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Full-Text Articles in Art and Design
Shapes In The Night, Dave Craycraft
Shapes In The Night, Dave Craycraft
Manuscripts
People are shapes, and things are shadows; places a blur, and faces a blank. All people sleep sometime, but cities never -- and never all people at once. The city's roar is a decrescendo from midnight on, but it never dies down to silence. Most windows are dark; most lights are out, but never all.
Prologue To Autobiography, Anne Horne
Prologue To Autobiography, Anne Horne
Manuscripts
The guests had arrived for the christening. A steady stream of admiring relatives and close friends filed past the ruffled bassinet wherein lay the object of all eyes -- the baby. Last in that long line came the eighty year old great-grandmother, whose still clear eyes told of that indomitable spirit contained in her tiny form. With bated breath the rest of the family watched her stoop over the baby, catch her breath, and straighten up with an inscrutable smile on her rather thin lips.
I Hit My Mark, William Steinmetz
I Hit My Mark, William Steinmetz
Manuscripts
The hunt was ready to start, but only after a hunting ground was secured. Since I was one of a polite party of hunters, as hunters go, I left the car to ask a farmer's permission to hunt on his property.
Tangible Evidence, Wilbur Elliott
Tangible Evidence, Wilbur Elliott
Manuscripts
Young Kipling Wiley silently inserted the key, and turned the knob with the greatest of caution. As he closed the door behind him, it gave only the merest hint of a squeak. Kipling mentally congratulated himself on the mouse-like quiet of his entrance, and then started across the floor on tip-toe.
Soft Answer, Marguerite Ellis
Soft Answer, Marguerite Ellis
Manuscripts
Mr. Hughes was downcast. In fact, Mr. Hughes was pessimistic. It was not the fact that it was Sunday -- Mr. Hughes was not a church-going man -- but simply that the view from the big front window of his newspaper office was neither scenically inspiring nor financially hopeful.
Uncle George, Ruth Marie Hamill
Uncle George, Ruth Marie Hamill
Manuscripts
Every evening when Uncle George walks into the house, before he greets any member of the family, he yells, "O-oh, Pepper! O-oh, Ginger!" and if Pepper and her puppy aren't already scampering down the stairs, or from the living room, they come now. Pepper stands on her hind legs and leans her forepaws on him while she nuzzles in his pockets for peanuts. Ginger dances around him, making funny noises which sometimes terminate in a short bark. He picks the little dog up and feeds both him and Pepper a few peanuts or bites of candy that he has brought …
High Pressure, Cathryn Smith
High Pressure, Cathryn Smith
Manuscripts
Pauline regarded John fretfully. She thought: "He's so sensible. I don't believe he ever did or said anything crazy in his li fe. He's absolutely stodgy!"
They rode along in silence for a while. John never drove fast, but there was enough wind to whip color into their faces, and Pauline's hair blew wildly.
The Hunt, Mars B. Ferrell
The Hunt, Mars B. Ferrell
Manuscripts
The youth descended briskly the steep side of the gully. His two dogs, already at the bottom, trotted through the light snow. Their high noses and quickening steps were read by the young trapper as definite signs that a catch was to be expected. The trap he had set a day ago at a den on the side of the small tributary gully ahead probably held a victim. In any event, the "set" had looked good -- several fresh skunk tracks.
Return, Dorothy Steinmeier
Return, Dorothy Steinmeier
Manuscripts
Martha smiled the way she always smiled when someone said something nice to her. Someone was always saying something nice to her, it seemed.
Denouement, Betty Richart
Denouement, Betty Richart
Manuscripts
Mrs. Bridgford was fidgeting. The prospect of the long evening before her filled her with nervous panic. Her husband sat solidly established behind his newspaper; she knew that no prospect of adventure could lure him from it. They sat in their intimate sphere of lamp-light without exchanging a word; the daily commonplace, had been duly gone through at dinner. Now there was nothing.
Grandma Brown, Mary Burrin
Grandma Brown, Mary Burrin
Manuscripts
"Sit down, Grandma. There's no need for you to help. I can finish the Turkey myself," said Effie Brown to her mother-in-law.
Hmm! Sitting down was all she'd done since she'd been here. As for finishing the turkey, Effie always cooked the meat too brown and dry, so hard you couldn't eat it, thought Grandma Brown.