was just getting dark. After she put the lamb chops in the broiler, she sat down to open the package. Inside the carton was a push-button unit fastened to a small wooden box. A glass dome covered the button. Norma tried to lift it off, but it was locked in place. She turned the unit over and saw a folded piece of paper Scotch-taped to the bottom of the box. She pulled it off: "Mr. Steward will call on you at 8:00P.M." Norma put the button unit beside her on the couch. She reread the typed note, smiling
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ONE NIGHT @ THE CALL CENTER —CHETAN BHAGAT [Typeset by: Arun K Gupta] This is someway my story. A great fun, inspirational One! Before you begin this book, I have a small request. Right here, note down three things. Write down something that i) you fear, ii) makes you angry and iii) you don’t like about yourself. Be honest, and write something that is meaningful to you. Do not think too much about why I am asking you to do this. Just do it. One thing I fear: __________________________________
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father wearing a black leather jacket and folded black jeans and my mother wearing a deep red dress up to her knees. She had a delicate plait running down her neck and a beautiful red bow holding it together. I remember this photo it was the day my mother was bit from my father. She had a mark on her sun kissed neck I could tell she was a bit worried yet she knew she did the right thing. She joined the right side. ------------------------------------------------- Anyway enough about my parents for
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advantages, yet she had no luck. She married for love, and the love turned to dust. She had bonny children, yet she felt they had been thrust upon her, and she could not love them. They looked at her coldly, as if they were finding fault with her. And hurriedly she felt she must cover up some fault in herself. Yet what it was that she must cover up she never knew. Nevertheless, when her children were present, she always felt the centre of her heart go hard. This troubled her, and in her manner she was all
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artists lived in Greenwich Village, in New York City. Sue and Johnsy were artists. The two girls met each other in the month of May, at a restaurant in Greenwich Village. ‘I’m from the State of Maine,’ Sue said to Johnsy. ‘I draw pictures for stories in magazines.’ ‘I’m from California,’ Johnsy said to Sue. ‘But I want to go to Italy. I want to paint a picture of the Bay of Naples!’ The two girls talked happily for an hour – about art, about clothes, about food. Soon after their first meeting, Sue and
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Rabbit-Hole Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had looked into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, 'and what is the use of a book,' thought Alice 'without pictures or conversation?' So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a flower-chain would be worth the trouble
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advantages, yet she had no luck. She married for love, and the love turned to dust. She had bonny children, yet she felt they had been thrust upon her, and she could not love them. They looked at her coldly, as if they were finding fault with her. And hurriedly she felt she must cover up some fault in herself. Yet what it was that she must cover up she never knew. Nevertheless, when her children were present, she always felt the centre of her heart go hard. This troubled her, and in her manner she was all
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Christmas and I really want to know what it was like when I was a child. “I asked my father, tell me what it was like”, as i sip the Strega, waiting for him to answer me. “ That was along time ago”, my father said. “almost twenty years.” “You can remember”, I say as he is thinking of the story he is going to tell. “ I could tell you about something that happened, They were kids themselves, but they were crazy in love, this eighteen-year-old boy and this seventeen-year-old girl when they married. Not
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true love, behind her… Now, the throne awaits Prince Sebastian Karedes! Seb had once loved Cassie so passionately he would have chosen her over his kingdom. But she rejected him. Now she’s been released from prison, he discovers that she may be innocent of her crime – but she gave birth to his baby in her cell! Sebastian must choose between his own honour and his duty to his kingdom. He will claim his love-child – but what about his bride? Two crowns, two islands, one legacy A royal family, torn
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desolate spot with only her daughter and she had never seen Mr. Shiftlet before, she could tell, even from a distance, that he was a tramp and no one to be afraid of. His left coat sleeve was folded up to show there was only half an arm in it and his gaunt figure listed slightly to the side as if the breeze were pushing him. He had on a black town suit and a brown felt hat that was turned up in the front and down in the back and he carried a tin tool box by a handle. He came on, at an amble, up her road
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