Sunset paz latorena
She did not ask questions about it. And she noticed that he was relieved as he was surprised by her strange lack of curiosity. He was keeping the news as a surprise. Was she looking for someone living in the neighborhood? Then, as suddenly as it had come, the rain stopped. The woman was so frightened but the man comfort her and let the woman stay in his shop. When she finally did, she was conscious of a sharp and indignant agony. The new day brought his surprise it was carefully wrapped in fine white paper, and he had it in his pocket when he arrived home from the market. He glanced at her furtively.Yes, the girl in the gaudy sweater hastened inside. Drops of water still glistened on the mass of black hair that was knotted loosely at that back of her head.
The papag creaked unpleasantly as she sat down without a word. It was the cobbler who went to the market; it was the cobbler who hung the wet clothes in the backyard every morning. From somewhere in the distance a church bell made itself heard and tolled the hour.
From somewhere in the distance a church bell made itself heard and tolled the hour. Did any? She was so small, so soft, so still in the flickering candle light. With renewed buoyancy, she moved about the shop the rest of the afternoon, excited, humming a tune as she worked. People might come in, he added. The woman was so frightened but the man comfort her and let the woman stay in his shop. And he chose to let her go. And something she could only feel but not name assumed definite proportions with the dawn.She had been happy, she assured him, because the seorita was kind. The only chair in the shop had been borrowed that afternoon by a neighbor and had not yet been returned; he apologized with an embarrassed laugh.
There was his stool in the middle of the small shop, directly under the red lamp, and there was a small papag in a corner by the small, tightly closed window.
She coughed a dry, unnatural sound that shook her small body from head to foot. In the dim light of the lamp he had not discerned the color of those eyes.
So I came in, she gasped on, but now I shall go. His face was pale in the late afternoon light; his hands were none too steady.
What is the theme of the story sunset by paz latorena
Seen through the little window, the sky of night, so smooth, so bestarred, looked wrinkled through her screen of unshed tears. She stood before him expectantly, her eyes starry bright. The new day brought his surprise it was carefully wrapped in fine white paper, and he had it in his pocket when he arrived home from the market. The rain darted in and awoke him from his trance- like immobility and silence. The woman had fallen asleep. The woman had fallen asleep. He would marry her. Drops of water still glistened on the mass of black hair that was knotted loosely at that back of her head. A long silence bridged the charm of speech. He glanced at her furtively. She had been working in the house of a vaudeville star.The water streamed along the gutters, foaming at the heaps of filth congested there, rejected scraps of food, bits of yellow paper, pieces of rags, and untidy dirt.