SAT的真題閲讀

Myfirst commissioned work was to write letters for her. You write for me,honey? she would say, holding out a ball-point she had been given at agrocery store promotion, clicking it like a castanet. My fee was cookies andmilk, payable before, during, and after completion of the project.

Isettled down at her kitchen table while she rooted around the drawer where shekept coupons and playing cards and bank calendars. Eventually she located apiece of stationery and a mismatched envelope. She laid the small, pastel sheetbefore me, smoothing it out; a floral motif was clotted across the top of thepage and bled down one side. The paper was so insubstantial even ballpoint inkseeped through the other side. Thats OK, she would say. Weonly need one side.

life she was a gifted gossip, unfurling an extended riff of chatter from abare motif of rumor. But her writing style displayed a brevity that madeHemingways prose look like nattering garrulity. She dictated her letters as ifshe were paying by the word.

DearSister, she began, followed by a little time-buying cough and throatclearing. We are all well here. Pause. And hope you are welltoo. Longer pause, the steamy broth of inspiration heating up on her sideof the table. Then, in a lurch, Winter is hard so I dont get outmuch.

Thiswas followed instantly by an unconquerable fit of envy: Not like you inCalifornia. Then she came to a complete halt, perhaps demoralized by thisevidence that you cant put much on paper before you betray your secret self,try as you will to keep things civil.