The story of an hour

THE
STORY
ANOHFOUR

BY KATE CHOPIN (1894)

The story of an hour
BY KATE CHOPIN (1894)

There are three people in my family, Josephine, that's me, my sister Louise Mallard
and my stepmother Karina, and our biological mother died when we were young.
But my father remarried Karina, so we had to live with my father and stepmother,
who were always mean, forced us, but then our father died when I was 17. Well, my
sister and I need to stay with my stepmother, and I love my sister so much. Because
there are only two of us, I'm always worried about her. But the most worrying thing
was about her health. Because I recently received bad news from the doctor, who
found out that my sister had heart disease. I was very sorry and worried about my
sister. So I had to take special care of her.

My sister Louise Mallard has married her husband Brently Mallard, my sister needs
to get married because she is oppressed by my stepmother. As our home is not so
good, my sister has to get married for our family to survive, my sister's husband is a
railroad worker, now her husband is not with her, and he has to work in Toronto,
Canada.

On the evening of January 15, 2001, I was in the living room. I was watching the
news on TV for a while. The news anchor talked about the train accident in Toronto,
so I remembered that my brother-in-law was working there, so I listened carefully,
and then the news anchor talked about the list of 30 people who had my brother-in-
law's list first. I was shocked. My heart and feeling worried about my sister suddenly
came up. Because I knew that my sister had heart disease, I had to inform her of her
husband's death carefully, gently, gently, as much as I could; I had hinted at her but
not told her the whole truth; Richard, my sister's husband's friend, was also here near
us. He was aware of the news from the newspaper office. He received a telegram
informing the train of the accident, Brantley Mallard's first name on the list of
victims, he waited for a second telegram to confirm the exact authenticity, and
quickly banned other friends who were less cautious and gentle about speaking to
the sad newsletter to the wife.

My sister didn't listen to the news of her husband's death like any other woman
who had to face the same situation: couldn't accept the incident, she cried out
suddenly and exhausted herself in my arms, and when the terrible emotional storm
passed, she went back to the room alone and didn't want anyone to follow her, and
at that time I was really worried about my sister. She would do nothing bad because
she had confined herself in a room alone. Fortunately, however, our house had
CCTVs all over the room, so I could watch my sister's behavior all the time, and I
watched my sister's behavior through CCTV, and for a while, I saw my sister's
behavior, which was that she looked at the window. She looked at the tops of the
trees in front of the house swaying with spring vitality, the smell of fresh rain floating
in the clouds. At the foot of the street, there was a peddler screaming for
merchandise, and the voice of someone singing came from far away. Many sparrows
were crying at the eaves, and the crescents of the blue sky, overlooking the clouds,
were stacked in layers when viewed through her window in the west.

And then she sat and leaned her head on the backrest. She didn't move at all,
except when sobbing up to her throat made her body tremble like a baby crying to
sleep and sobbing. Next in a dream, my sister was young and beautiful, traces of
calm, cold face, showing patience and strength, her eyes were dim, and she stared.
To the blue sky, I saw my sister looking aimlessly out. But I felt as if my sister was
thinking about what was going to happen. And as if she was waiting for something
that was going to happen with trepidation, which she didn't know what it was, the
occult things were hard to explain, but she perceived that it slowly crept out of the
sky into her voice, smell, and color in the atmosphere, and she began to panic. As far
as what would happen to herself, she tried to fight to push it away, as much as her
weak, weak hands could do. When she stopped caring about fighting, a faint whisper
escaped her thin lips, she repeatedly said, "Free, free, I'm free, " I heard my sister talk
through CCTV, and I saw her eyes wide, bright, pulsating, warm blood flowing and
relaxing throughout the body.

Afterward, she did not stop asking herself if this strange joy or what had happened
to her, a clear understanding made her think it was a trifle, she knew that she would
cry again. When she recalled kindness, her two gentle, kind hands were only numb,
her face that never looked at her without love and warmth was more firm, cold, and
free. Feel it, but when she comes to her mind these moments reach the days to go
on for a long time will truly be her own. She stretched out her arms to welcome what
would happen with joy, that she no longer had to live for herself, that no power
would force her eyes to be dark, holding on to the obligation that both women and
men think he or she has the right to intrude on her spouse's private life, whether that
intention is benevolent or cruel, is submissive. It is no less a crime, yet she loves her
husband sometimes, but often she doesn't feel loved by her husband at all. What's
important is that love is still a deep mystery. It's the self that you think is important.
It's the strength that motivates your face to shine. "I'm free, body and soul." I heard
my sister talk on CCTV again and I understood my sister's true feelings.

Then I rushed to my sister's room, and I knelt in front of the door of the sealed
room, and I begged her through the keyhole to open the door. "Louise, open the
door. Please, open the door. You'll make yourself sick. Louise, what are you doing for
God's sake? Open the door. " I said " Get away from me. I'll be fine. "My sister said,
she was indulging herself in the tapestry of the mind that had been received through
this open window, and she whispered, praying for long life, though yesterday she was
still afraid to think of a long life, and then my sister slowly rose up and opened the
door to me who was begging in front of the door, and I saw her eyes shining with
excitement at us. Relate to victory as if you were the goddess of victory. She held my
waist and walked down the stairs together, Richard had been waiting for us
downstairs.

But then someone unlocked the door of the house, which was Brently Mallard
himself, and he had a slight trace of fatigue from the journey, his cell phone, his
pocket and umbrella, a calm, thrill less state, which he was very far from the
accident site, and then he had to stand dumbfounded by my screams, and Richard,
who quickly stepped in, kept him from his wife. His was visible, but…….Richard was
already too late, and when the doctor arrived, he concluded that my sister had died
of heart disease. For joy had taken her life. After that, I kept crying, for I had lost my
beloved sister.

THE ENDMMSNSN..OOSS..U1U155WWIAIADTDTPP:H:HAA6A6ATT44NNP0P0K
K
A1A11Y1TYT00OTOT33AUAU00N0N0A1A100SS33IINN00GG

BY KATE CHOPIN (1894)