As I was clenching the charred piece of wood in anger at the lie that we had all been living in, the piece of wood started to glow and I was transported to a different location. This time, I was transported to in front of a great mansion on Long Island Sound. It was night and there was a magnificent party going on in the mansion. I, anticipating a great time ahead, entered the party and stood with my mouth hanging wide open. The person who owned this mansion had to be a king. It was the most ornate thing that I had ever seen. From the entry way to the chandeliers to even the door knobs – everything screamed extravagance. While entering the mansion, I was given the boa that I have still kept in my possession. …show more content…
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The Seashell – The Catcher in the Rye
As I looked at the flowers that Thoreau had collected during his time near Walden pond, they started to glow an intense violet color and I was transported once again. This time I found myself in front of the Museum of Natural History in the 20th Century. Loving museums, I entered the museum and I saw a very distinctive person in the museum gift shop, observing seashells. His bright red hunting cap made him stand out like a sore thumb. I went over to see what he was looking at and he started to converse with me. It looked like something was bothering him. Holden, as he introduced himself, started talking about the seashell was constant. No matter how much time passed and how many people changed, the seashell would stay a seashell and not much of it would change. The more that I thought about what Holden said, the more I came to see that he was right. Everything is always in flux and that is scary for some, like Holden. Those like him, like to hook onto the constants in life and that provides them with …show more content…
This time I ended up in front of a 20th century house in a gridlocked city. It was a very dull house and from inside I could hear two people yelling. After a while I went to the front door to see what was happening but thought that it would be best not to intrude. So I went by the fence and listened in to the conversation. It seemed that an old man was taking about his seeds and how he did not have them in the ground yet. At first I was confused as to why two grown men would be arguing about a bunch of seeds, but as time went by, I began to understand the situation. The Old man was in a desperate condition as he had just been fired and he was not making enough money to support himself or his family. The planting of the seeds was symbolic for him having his feet planted firmly. The man did not have a source of income and so no stability and that is why he was lamenting about the seed not being in the