Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?
by Joyce Carol Oates (1966) For Bob Dylan. Her name was Connie. She was fifteen and she had a quick, nervous giggling habit of craning her neck to glance into mirrors or checking other peoples faces to make s
Tickets, Please! D. H. Lawrence (1919) There is in the North a single-line system of tramcars which boldly leaves the county town and plunges off into the black, industrial countryside, up hill and down dale, through the long, ugly villages of workme
Second Best by D.H. Lawrence "Oh, I'm tired!" Frances exclaimed petulantly, and in the same instant she dropped down on the turf, near the hedgebottom. Anne stood a moment surprised, then, accustomed to the vagaries of her beloved Frances, said: "Wel
by Susan Minot (1989) Leo was from a long time ago, the first one I ever saw nude. In the spring before the Hellmans filled their pool, wed go down there in the deep end, with baby oil, and like that. I met him the first month away at boarding s
Araby By James Joyce (1914) North Richmond Street, being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers' School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a
The Horse Dealer's Daughter by D H Lawrence (1922) 'Well, Mabel, and what are you going to do with yourself ?' asked Joe, with foolish flippancy. He felt quite safe himself. Without listening for an answer, he turned aside, worked a grain of tobacco
The Chrysanthemums By John Steinbeck (1938) The high grey-flannel fog of winter closed off the Salinas Valley from the sky and from all the rest of the world. On every side it sat like a lid on the mountains and made of the great valley a closed pot.