A Rose for Emily - Creative Writing

Only available on StudyMode
  • Download(s) : 428
  • Published : December 13, 2010
Open Document
Text Preview
This is the point of view of the window in the room where Homer Barron was killed. The window is a witness of Emily´s entire life and it is the one who can describe everything that has happened at the moment Emily puts an end to Homer’s existence. In my opinion, this piece of writing can enrich the text because the reader gets a glimpse of the conversation Emily and Homer have before she kills him and what Tobe’s position in her game is.

The long room, with its pink walls, was dark and empty, except for all the new furniture that, little by little, Tobe had sneaked in without the neighbours ever quite noticing. And a fine job he had done. The room had never looked half as lovely. I could hear footsteps slowly coming up the stairs and the soft, almost indistinguishable, sound of voices which by the minute grew louder. Finally, the door opened and the lights were turned on. Yes, two people had been climbing the stairs and now I could see who they were. Miss Emily, who night after night, almost religiously, had come to check on the work Tobe was performing, was accompanied by no one less that Homer Barron. Now the old house would have a master once more. To avoid catching the eye of the curious passer-by, Miss Emily drew the curtains, thus rendering me blind, though only partially, for I could still make out their shapes. Being deprived of my sight, I had no other choice than to rely on my hearing. And that I did. “Emily, what’s all this? I’m quite sure I told you I’m not the type to marry and settle down,” said Homer, almost mockingly. But Miss Emily had made up her mind and she wouldn’t let him walk away. He would be forever bound to this house in the same way she and everyone who had preceded her had been. At last, their fates would be one and the same. Miss Emily stood in front of him, and in a movement I couldn’t quite make out, but that I imagined –and that since the incident, every time I rehash their conversation I still do picture it like that–, placed...
tracking img