Corpúsculo Parodia En Inglés De Crepúsculo

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

THE HARVARD LAMPOON

nightlight
The first volume of theHarvard Lampoon appeared in February, 1876. Written by seven undergraduates and modeled onPunch , the British humor magazine, the debut issue took the Harvard campus by storm. U.S. President Ulysses S. Grant was advised not to read the magazine, as he would betoo much “in stitches” to run the government.

CONTENTS
1.FIRST LOOK 2.RESCUE 3.HAND PRICK 4.RESEARCHES

Page 1

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

5.SHOPPING 6.WOODS 7.THE MULLENS 8.THE CEMETERY 9.INVITATION 10.VAMPIRE PROM 11.RIGHTFUL PLACE

1. FIRST LOOK
THE HOT PHOENIX SUN GLARED DOWN ON THE CARwindowsill where my bare, pallid arm dangledshamelessly. My mom and I were both going to the airport, but only I had a ticket waiting for me, and that ticket was one-way. I had a dejected, brooding expression on my face, and I could tell from the reflection in the window that it was also an intriguing expression. It seemed out of place, coming from a girl in a sleeveless, lacy top and bell-bottom jeans (stars on the back pockets). But Iwas that kind of girl—out of place. Then I shifted from that place on the dashboard to a normal position in the seat. Much better. I was exiling myself from my mom’s home in Phoenix to my dad’s home in Switchblade. As a self-exiled exile, I would know the pain of Diaspora and the pleasure of imposing it, callously disregarding my own pleas to say one last good-bye to the potted fungus I wascultivating. I had to coarsen my skin if I was going to be a refugee in Switchblade, a town in northwest Oregon that no one knows about. Don’t try to look it up on a map—it’s notimportant enough formapmakers to care about. And don’t even think about looking me up on that map—apparently, I’m not important enough either. “Belle,” my mom pouted in the terminal. I felt a pang of guilt, leaving her to fend forherself in this huge, friendless airport. But, as the pediatrician said, I couldn’t let her separation anxiety prevent me from getting out of the house for eight or so years. I got down on my knees and held her hands. “Belle is only going to be gone forthe rest of high school , okay? You’re going to have a lot of fun with Bill, right Bill?” Bill nodded. He was my new stepdad and the only otherperson available to take care of her while I was gone. I can’t say I trusted him, but he was cheaper than a sitter. I straightened up and crossed my arms. It was time to cut the crap. “The emergency numbers are above the phone in the kitchen,” I told him. “If she gets hurt, skip the first two—they’re your cell phone and Domino’s. I’ve cooked enough meals to last you both the first month if you splitone-third of a Stouffer’s Lasagna a day.”

Page 2

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

My mom smiled at the thought of lasagna. “You don’t have to go, Belle,” said Bill. “Sure, my street-hockey team is going on tour, but only around the neighborhood. There’s plenty of space in the car for you, your mom and me to live.” “It’s no big deal. I want togo. I want to leave all of my friends and the sunlight for a small, rainy town. Making you happy makes me happy.” “Please stay—who will pay the bills when you leave?” I could hear my boarding number being called. “I bet Bill can run faster than Mom to the nice Jamba Juice man!” “I am the fastest!” my mom shouted. As they ran off, Bill pulling her shirt to get ahead, I slowly backed away into thegate, through the jet bridge, and onto the plane. None of us were very good at saying good-bye. For some reason, it always came out good-BUH. I was nervous about reuniting with my dad. He could be distant. Twenty-seven years of being the only window-wiper in Switchblade had forced him to distance himself from others by at least a windowpane. I recall my mom breaking down crying on the sofa after...