In today's blog, I have rewritten a small part from my reading of Bullet in the Brain (Tobias Wolff)Bullet in the Brain (Tobias Wolff). This will show you that changing one part of a story could affect the whole story. I provide my own personal action scene that has always been an issue in my life. Anders couldn’t get to the bank until just before it closed. The line was endless, and he got stuck behind two women that were having an conversation that peek his interest putting him in a better temper. The two women were talking about their love for writing, and it triggers a far back memory. Clearing his mind from his stressful day looking at papers from students that have not gotten the concept of writing. He remembers when he fell in love with the art of and his life was ahead of his. A baseball field. Yellow grass, the whirr of insects, himself leaning against a tree as the boys of the neighborhood gather for a pickup game. Someone asked one of the boy's cousin that was from out of town what position he wanted to play. “shortstop,” the boy says. “Short's the best position they is,” was Anders memory. He had never heard grammar liked that. Those two words had at one point roused and elated him. Now, Anders is a book critic known for the weary, elegant savagery with which he dispatched almost everything he reviewed. With the line still doubled around the rope, one of the tellers stuck a “POSITION CLOSED” sign in her window and walked to the back of the bank, where she leaned against a desk and began to pass time with another teller shuffling papers. This gave Anders time to think about all things that use to matter. My scene... “Hey babe, what time was our reservations?” “At 8:30 pm, why? “Oh, no reason I just wanted to know what time I needed to be ready by. I love you and see you when you get here.” Walking out the shower to my room I glans at my phone, Omg! It’s 6:48 pm. I haven't even started my makeup or found something to where he’s going to kill me. I’m standing in the middle of my room wondering where I lost time. O.k., don’t panic let's start with my makeup. I run over to my vanity turn to the lights and look at what am I going to do first. Please God, take to wheel and help me draw these eyebrows on like identical twins. Look at that, muah, muah blow kisses to myself as I admired my art across my forehead. Next what color eyeshadow? Pink, brown, black or glitter. I don’t know because I haven't found an outfit. I ran over to my closet and start looking at my compacted stacks of clothes. Let's not make this complicated , grab a dress. I found a nice red dress that clings to all my curves even my muffin top. Who cares, I still look sexy and I have a man, the things I tell myself when I feel insecure. I lay the dress on my bed alongside all my jewelry, and Back to beating my face. Wow, God are you taking time from me, now it’s 7:38 pm. He's going to be here any minute talking about how I’m never ready. Whatever, now I’m mad at myself, I never have enough time. After an hour and forty minutes later, we jump in an Uber to go out for dinner.
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