你真的想帮我，那么，能不能请你，把这个保温桶转交给我的儿子……他在这个大学读书，他功课很好……母亲指了指那座气派的教学楼，脸上露着骄傲的表情。
片刻之后司机在校门口见到母亲的儿子。
的确是一位英俊的男孩，又高又壮，穿着宽大的毛衣和洒脱的牛仔裤。
司机将保温桶递给男孩子，说，你妈让我带给你的。
男孩说，哦。
眼睛紧张地盯着校园里一条卵石小路。
小路上站着一位高高瘦瘦的长发女孩。
司机提醒他说，是煮红薯。
你妈让你先吃一个……她说，还热着。
男孩突然想起一个问题……父亲我正准备接一个电话的时候，外面有人敲门，我开了门，是父亲来了。
我从父亲手里接过一个很大的纸箱。
电话是朋友打来的，约我中午小酌。
父亲说，你有事要出去？我就说是朋友约吃中饭。
不过，不着急。
我打开纸箱，里面，塞满烙得金黄的发面烧饼。
我想起又该七月七了。
我们这里风俗：七月七，烙花吃。
花，即发面烧饼。
以前在老家，每逢七月七这天，心灵手巧的母亲都会烙出满锅金灿灿香喷喷的烧饼，当我进城以后，母亲便会将烙烧饼的时间提前几天，然后打发父亲将烧饼送到城里。
老家距城市，不过两小时车程，然似乎，我总是没有回家的时间。
和父亲喝了一会儿茶，电话再一次响起。
我跟父亲说，我们一起过去。
父亲惊了表情，说，这怎么行？我一个乡下人，怎好跟你的文化界朋友吃饭？我说那有什么？正好把您介绍给他们。
父亲一听更慌了，说不去不去，那样不仅我会拘束，你的朋友们也会拘束。
我说难道您来一趟，连顿饭也不吃？父亲说没事没事，回乡下吃，赶趟。
我说干脆这样，我下厨，咱俩在家里做点吃的算了，我这就打电话跟他们说。
父亲急忙将我阻拦。
他说做人得讲诚信，答应人家的事情，再失约，多不礼貌……你去吃饭，我正好回乡下——乡下好多事呢。
我说您如果真不去的话，我也不去了……当爹的进城给儿子送烧饼，儿子却没管饭，等我回村，别人还不把我骂死？……再说，我早就想跟您吃顿饭了。
费尽九牛二虎之力，终与父亲达成协议——偷偷在那个酒店另开一个只属于我和父要的小包房。
这样，我就既能照顾朋友面子，又能陪父亲吃一顿饭了。
父亲倒是勉强同意，但路上还是一个劲地嘱咐我别点菜，就要两盘水饺就行了——一人一盘，聊聊天，多好。
去了，小包间正好被安排在朋友请客的大包厢的隔壁，我没敢惊动朋友，悄悄帮父亲点好菜，又对父亲说，等菜上来，您慢点吃，我去那边稍坐片刻，马上回。
父亲说那你快点儿啊！还有，千万别说你爹就在隔壁啊！我笑了。
父亲与刚刚进城时的我，一样拘谨。
做东的朋友一连敬酒三杯，废话连篇。
我念着隔壁的父亲，心里有些着急。
我说要不我先敬大伙一杯酒吧，敬完我得失陪一会儿，有点事。
朋友说还没轮到你敬酒呢！我得连敬六杯，然后逆时针转圈……又没什么事，今天咱一醉方休。
我说可是我真有事。
朋友说给一个说得过去的理由，就放你走，否则，罚你六杯。
我笑笑，我说，我爹在隔壁。
满桌人全愣了。
我说今天我爹进城给我送烧饼，我把他硬拉过来。
让他过来坐，他死活不肯。
现在他一个人在隔壁，我想过去陪他一会儿。
朋友们长吁短叹，说你爹白养你这个儿子了，你这算什么？在隔壁给他弄个单号？虐待他？你愣着干什么快请他过来啊！我说他肯定不会过来。
如果你们不想让他拘束让他难堪，就千万不要拉他过来。
朋友说，那我们这些晚辈现在过去敬杯酒，这不过份吧？我说这挺好。
不过你们真想敬他一杯酒的话，就一起过去。
千万不要一个一个敬啊！他喝不了多少……朋友们全体离桌，奔赴隔壁……午夜热线“如果我给你四十万块钱，你同意和我离婚不？”赵闻是在凌晨三点四十二分对他妻子说这句话的。
那天晚上，赵闻躺在床上，辗转反侧怎么也睡不着。
后来，妻子醒了，问他身体是不是哪儿不舒服，赵闻突然说出了这样一句话。
赵闻的妻子并没有弄清这句话的分量，以为赵闻又是犯了文人发神经的毛病，嘀咕了一句“你说呢”便翻过身睡了过去。
赵闻没说。
赵闻这个想法产生于上周那个周末的午夜。
当时，赵闻被市电台邀请去做“午夜情感热线”的嘉宾。
赵闻是个作家。
虽然依然穷着，却浪了一些虚名，赵闻被请去的目的就是帮助那打进热线的听众解开情感的疙瘩。
赵闻是很健谈的。
由于知识的丰富，反应能力也特强。
他能在短时间里，将那些哭着笑着、喜着恨着意乱情迷的打进热线的人说得无话可说，又心服口服。
然而，就在这天晚上的午夜情感热线的节目即将结束时，他接到了一个叫欣欣的女孩打来的电话。
叫欣欣的女孩说她是个拥有上百万资产的女孩，为了爱情她和一个自以为靠得住、却是一无所有的男孩结了婚。
结婚的时间不长，她发现他却在外面与歌厅里的坐台小姐一块儿鬼混。
如何续写微型小说的结尾：临门一脚,掘地涌泉语文课件PPT
❖
《笔 记》
❖ 太阳照进来，教室里亮堂堂的。Ａ教授的心里也亮堂堂的。 他讲得很好，很精彩，很富有魅力。
❖ 这是他最得意的、曾轰动一时的论文专著《关于×××的设 想》。
❖ 教室里黑压压的一片脑袋，只听沙沙沙的写字声。末了，无 数只饥渴的眼睛亮闪闪地盯着他，他的嘴，他的脸成了无数条 直线的交点。他的声音更宏亮，表情更丰富，他简直在朗诵一 篇优美的散文。
子说，可他却无动于衷。 “有什么样的爸爸，就有什么样的儿子。”老大娘叹着气
说。
“真不像话！年轻力壮的小伙子坐着，却让老太太站在那
里！”我的声音已经很高了。
老大娘一会儿看着我，一会儿又看着那个小伙子。 “喂，你这小青年，”我终于忍不住碰他的肩膀，“说的
就是你哪，还不给老人让座！”
❖ 答案：“你拽这孩子干什么！”老大娘突然冲 我嚷起来，“你回家去教育自己的孩子好了， 我的孙子你可别管！”
说。她想，要是爸爸（确切地说是公公）还是这儿的政
委，或者她在“老头子”离休前就调到这儿来，他们怎
么敢给这样两间破房子？营房助理员是个老实巴交的小
伙子，李静想，这种人好对付，来点硬的就吓住了。
“我的要求也不过分，”她傲慢地仰起那张很漂亮的面
孔，“把我爸爸过去的房子分给我一半就行啦。”年轻
的营房助理员抠抠头皮说：“
使劲盯着窗外，仿佛生平头一回见到这辆无轨电车沿途经过的 街道似的。
我开口对老大娘说话了，其实是说给那个麻木不仁的小伙 子听的。
“唉，现在的年轻人可真缺乏教养！” “说得是啊，说得是啊，”老大娘点了点头，“就是没有
教养嘛！”
“学校里是怎样教他们的！”
“说得就是嘛，学校里是怎么教他们的？”老大娘同意我
的说法。 “大概他们的父母也是这种没教养的人。”我瞪着那小伙
半杯水里造波澜——微型小说结尾的鉴赏与续写(一)ppt
• 请比较以下两篇同学们续写的微型小 说结尾，并挑选其中一篇你喜欢的， 说说理由。
白的刺眼的无影灯已经亮了十个小时，所 有人都被这马拉松般的手术拖垮了。著名外科 专家在作最后的伤口缝合，小护士在一旁整理 器械。
手术台上是位肠癌患者，手术目的是切除 癌变部分。
他笑笑，说：“不。不上你那里——我找我 的女女友友。”他回头看看了女人一下。
他们两个人走到路灯灯下。 女人突然嚷了起来：“啊!” 他也不由抓住了女人的肩头，迎迎着着灯灯光光。他 的手指嵌进了女人的肉里。 他们的眼睛闪着光，他喊着：“约安!”把女 人抱了起来。
【点拨】文章的结尾出人意料，却又在 情理之中。本文言简义丰地写出了德军 剩下来的不只是满目疮痍的城市，可怜 的女人，战争摧毁了城市，更摧毁了人 的灵魂。这篇小说是文学性和思想性结 合的典范。
“九、十、十一……”小护士不敢相信— —怎么会少了一块纱布？她以为自己眼花了， 又数了一遍，还是十一块！她真的有些害怕 了……
请根据以上片段续写这篇微型小说，字数200字 以上。
她脸色苍白，颤抖着并又数了一遍，“九、十、 十一”还是十一块！她有些站不住了，弱弱地对 着正在缝合伤口的主刀医生说：“等等……好像 少了一块纱布……”原本安静的手术室又忙碌了 起来，每个人脸上都是豆大的汗珠。小护士站在 一旁，一遍又一遍地数，“九、十、十一……” 还是十一块！她急得眼泪都要出来了！只好重新 打开伤口，外科医生开始拆线，终于在病人的体 内发现了这块纱布，大家都松了一口气，纱布取 出后，伤口缝合完毕，小护士眉头也松了。
却又在情理之中，请从文中找出三处埋伏笔
——
的句子。
1.借项链时，佛来思
2.四处买项链时，珠宝店老板说“我
微型小说续写练习
微型小说猜读续写练习读下面删去了结尾的微型小说，从小说的内容、情节出发，展开想象，猜测后文，写出结尾，200字左右扔掉可惜我左手因事故彻底毁掉了。
本来早已死心塌地就这么着终此一生了，可是有一次身边传来了这方面的喜讯。
据云：有个医治伤残的最新式医院，可以将身体失掉的某一部分修复如初。
于是我便决定试一下。
医院是座洁白而干净的大厦。
院长是个有点神经质、面部苍白而削瘦的男子。
“只要把左手进行移植手术，就能修复得完好如初！不过，这要花费好大一笔费用呢！”“花多少钱都无所谓！拜托了……可是从哪儿弄到这一只手呢？是假肢，还是什么？”“别担心！当然是用您自己的手了！‘克隆’这玩意儿您知道吗？”所谓的“克隆”，是通过细胞增殖手段制造“复制人”的技术。
在人的基因中因为含有制造人类的信息，所以如将其培养，理论上，是可以制造出同一个人来的……“咦？这医院就是制造克隆人的？那就是说，从我这只手的切除部位可以重新长出一只新手出来罗！对吧？！”“不对。
那是不可能的。
培养的细胞，需要特殊的条件，并不是把您整个身体都浸到那种培养液中去。
”“那，该怎么做呢？”“使用克隆技术，重新制造左手，然后把它进行移植。
反正是自己的肉体，所以移植大多是成功的。
”院长用手术刀采了我身上的细胞。
他一边往一只箱子上贴标签，一边说：“好了！制成左手尚需3个月时间。
到时候会通知你的，那时请求您再来。
”3个月后，手术进行得很顺利，终于成功了。
虽然是只多少有点显得白嫩的手，但手的活动自如同前。
“院长，太谢谢你了。
不愧是高超的技术啊！”可是院长却一脸的心事重重的样子。
“怎么，有什么问题吗？也许今后会有什么副作用？”“不，不是因为这个。
”“这不是蛮好吗？这不，左手已经完好如初了嘛！”“不过，这技术的费用过于巨大了呀！照这样下去，不是谁能负担得起的呀！”“唔，原来是为了这个呀！不过，过不了多久，费用会逐渐降低的，不是吗？”“是啊，要是能减少浪费的话嘛，多少还总算是……”院长那苍白的脸上，眉宇之间皱起一个川字。
微型小说猜读续写训练
微型小说猜读续写训练【导引】优秀的小小说，大多具有构思精巧、意蕴深刻的特点，其结尾往往新颖别致，出奇制胜。
现在，请你在认真揣读原文（包括所附结尾）的基础上，合理地作出推断，大胆地驰骋想象，续写出不同于原作但同样成立的结尾。
只要开动脑筋，你的续篇，甚至有可能是超越原作、更胜一筹的。
要求：所写续篇符合情节发展的趋势，同时又有一定的新意。
新型的农村副业（美）马克·吐温“嘟，嘟，嘟——嘟！”开汽车的人谨慎地以每小时二十公里的速度，沿着农村公路行驶着，注意那些靠路边的农舍，他放慢速度，响了三次喇叭。
立刻一阵蜂拥，有几百只母鸡从门口跑出来，它们跟在鸭子后面，刚巧来到汽车路上。
赶快急刹车，但已经来不及了，车子滑过去，无法停住，已经在蜂拥的鸡群中冲出一条血路——鸭子停住，又返回去了，轧死了几只母鸡。
车主人心里很不安，把车开到路边，然后出了车厢。
一个非常愤怒的老人从农舍里跑出来，后面跟着一个傻乎乎的大约14岁的少年。
老人看到这个情景：两只鸡死了躺在路上，还有一只鸡轧坏了翅膀躺在尘埃里。
“一个人该这样子闯过别人门口吗？”他吼道。
他穿过马路，拾起那只被轧坏翅膀的鸡，气冲冲地一把拧断了它的脖子，然后转身冲着那个谋杀者，好像要再找几个脖子来拧断似的。
“为什么你不鸣响喇叭？”他质问。
“我做了，”车主人低声地说，“响了5次。
”老人回过头来问傻小子：“你听到了吗？”他用愤怒的语气问道。
那个男孩子摇摇头，好像为有人竟能轧死了鸡还来扯谎，而感到很难过似的。
“我要问你的姓名和地址，”鸡主人继续说，“到警局去，我们决不罢休……”“你听我说，”车主人说，“这些轧死的鸡，我愿意赔偿。
”“每只鸡不能少于3镑！”主人宣称。
“可是一只鸡一般价格还不到一镑。
”车主人说。
老人大发雷霆：“你自己看看，这是什么样的鸡？”他吼着，“方圆20里找不到这样好的鸡！你真走运，我的妻子不在家，不然的话，她会告诉你一些情况。
我告诉你，这里的鸡她只只都叫得出名字来。
小说续写作文6篇
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文档下载后可定制修改，请根据实际需要进行调整和使用，谢谢!并且，本店铺为大家提供各种类型的经典范文，如工作计划、工作报告、军训心得、学习心得、培训心得、条据文书、读后感、教学资料、作文大全、其他范文等等，想了解不同范文格式和写法，敬请关注!Download tips: This document is carefully compiled by this editor. I hope that after you download it, it can help you solve practical problems. The document can be customized and modified after downloading, please adjust and use it according to actual needs, thank you!Moreover, our store provides various types of classic sample essays, such as work plans, work reports, military training experiences, learning experiences, training experiences, doctrinal documents, post reading feedback, teaching materials, complete essays, and other sample essays. If you want to learn about different sample formats and writing methods, please stay tuned!小说续写作文6篇写作文是一个培养自己观察力和思考问题的机会，脱离实际的生活经验所写的作文缺乏现实性，无法引起读者的共鸣，以下是本店铺精心为您推荐的小说续写作文6篇，供大家参考。
微型小说结尾_conv
临门一脚掘地涌泉——如何续写微型小说的结尾微型小说是一种篇幅短小、选材精巧而结局却出人意料的短篇小说体裁。
微型小说应该具备三个特点：一、立意新奇；二、结构严密；三、结尾惊奇。
微型小说的结局又被人们称为“临门一脚的艺术”，如何续写好微型小说的结尾呢？第一，要弄懂原文的思路和特点。
示例1：阅读下面的微型小说《只要一半》，根据原文脉络、思想、语言风格，为小说续写恰当的结尾。
“这么小的房子只给我两间？”女军医杨静忿忿地说。
她想，要是爸爸（确切地说是公公）还是这儿的政委，或者她在“老头子”离休前就调到这儿来，他们怎么敢给这样两间破房子？营房助理员是个老实巴交的小伙子，李静想，这种人好对付，来点硬的就吓住了。
“我的要求也不过分，”她傲慢地仰起那张很漂亮的面孔，“把我爸爸过去的房子分给我一半就行啦。
”年轻的营房助理员抠抠头皮说：“”答案：您要哪一间呢？老政委过去住的就是这两间。
第二，善于捕捉暗示性信息，联系实际，展开大胆而合理的想象。
示例2：阅读下面的微型小说《鞋》，为小说续写一个恰当的结尾。
一天，两天，一个多月过去了，每当日落西山的时候，小鞋匠都忍不住要向路口张望，希望能从落日的余辉中看到那个高大的身影出现。
但是，他没有看到。
又是一个傍晚，一位瘦瘦的军人来到修鞋摊旁：“一个多月前，是不是有位大个子军人来这儿修过一只皮鞋？”“啊……对呀。
”“要付多少钱？”小鞋匠略沉想，说：“修鞋费一块五，外加一个月的保管费五毛，您给两块钱得了。
”军人把两块钱递给他，小鞋匠收好钱后，问：“怎么大个子没来？”“他……上前线去了。
”说完，军人转身要走。
“哎”，小鞋匠提起那只鞋，赶快喊道，“鞋子，鞋！”答案：军人止住了脚步，用低沉的声音对小鞋匠说：“用不着了，他的双腿已经在前线医院里……他特意来信嘱咐我把钱送给你，谢谢你了！”说完，迈着大步走了。
第三，突出微型小说“意外结局”和产生强烈表达效果的特点。
示例3：《药方》他走到穿衣镜前，眉头不禁又皱了起来：镜子里的腰身似乎又粗了些……这不是好征兆：发胖会增加心脏负担；会引起动脉硬化；严重些会得心肌梗塞……况且，他还不到四十岁哩！自从当了县长，他时时刻刻都在提防发胖。
微型小说续写练习二(学生版)
京白梨“坐车，坐车呀，机动灵活小客车，车费便宜。
”“的士轿车，不多收您一分钱。
”“住店，住店了，客家旅店，宽敞明亮，屋内彩电，宿费低廉。
”车站检票口前挤满了上下车的旅客和接送站的人，夹杂着出租车司机、旅社招揽生意的叫喊声。
人声鼎沸，熙熙攘攘。
在人流分散的路口，站着一位背包裹的老妇。
她望着横竖交叉、车水马龙的十字路口，犹豫着。
“大娘，您……”我迎上去。
“俺到百草路。
”百草路，好熟啊。
我上小学时写的那篇《百草路上的微笑》还莸得了优秀作文奖呢，写我冒雨送一位去百草路探亲的阿姨。
当费尽周折，找到了她的亲人时，阿姨感激地拉着我的手，笑着说：“谢谢你，小朋友……”并把那又甜又脆的京白梨塞到我的手里……嘿，真巧，二十年后，又碰上了一位去百草路的老人。
老妇用那混浊的目光打量着我，本已伛偻的身子，被包裹压得更弯了。
“你帮我……”老妇脸上那刀刻般的皱纹聚得更深了。
“大娘，我年轻，有的是劲!”说着，我伸手去接她背上的包裹。
不料，她却紧张地用干枯僵硬的双手拽着包裹不放，低声说：“小伙子，大娘没多少脚钱呀……”“脚钱?”我迷惑着，提高了声音，“大娘，我不是脚夫，我送站路过这里……”“啊、啊……”老妇含糊地说了句什么。
僵持了片刻，我毅然地替她背起了包裹，抬脚向前走去。
她默默地跟在我的后边，不知什么时候，竟悄悄扯住了我的衣角。
我的心陡然地颤抖起来，像谁用针刺了一般。
我，我该向她说什么呢 ?—种无名的悲哀和委屈涌向心头，我真想哭……“大娘，您，您看这个……”我慢慢地掏出了工作证，递给她。
“小伙子，你，你别介意。
大娘怕跟不上你……”她松开了扯着的衣角，也没有去接工作证。
重，好重啊。
这才十几公斤的包裹竟压得我难以透过气来。
“小伙子，你歇一会儿吧。
” 我摇着头。
……“啊，到了。
小伙子，快进屋歇歇吧。
”“不，不了。
”“小伙子，你……”老妇嗫嚅着，眼里透出一丝歉意，慌乱地打开包裹。
教授与木匠教授在大都市里住了四十多年，对城市里越来越恶化的环境深恶痛绝，那一天到晚不停的噪音，那呛人肺腑的气味，那抬脚就是高楼的城市，那不堪入目的广告……教授与老伴儿商议，现已退休，干脆把这二层楼卖了到山里去住吧，顺便还可以把我未完成的课题做出来。
小说《穷人》续写作文（精选26篇）
小说《穷人》续写作文（精选26篇）小说《穷人》续写作文篇1账子被拉开了，七个小孩子在明亮的月光下安静的睡着，脸上还带着甜蜜的笑容。
“我们给他们什么吃？……要知道，五个孩子已经……'’突然瘫倒在椅子上的桑那再也说不下去了。
丈夫却微笑地走到桑拿跟前，说‘’没关系，桑娜，我们总能喂饱他们的，只要看着他们健康的身体，我就能安心打鱼；只要在困难中想想他们，我就能克服困难！第2天，渔夫又迎着海雾出海了，桑拿在心里默默祈祷——希望他一帆风顺吧！小说《穷人》续写作文篇2丈夫决定到城里去打工。
一个月过后，丈夫欣喜的回来了，他对妻子桑娜说：“我挣到了九百元！”桑娜惊喜的跑了过来，对丈夫说：“真的吗，如果是真的快让孩子们上学，先给他们买一双鞋。
”丈夫和桑娜决定带领着孩子们来到了城市里上学，然后他们又给各自买了一双便宜的鞋。
渔夫和桑拿把孩子们送到学校之后，他们回了家，渔夫也要走了，因为他要去城里打工。
只有桑娜一人在家了，诶，可怜的桑娜。
小说《穷人》续写作文篇3自从桑娜和渔夫收养了西蒙的两个孩子以后，他们的日子越来越不好，连饭几乎都吃不饱，桑娜只好和丈夫离开了哪里。
他们以最快的速度走着，后来天黑了他们遇到了一位老人，很可怜桑娜和丈夫只有一个面包没办法他们只好把面包给了老人，哪想到老人竟然对桑娜和渔夫说，让他们做老人的儿子原来来人经营生意多年但没儿子就这样渔夫和桑娜和他们的他们的儿子开心的生活在一起了。
小说《穷人》续写作文篇4当拉开帐子时，七个熟睡的小脸正迎着海面睡着，显得十分可爱，他们睡得非常香，脸上露着一点点笑容。
桑娜看了看，无力地坐在椅子上，哭着说：“我们怎么办？我们那什么给他们吃？”她再也说不下去了，渔夫走了过来，拍着桑娜的肩说：“别急，我来顶着。
咱俩少吃一口饭，就能把这两个孩子喂饱了，好了，我们会熬过去的！”第二天，渔夫又出海了，桑娜望着渔夫的背影，说：“上帝啊！为了全家的生活，保佑他一帆风顺吧！”小说《穷人》续写作文篇5第二天早上，孩子们发现一醒来就没有了妈妈，嚎啕大哭起来。
新高考 英语作文短篇小说读后续写含答案
一“My aunt will come down very soon, Mr. Nuttel,” said a very calm young lady of fifteen years of age; “meanwhile you must try to bear my company.”Framton Nuttel tried to say something which would please the niece now present, without annoying the aunt that was about to come. He was supposed to be going through a cure for his nerves; but he doubted whether these polite visits to a number of total strangers would help much.“Do you know many of the people round here?” asked the niece, when she thought that they had sat long enough in silence.“Hardly one,” said Framton. “My sister was staying here, you know, about four years ago, and she gave me letters of introduction to some of the people here.”“Then you know almost nothing about my aunt?” continued the calm young lady.“Only her name and address;” Framton admitted. He was wondering whether Mrs. Sappleton was married; perhaps she had been married and her husband was dead. But there was something of a man in the room.“Her great sorrow came just three years ago,” said the child. “That would be after your sister’s time.”“Her sorrow?” asked Framton.“You may wonder why we keep that window wide open on an October afternoon,” said the niece, pointing to a long window that opened like a door on to the grass outside.“It is quite warm for the time of the year,” said Framton; “but has that window got anything to do with your aunt’s sorrow?”“Out through that window, exactly three years ago, her husband and her twoyoung brothers went off for their day’s shooting. They never came back. In crossing the country to the shooting-ground, they were all three swallowed in a bog. Their bodies were never found.” Here the child’s voice lost its calm sound and became almost human. “Poor aunt always thinks that they will come back someday, they and the little brown dog that was lost with them, and walk in at that window just as they used to do. That is why the window is kept open every evening till it is quite dark. Do you know, sometimes on quiet evenings like this, I almost get a strange feeling that they will all walk in through the window?”It was a relief to Framton when the aunt bustled into the room with a whirl of apologies for being late in making her appearance.“I hope Vera has been amusing you?” she said.“She has been very interesting,” said Framton.“I hope you don't mind the open window,” said Mrs. Sappleton briskly; “My husband and brothers will be home directly from shooting, and they always come in this way.” She rattled on cheerfully about the shooting and the scarcity of birds, and the prospects for duck in the winter. To Framton it was all purely horrible. He made a desperate but only partially successful effort to change the topic; he was conscious that his hostess was giving him only a part of her attention and her eyes were constantly straying past him to the open window and the lawn beyond.Paragraph 1:Then suddenly Mrs. Sappleton brightened into alert attention.Paragraph 2:Framton wildly grabbed his hat and stick; he ran out through the front door and through the gate.二Once upon a sunny morning a man who sat in a breakfast nook looked up from his scrambled eggs to see a white unicorn with a golden horn quietly cropping the roses in the garden. The man went up to the bedroom where his wife was still asleep and woke her. "There's a unicorn in the garden," he said. "Eating roses." She opened one unfriendly eye and looked at him."The unicorn is a mythical beast," she said, and turned her back on him. The man walked slowly downstairs and out into the garden. The unicorn was still there; now he was browsing among the tulips. "Here, unicorn," said the man, and he pulled up a lily and gave it to him. The unicorn ate it gravely. With a high heart, because there was a unicorn in his garden, the man went upstairs and roused his wife again. "The unicorn," he said," ate a lily." His wife sat up in bed and looked at him coldly. "You are a booby," she said, "and I am going to have you put in the booby-hatch."The man, who had never liked the words "booby" and "booby-hatch," and wholiked them even less on a shining morning when there was a unicorn in the garden, thought for a moment. "We'll see about that," he said. He walked over to the door. "He has a golden horn in the middle of his forehead," he told her. Then he went back to the garden to watch the unicorn; but the unicorn had gone away. The man sat down among the roses and went to sleep.As soon as the husband had gone out of the house, the wife got up and dressed as fast as she could. She was very excited and there was a gloat in her eye. Paragraph 1:She telephoned the police and a psychiatrist; she told them to hurry to her house and bring a strait-jacket.Paragraph 2:Just as the police got her into the strait-jacket, the husband came back into the house.Reference:booby-hatch：精神病院strait-jacket: 用来束缚精神病患者的约束衣三I first heard this tale in India, where is told as if true --though any naturalist would know it couldn't be. Later someone told me that the story appeared in a magazine shortly before the First World War. That magazine story, and the person who wrote it, I have never been able to track down.The country is India. A colonial official and his wife are giving a large dinner party. They are seated with their guests--officers and their wives, and a visiting American naturalist -- in their spacious dining room, which has a bare marble floor, open rafters and wide glass doors opening onto a veranda.A spirited discussion springs up between a young girl who says that women have outgrown the jumping-on-a-chair-at-the-sight-of-a-mouse era and a major who says that they haven't."A woman's reaction in any crisis," the major says, "is to scream. And while a man may feel like it, he has that ounce more of self-control than a woman has. And that last ounce is what really counts."The American does not join in the argument but watches the other guests. As he looks, he sees a strange expression come over the face of the hostess. She is staring straight ahead, her muscles contracting slightly. She motions to the native boy standing behind her chair and whispers something to him. The boy's eyes widen: he quickly leaves the room.Of the guests, none except the American notices this or sees the boy place a bowl of milk on the veranda just outside the open doors.The American comes to with a start. In India, milk in a bowl means only one thing -- bait for a snake. He realizes there must be a cobra in the room. He looks up at the rafters --the likeliest place --but they are bare. Three corners of the room are empty, and in the fourth the servants are waiting to serve the next course. There is only one place left -- under the table.His first impulse is to jump back and warn the others, but he knows the commotion would frighten the cobra into striking.Paragraph 1:He speaks quickly, the tone of his voice so commanding that it silences everyone.Paragraph 2:Screams ring out as he jumps to slam the veranda doors safely shut.四Once upon a time there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all the others, including Love. One day it was announced to all of the feelings that the island was going to sink to the bottom of the ocean. So all the feelings prepared their boats to leave.Love was the only one that stayed. She wanted to preserve the island paradise until the last possible moment. When the island was almost totally under, love decided it was time to leave. She began looking for someone to ask for help.Just then Richness was passing by in a grand boat. Love asked, "Richness, can I come with you on your boat?" Richness answered, "I'm sorry, but there is a lot of silver and gold on my boat and there would be no room for you anywhere."Then Love decided to ask Vanity for help who was passing by in a beautiful vessel. Love cried out, "Vanity, help me please!" "I can't help you," Vanity said, "You are all wet and will damage my beautiful boat."Next, Love saw Sadness passing by. Love said, "Sadness, please let me go with you." Sadness answered, "Love, I'm sorry, but, I just need to be alone now."Then, Love saw Happiness. Love cried out, "Happiness, please take me with you." But Happiness was so overjoyed that he didn't hear Love calling to him. Paragraph 1:Love began to cry.Paragraph 2:Love then found Knowledge and asked, "Who was it that helped me?"五The young people were going to Florida—three boys and three girls—and when they boarded the bus, they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags, dreaming of golden beaches and sea tides as the gray cold of New York vanished behind them.As the bus rumbled south, they began to notice Vingo. He sat in front of them, dressed in a plain, ill-fitting suit, never moving, his dusty face masking his age. He chewed the inside of his lip a lot, frozen into some personal cocoon of silence.Deep into the night, outside Washington, the bus pulled into a roadside restaurant, and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat, and the young peoplebegan to wonder about him, trying to imagine his life: perhaps he was a sea captain, a runaway from his wife, an old soldier going home. When they went back to the bus, one of the girls sat beside him and introduced herself.“We’re going to Florida,” she said brightly. “I hear it’s beautiful.”“It is,” he said quietly, as if remembering something he had tried to forget.“Want some wine?” she said. He smiled and took a swig. He thanked her and retreated again into his silence. After a while, she went back to the others, and Vingo nodded in sleep.In the morning, they awoke outside another restaurant, and this time Vingo went in. The girl insisted that he join them. He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people chattered about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus, the girl sat with Vingo again, and after a while, slowly and painfully, he told his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years, and now he was going home.“Are you married?”“I don’t know.”“You don’t know?” she said.“Well, when I was in the can I wrote to my wife,” he said. “I told her that I was going to be away a long time, and that if she couldn’t stand it, if the kids kept asking questions, if it hurt too much, well, she could just forget me. I’d understand. Get a new guy, I said -- she’s a wonderful woman, really something -- and forget about me.I told her she didn't have to write me. And she didn’t. Not for three and a half years.”“And you’re going home now, not knowing?”“Yeah,” he said shyly. “Well, last week, when I was sure the parole was coming through, I wrote her again. There’s a big oak tree just as you come into town. I toldher that if she’d take me back, she should put a yellow handkerchief on the oak tree, and I’d get off and come home. If she didn’t want me, forget it -- no handkerchief, and I would go on through."“Wow,” the girl said. “Wow.”She told the others, and soon all of them were in it, caught up in the approach of Vingo’s home town, looking at the pictures he showed them of his wife and three children --the woman handsome in a plain way, the children still unformed in the cracked, much handled snapshots.Paragraph 1:Now they were 20 miles from the town.Paragraph 2:Vingo sat there stunned, looking at the oak tree.六Stuffy Pete took his seat on the third bench to the right as you enter Union Square from the east, at the walk opposite the fountain. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years he had taken his seat there promptly at 1 o'clock. But today Stuffy Pete's appearance at the annual trysting place seemed to have been rather the result of habit than of the yearly hunger which, as the philanthropists seem to think, afflicts the poor at such extended intervals.Certainly Pete was not starving. He had just come from an unexpected feast. He was passing a red brick mansion near the beginning of Fifth avenue, in which lived two old ladies of old family who respected traditions. One of their traditional habits was to send a servant at the gate to ask the first hungry wayfarer that came along after the hour of noon had struck, and banquet him to a finish. Stuffy Pete happened to pass by on his way to the park and enjoyed a free meal.Pete was sitting on the bench for a rest and then his eyes suddenly bulged out fearfully for he saw the Old Gentleman coming across Fourth avenue toward him. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years he had found Stuffy Pete there, and had led him to a restaurant and watched him eat a big dinner.The Old Gentleman was thin and tall and sixty. He was dressed all in black, and wore the old-fashioned kind of glasses that won't stay on your nose. His hair was whiter and thinner than it had been last year, and he seemed to make more use of his big, knobby cane with the crooked handle."Good morning," said the Old Gentleman. "I am glad to perceive that the vicissitudes of another year have spared you to move in health about the beautiful world. For that blessing alone this day of thanksgiving is well proclaimed to each of us. If you will come with me, my man, I will provide you with a dinner that should make your physical being accord with the mental."That is what the old Gentleman said every time. Every Thanksgiving Day for nine years. The words themselves almost formed an Institution. Nothing could be compared with them except the Declaration of Independence. Always before they had been music in Stuffy's ears. But now he looked up at the Old Gentleman's face with tearful pain in his own. The fine snow almost sizzled when it fell upon his sweaty brow. But the Old Gentleman shivered a little and turned his back to the wind.Stuffy Pete looked up at him for a half minute, stewing and helpless in his own self-pity. The Old Gentleman's eyes were bright with the giving-pleasure."Thankee, sir. I'll go with ye, and much obliged. I'm very hungry, sir."The Old Gentleman led him southward to the restaurant, and to the table where the feast had always occurred. They were recognized."Here comes de old guy," said a waiter, "dat blows dat same bum to a meal every Thanksgiving."The waiters heaped the table with holiday food -- and Stuffy, with a sigh that was mistaken for hunger's expression, raised knife and fork and started eating. Turkey, chops, soups, vegetables, pies, disappeared before him as fast as they could be served. Gorged nearly to the uttermost when he entered the restaurant, the smell of food had almost caused him to lose his honor as a gentleman, but he fought like a true knight. Paragraph 1:In an hour Stuffy leaned back with a battle won.Paragraph 2:An hour later another ambulance brought the Old Gentleman.七Alexis Vaughan, 17, sat quietly in the passenger seat of her dad's car. She stared out the window at the Preston, Idaho, cornfields.Alexis, a high school student, let her eyes lazily scan the landscape for wildlife. Still, she was terrified when a deer came into view about 200 yards in front of them, just a few feet off the road. "Dad, there's a deer, there!" Alexis said, rolling down the window for a better look. It was a three-point buck (雄鹿)——a male deer with sharp, three-pronged antlers (角) on each side of its head．As the car moved closer, Alexis saw that the buck's head was bent toward the ground．Then she heard a scream. A few seconds later, she saw an arm fly up near the buck's head. Alexis realized the buck was attacking a woman. Sue Panter, a 44-year-old mother, had been out for her morning run. The buck had come out from the tall corn and began following her. Having lived in rural Idaho for years, Sue knew that most bucks got frightened by humans. But this buck edged closer, even when she threw at it with a handful of gravels(石子).Sue went to pick up a log to use for self-defense, and the buck charged．It liftedher with its antlers and threw her into the air. Sue could feel the horns punctured(刺穿) her leg and blood flowed down her leg．Within seconds, the buck had pushed her off the road and into the cornfield.When Alexis and her father pulled up, the buck was rolling Sue like a rag doll．Alexis looked into the woman's terrified eyes, and before her father had even stopped the car, the 104 pound teenager jumped quickly out of the car and down the slope toward the buck. She was kicking and hitting it to get its attention. Then Michael, her father, who had followed his daughter, wrestled the buck away from the women by holding the antlers.Paragraph1:Alexis helped Sue up the slope.Paragraph 2:Then she heard her father yell.八The policeman on the beat moved along the avenue impressively. The time was barely 10 o'clock at night, but it was rather chilly. Now and then you might see the lights of a shop or of a small restaurant. But most of the doors belonged to business places that had been closed hours ago. When about midway of a certain block the policeman suddenly slowed his walk. Near the door of a darkened store a man was standing. As the cop walked toward him, the man spoke quickly."It's all right, officer," he said. "I'm just waiting for a friend. It's an appointment made twenty years ago. Sounds a little funny to you, doesn't it? Well, I'll explain if you'd like to make certain it's all straight. About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands——'Big Joe' Brady's restaurant.""It was here until five years ago," said the cop. "It was torn down then."The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale, square-jawed face with keen eyes, and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. He had a large jewel in his necktie."Twenty years ago tonight," said the man, "I had dinner here with Jimmy Wells. He was my best friend and the best fellow in the world. He and I grew up together here in New York, like two brothers. The next morning I was to start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn't have pulled Jimmy out of New York. He thought it was the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that we would meet here again exactly twenty years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we might have to come. ""It sounds interesting," said the cop. "Haven't you heard from your friend since you left?""Well, yes, for a time we corresponded," said the other. "But after a year or twowe lost track of each other. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he's alive. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door tonight, and it's worth it if my old partner turns up."The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids of it set with small diamonds. "Three minutes to ten," he announced. "It was exactly ten o'clock when we parted here at the restaurant door.""Did pretty well out West, didn't you?" asked the policeman."You bet! I hope Jimmy has done half as well. He was a kind of plodder, though, good fellow as he was. I've had to compete with some of the sharpest wits going to get my pile. ""I'll be on my way. Hope your friend comes around all right." said the policeman, passing on along his beat, checking doors as he went.In the door of the hardware store the man who had come a thousand miles to fill an appointment smoked his cigar and waited. About twenty minutes later a tall man in a long overcoat hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.“Is that you, Bob?" he asked, doubtfully."Is that you, Jimmy Wells?" cried the man in the door."Bless my heart!" exclaimed the new arrival, grasping both the other's hands with his own. "It's Bob, sure as fate. I was certain I'd find you here if you were still in existence.”"You've changed lots, Jimmy. I never thought you were so tall by two or three inches.""Oh, I grew a bit after I was twenty. Come on, Bob, We’ll go to a place I know, and have a good long talk about old times."Paragraph 1:The two men walked along the street, arm in arm.Paragraph 2:“Before we go on to the police station, here's a note for you from a cop named Wells." said the tall man.九I knew Marty's magic was fake, but I just couldn't prove it.Marty was new at school. Usually when you're the new kid, you lay low, but not Marty. On his first day, he made a toothpick disappear. One second he was holding the toothpick, and the next second it was gone! Everyone was asking him how he did it."It's magic!" Marty said proudly."At my old school, they actually called meMagic Marty.""Is he serious?" I whispered to my friend Brian. "Magic Marty? And does he always bring toothpicks to school?""I don't know, but that was pretty cool," Brian said, still watching Marty.I turned to walk away. It's not magic. He's tricking everyone, and I'm going to find out how he does it. That night at home, I found a box of toothpicks. I sat at the kitchen table for almost an hour trying to figure out how Marty had made one disappear. The only thing I learned was how to poke my hand 11 times with a toothpick."Matt, it's getting late. What are you still doing down here?"my mom asked."A new kid at school is doing magic tricks and everyone thinks it's amazing. I'm just trying to figure out how he did this one trick.""I'm curious. Why is this so important?""Because he's tricking people!" I cried."Sounds as if he's trying to make friends" My mom patted my arm. "It's your bedtime."The next day at shcool, Marty started his magic thing again. "It's hot today!" Marty said to a crowd around his. "So for today's trick, I'll turn this water into ice!" Marty pulled a water bottle out of his bag, along with a red plastic cup. He carefully poured water from his bottle into the cup. I watched from the back, hoping to catch a mistake. "Now I'll the magic wave!"Marty looked as if he was playing an invisible piano just above the cup. "Ta-da!" Marty got a handful of ice cubes! filled the hallway, and Brian reached over to give Marty a high five. "How did you do that?" someone asked.Marty smiled. "Sorry, but that's the first law of magic. A magician never revealshis secrets."Again I tried hard to reveal his trick that night, but I still couldn’t get it. Magic Marty had me, but the next day I caught a lucky break. At lunch, Marty was going on about how he could make things float. He had a ring in one hand and a pencil in the other. That's when I saw it: a thin piece of fishing line tied around the end of the pencil and attached to a Marty's shirt!Sure enough, he made the ring "float" by it over the pencil and hanging it from the line. No one else noticed, and soon the whole cafeteria was clapping. When the crowds were gone, I walked over. It was time to put an end to the Magic Marty show.Paragraph 1:"I know how you did it, "I said, folding my arms.Paragraph 2:Marty let out a relieved sigh, and I turned to walk away.十Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart disease, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad accident was received, with Brently Mallard's name leading the list of "killed."She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her.There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.She sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.She was young, with a fair, calm face. But now there was a dull stare in her eyes,whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, she was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will --as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been.When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under her breath: "free, free, free!" Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender hands folded in death; the face that had never looked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.And yet she had loved him—sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in face of this possession of self-assertion which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being!"Free! Body and soul free!" she kept whispering.Paragraph 1:"What are you doing Louise? For heaven's sake open the door!" Josephine was kneeling before the closed door, begging for admission.Paragraph 2:Suddenly they heard someone opening the front door with a key.一Paragraph 1Then suddenly Mrs. Sappleton brightened into alert attention. “Here they are at last! Just in time for tea!” she cried. Framton shivered slightly and turned towards the niece with a look intended to convey sympathetic comprehension. The child was staring out through the open window with dazed horror in her eyes. In a chill shock of nameless fear Framton swung round in his seat and looked in the same direction. In the increasing darkness three figures were walking across the grass towards the window; they all carried guns under their arms. A tired brown dog kept close at their heels. Noiselessly they drew near to the house.Paragraph 2Framton wildly grabbed his hat and stick; he ran out through the front door and。
最短科幻小说续写作文
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