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reallycarlaost
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emobank-single-binary

Dataset card Data Studio Files
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His pen flickered forth, words dancing out from its nib.
1
In the author's eye gleamed the lantern's reflection – or was it a reflection?
1
For while the lantern's spark shivered in the chill breeze, this burn was steady and true as the motion of its owner's pen, scratching out the rhythm of the willow's fingers.
1
The frenzied writing ceased at last, the author leaned back with a slight sigh as if both exhausted and satisfied by his effort.
1
He held a hand to his forehead, eyes closed and face flushed.
2
After all that – so near the end, to lose control again.
2
His face soft as if caught between a smile and tears, he draped his loose cape over her shoulders.
2
"Come, darling,"
1
"Where I am to take you, one need never think of those left behind."
3
His pen cast a forbidding line of shadow slanting across the page, echoing the inky darkness crouching in the edges of the lantern's struggling glow.
1
They took their seats within the car and his driver set the horses trotting.
1
For a few yards, they kicked up dust along the roadway; then they raised their hooves and took to the air.
0
She gaped, afraid but knowing that no harm would come to her by his hand.
2
The New England woods disappeared, even the greatest pines shrinking to insignificance as they mounted the sky.
2
Above them, the Milky Way drew near as if the stars themselves could be reached.
1
Allan crushed the page in his hand and hurled it at the window.
2
"Damn you,"
2
"Damn you," he cried, "will you never leave me be?
2
"will you never leave me be?
2
Shall I never finish a story in peace?"
2
He pounded his desk in vain, cursing the foul muse that drove him.
2
The next day, Allan sat on a florally patterned chair in a well-furnished parlor.
0
"Cucumber sandwich?"
1
"Thank you, Arthur."
1
The only other illumination came from a lurid moonlight filtered through thin branches and clouds, casting its bone-pale glow onto the pine floorboards.
1
In a manner delicately balanced between somber and genial, he refilled their glasses.
0
"How is the writing these days, my dear Mr. Clemm?"
1
"Perfectly dreadful, my dear Mr. Mason,"
2
"Perfectly dreadful, my dear Mr. Mason," Allan sighed.
0
"I had a perfect story in my pages; my hero returned home and reclaimed his love, I nearly had it tied together before…"
1
"Before?"
1
"Before that blasted impulse came over me and I started writing like Edgar Poe – though the most recent was not so morbid as my many others, thank Heaven."
3
Arthur's face assumed a long-suffering aspect of authoritative exasperation.
2
"It's far from a 'penchant,' Arthur.
3
This is more like a compulsion, a beast that lies waiting in the dark for the perfect moment, then leaps and takes ahold of me, screaming out through my quill."
2
Arthur grimaced at the vivid description.
2
The Black Willow
3
"I'm sure you know that you must curb this behavior if you wish to produce any writing fit for public consumption."
2
"I know," Allan replied, "but how am I to do that?
2
"but how am I to do that?
3
You know I do not wish to make my stories thus; but it is my nemesis, confronting me anew at every turn!"
2
Arthur raised a critical brow.
2
Every action you take to deny it nourishment will bring you closer to your goal; and believe me, Allan, you must take every opportunity to quash this uncivilized obsession if you intend to publish.
2
Allan unfolded another page, this one crowded with ranks of letters in tight formation from left to right.
0
"It is true,"
3
"It is true," Allan admitted, fidgeting with his cufflinks, "that I would not dream of submitting one of these corruptions of literature to any publisher.
2
"that I would not dream of submitting one of these corruptions of literature to any publisher.
2
I've even tried rewriting the corrupted sections, but once my characters have gone down that road, nothing can recall their former life.
3
My prodigal ink-blooded children simply lose their vitality when forced along the proper road."
0
"If only you would restrain this morbid impulse of yours, you might write something really worth reading.
3
It's hard enough listening to your wild speech without seeing it appear in the refined world of print, like a surly foreigner among a genteel crowd."
2
Allan hung his head, holding his wine with both hands between his arched knees.
2
His hair was slightly unkempt after his sleepless night, and his clothing had a rumpled look as if, by mere proximity, it had taken on the aspect of his weariness.
2
The lines of letters stepped into their divisions, in the shape of a story's outline: the loose, dry skeleton of a tale lay exposed beneath their feet, awaiting tendons, muscle and blushing skin.
3
"I would drive it out,"
3
"I would drive it out," he said softly, "but I fear for what would remain."
2
"but I fear for what would remain."
2
"Perhaps you require a rest from writing,"
0
"You might find that some time in an honest occupation would ground you somewhat, improve your disposition."
2
"Perhaps it would,"
0
"Perhaps it would," Allan replied, rising and vainly straightening his suit.
0
"I shall consider it; in the meantime, however, I must be off.
3
You have been a gracious host, as always."
1
Arthur rose and shook his hand.
1
"So dear a friend is always welcome to my counsel and my home,"
1
"So dear a friend is always welcome to my counsel and my home," he said.
1
"I hope soon to see you in better sorts."
2
They parted and Allan made his way pensively from Arthur's gate.
2
He walked the wheel-ruts, hands in his pockets and unshined shoes collecting dust.
3
Some quarter-mile from Arthur's gate, he halted, confronted by a halloo.
2
he called out to the empty road.
2
"I had a hunch you'd be at Arthur's today,"
0
"I had a hunch you'd be at Arthur's today," said Nathan, "so I thought I'd wait here for you."
1
"so I thought I'd wait here for you."
1
Nathan's lanky frame, dressed in a loose, tan jacket, fit into the branch like an elegant skeleton.
1
His hair fell loosely across a face that seemed always to have a knowing smirk hidden just beneath its surface, infusing his body with a rakish energy.
2
"So, Allan,"
0
"So, Allan," said Nathan, unfolding and lowering his legs to the roadside, "how goes life for the quintessential American author?"
3
"how goes life for the quintessential American author?"
3
"I wouldn't know,"
2
"I wouldn't know," replied Allan dryly, before continuing in another tone entirely.
2
"I destroyed another story last night, Nathan."
2
Leaning against his tree, Nathan shook his head.
0
"You mean, finished another story."
3
"Yes, it is finished!
1
Never again shall it see the rosy-fingered dawn!
2
Nathan, you've read these abominations of mine.
2
You know just as well as I that they have no future, no potential.
2
Allan reviewed the troops, all prepared to disembark, their task to form the tale of a young man returning home from Life Abroad to find his childhood friend a bride to-be, thus upsetting the apple cart of his life's plan, clarified – of course – by his very time away from her he loved best.
3
At best, they are faery tales; at worst, expeditions into macabre realms no healthy mind need ever see."
2
"So instead, you would write – what?"
0
"Something saleable; something worth reading, worth writing!
1
On a sunny Sunday afternoon, the waiting list was an hour long.
2
After hemming and hawing and assessing my food stash (contents: 10 saltines), I decided to go for it anyway.
3
By the time I got to Asheville, I was nearing the end of my journey and the bottom of my wallet.
2
By the time I finally got a seat at the counter, I was starved.
2
It took me about thirty seconds to pick out the Charleston Chicken Sandwich: "grilled marinated free-range chicken breast on sourdough with melted havarti, romaine lettuce and cranberry mayonnaise".
1
"grilled marinated free-range chicken breast on sourdough with melted havarti, romaine lettuce and cranberry mayonnaise"
1
Free range?
3
Cranberry?
0