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Story of an hour

 
The nature of Mrs. Mallard’s heart complications necessitated caution to be taken when breaking the disheartening news of her husband’s demise. In this case, the duty of the person breaking news was to appear gentle in transmitting the sensitive news. The only person considered bold and gentle enough was her sister. She tried to sound strong and gentle, but the sentences came out in a broken format. The sentences did not conceal everything. However, it managed to conceal half hints of the news. To console her was her husband’s friend. The husband’s friend was among the first people who received the news about the railway road disaster. To make sure that he becomes the bearer of valid news, he waited for a second telegram, which confirmed the death to him. From that moment, he became the friend with the delicate news hence he had to formulate a better way of communicating to his friend’s wife.
The story came to her, not in a way that it would create an inability to accept the significance, but also to be normal and grief at the loss of a loved one. She moved in her room and engaged in self-reflection on the time spent. She took sometime looking outside the window, but literary sank in an armchair next to her. All the self-reflection of the past led to physical exhaustion. However, her soul was alert and reaching her body. Her eyes were moving from one place of interest to the next. At one time, she was admiring the trees outside her house with a sense of analyzing the new spring life in them. Amidst the painful part of the death of her husband, the delicious breath of rain was freely circulating in the air.
She focused on a voice emerging from a distance whereby it was amplified by the twittering of sparrows and a street peddler ready for the day’s activities. At a far distance, her sight is caught by clouds that were moving slowly across the skies. The west horizon was filled with clouds, which seemed so close to her window. A sob took her to feelings she thought she had overcome. It was quite unnoticed that a sob was to hit her hand since she was supporting herself with the cushion of the chair. The cry of a child and the fact that they are carried away by the dreams and sleep while crying was the equivalent of her mourning. She had tried to gather the strength within in order to contain the pain from inside.
Her age was easily noticeable, and her calm face signified strength and a deeper repression. In a close look, that seemed to fade. The pain of the news had made her calm face dull, and her eyes change. Her eyes seemed quite fixed at a distance far away made up of blue patches in the sky. From her window, the skies seemed friendly, and the blue patches were amazing. It indicated a complete suspension of thoughts. The intellectual ability to analyze things had been barred by the emotional pain. The entire scene on the window was best explained by her state of emotions. The look was not analyzed but a glance of reflection. A reflection of life that had been lived and a loss were irreparable.


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