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教育王國 討論區 教材閱讀 英文散文節選與欣賞
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英文散文節選與欣賞

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5164
發表於 14-3-5 13:44 |顯示全部帖子
本帖最後由 Obiepapa 於 14-5-29 10:36 編輯

The fog crept in, oozing about everything in its path like an amoeba. It moved quietly, at first only tiny fingers prying at the darkness above the river. Then it came, large arms of fog alternating, pulling the mass forward like the cytoplasm. The arms moved farther and farther forward, pulling the great mass, yet always contained, as if a huge cell membrane held it together.

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5164
發表於 14-3-5 13:50 |顯示全部帖子
The first thing she remembered was her mother. Her mother had been beautiful, with eyes like melted gold. She could remember her mother bending over her and whispering to the edges of her mind. She spent many long years trying to remember what her mother had said, but she could not. Her only memory was that she had loved her very much. Then one morning her mother was gone. She was young and all alone.
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5164
發表於 14-3-7 17:04 |顯示全部帖子
The blazing red paint sparkled with an iridescent cherry glow. The lighting danced across the car like a chorus line. In gold letters, the word "Corvette" seemed to leap out and hypnotize. The glaring chrome hubcaps glistened like a moonlit lake.
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5164
發表於 14-3-31 10:37 |顯示全部帖子
The old man was tired. As he bent over the hoe in the old garden, one could see that he was exhausted from working in the hot sun. Sweat dripped from the folds of his chin as he moved the hoe back and forth, back and forth like a pendulum on a clock. He paused to eject a stream of tobacco juice through his loose front teeth. He looked at the sun felt the heat penetrate the loose skin of his face.
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5164
發表於 14-3-31 10:38 |顯示全部帖子
It happened on a whispery summer night in late August. Looking back, the first thing that I remember is the sweet smell of barbecue, seeing Grandma and Uncle Hector, then the field near the edge of the woods just behind my grandparents' house, with the song of the crickets and the wind laced with hints of honeysuckle. Then I remember the fireflies. There were more out that night than any 1had ever seen anywhere.
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5164
發表於 14-3-31 10:38 |顯示全部帖子
A school project motivated me to make a gift for her, the old woman I had seen countless times in her garden. It was a simple gift, a couple of violet plants in a purple flower pot with matching ribbons around it. At the time I hadn't realized it was more. I ran home from school with the gift under my arm and wrapped it in a simple lavender tissue paper. After I finished, I hurried down to the old lady's house and knocked on the door.
She came out wearing her garden-soiled clothes and an old blue garden hat. I brought my hands from behind my back, revealing the gift, and a smile crept shyly across my face. She looked at me and tears filled her eyes. Then I knew what the time I had put into the gift had meant, because neither the woman nor I had ever been happier than on that day.
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5164
發表於 14-3-31 10:38 |顯示全部帖子
Before dawn crept over the desert sands one dark July morning, only minutes before the sun’s first rays streaked across a thin horizon, there was a sunset. Not a literal sunset, for no sky had ever seen the brilliance and power of the symbol that rose in the desert those many years ago. Only a small group witnessed it, but the message was clear: for many years after, the human race world live in its shadow
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5164
發表於 14-3-31 10:38 |顯示全部帖子
The walls, it is funny how we never notice them. The paint, carefully chosen, is always a calm color: whipped blue, creamy green, warm milk, lemon pudding. It’s too quiet. The teachers make it louder. Construction paper, the brightest you can buy, spells out something on the wall. Bulletin boards, some simple with a message, other educational; the best are personal. Posters with cute sayings live on the walls; you get to know them. When you are bored or stumped, these walls become your friends.
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5164
發表於 14-3-31 10:38 |顯示全部帖子
It was not hot. We couln't decided whether to leave the windows up and turn the air conditioning on, or roll the windows down and hope we would soon drive through a pocket of cool air to relieve our sweaty faces. The air in the car was like a sauna, singeing the hair in my nose as I inhalted. The ice cubes left over from my Coke that we had bought at Dairy Queen melted in about two seconds, turning into lukewarm, Coke-flavored water. Heat waves shimmered on the highway ahead, making it look like a lake had covered the asphalt. But as we came closer, it would disappear and move farther down the road. The car gave a gasp, and my dad looked at the instrument panel. The indicator was creeping into the red section on the temperature gauge. My dad swore under his breath and pulled over. As he took the cap off the radiator, a spout of steam rose and burned his hand. I sighed and wiped the trickle of sweat that was sliding down the tip of my nose and dreamed of snowmen and icicles.
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5164
發表於 14-3-31 10:39 |顯示全部帖子
My head lifted from my homework as the music drifted into my room, like a distress signal from the kitchen. The headache which had been tormenting me while I studied suddenly eased, leaving my mind almost free of pain. I lifted my weight from the chair and happily followed the sounds, like a child being lured by a piper.
I found myself entering my mother's domain, and there she was, fixing dinner. Her lips moves slightly, singing the lyrics to herself, and her hips swayed to the beat. She looked up from the tomato she had been slicing as if I were Aunt Polly and she Tom with a jar of stolen jam in his hands. She reached for the volume knob and turned it counterclockwise, lessening the noise to a murmur. Thus began our usual routine, she saying hello, I returning her greeting with a smile. She asked me how was my work upstairs and I said fine, and how was her work coming downstairs? She smiled and said just great, but that she could always use some company.
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5164
發表於 14-3-31 11:19 |顯示全部帖子
Portrait of a storm
The coral blaze of early morning had dimmed and vanished. In its place the evening sky, stripped of its cotton-patterned wallpaper, stretched pale purple, almost colorless. I held out my hand from beneath the canopy of the gazebo. Nothing, I thought. I sat down to wait on the ramshackle, unpainted bench of the gazebo and faced the lawn that gaped expectantly at the lusterless sky. A frame of mist hung in the clammy air, and a solemn stillness permeated the atmosphere.
Suddenly, every detail of stem and blade of grass shone platinum, as lightning flickered in the sky like a silver of jagged glass, and thunder rumbled like sheets of tin. Rain rushed downward, skinny gray darts invisible until they fell before the dark invisible until they fell before the dark background of a roof or the grass which lay in patches of lime and olive. The falling droplets soaked the lawn and dimpled the wet pavement leading to the porch steps. The drainpipe, which ran down from the eaves, gurgled clamorously and sputtered water on the ground. The crackling and swishing of the water crescendoed as the rain beat down more heavily.
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5164
發表於 14-5-29 10:41 |顯示全部帖子
His little sister walks in. She is leaving a trail of glitter behind her everywhere she turns. As she climbs over me and into her brother's lap, I can tell she dreams. She could live in an entire world of fantasy, for all I know. Suddenly, I am jealous of her. After she has settled comfortably into her brother's lap, she looks up at him and kisses him on the cheek, leaving shiny spot of strawberry lip gloss where her lips have been.
He looks down at her and pats her on the head, the glitter sprinkles shimmering down. I glance at her and she gives me a sweet six-year-old's smile. Slowly I drag my eyes up to Matthew's. We share a sad look, knowing that someday she will have to leave her world of make-believe. But for now, we let her be a fairy, a glitter pixie.
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5164
發表於 14-5-29 10:41 |顯示全部帖子
She came to me wearing her cotton white dress. She baked me a pie, but I did not eat the pie. I let the pie drop to the ground. I watched her face fall with the pie. Then I watched her turn around and walk away.
The next day she returned, still wearing her white cotton dress. Her long curly locks were tied, but not tamed, in two blue ribbons. Her soft hands bestowed another pie: an apple pie. She placed the pie in my palm. I let it drop. Bruised apples, cut by the crust, drowned in their own juices. She bowed her head and slowly stepped away.
In the days that followed, neither did her dress fade, nor her hair lie limp. She continued to bake pies, warm pies, pies with golden crusts. Underneath the crusts breathed an abundance of fruit which floated freely in their juice. The pies still crashed to the ground. Their crusts bled fruit like open wounds.
And her face followed each pie to the floor.
One day, a hunger arose in my stomach, a hunger that only a warm apple pie could satisfy. So I went to her to receive my pie. Where the pies had dropped the previous days, I found a cotton white dress and two blue ribbons, stained with fruit juices.
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5164
發表於 14-5-29 10:41 |顯示全部帖子
You walk home in new blue jeans, skipping such an easy beat, true rhythm, rock and roll across the pavement, reaching with its hands of broken glass for ankles, knees, and thighs that dream of blue-skinned San Francisco Bay. Forgive the blood its panics and its joys; the drums promise lightning, guitars cry out. You have holding in one hand the feeling of his hand, in one hand the newest record, remembering the kiss beside the bus, his silence, his smile. The stereos fly.
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5164
發表於 14-5-29 10:43 |顯示全部帖子
It talks to me. Every season it says something different. Most homes don't talk. Mine does. Not just my house, the trees, the lake, the bluff, the rusty playground, the swing on the porch, the old rock which is gone now, they all understand me. I have grown up with them. They have known me all my life.
In the winter the trees drip crystals, and diamond shavings cover my head when my father calls me under and shakes a branch. When snow is coming, Sally always wants to sleep here so we can zoom down the hill like frozen lightning and laugh when I hit my knee on the tree. Laughing makes the hurt stop.
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5164
發表於 14-5-29 10:43 |顯示全部帖子
Back in the Old West there was a very greedy gold miner called Greedy Grant. He was born the son of a cattle rustler, who was the best in the West at the time. He got his name because he was so greedy that no one could share the same area of land within a hundred miles in any direction. He was also a giant and stood at about two hundred feet tall.
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發表於 14-6-8 16:06 |顯示全部帖子

回覆:英文散文節選與欣賞

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