Dickensian 소설 & 이야기

Dickens had been working in New York for over 10 years. He was an all out office laborer. After over a time of difficult work in New York City, he had a spot to live in. He had recently applied for a new line of credit to purchase a little house in suburbia. His occupation was steady, and he had a lovely little girl who was in secondary school. He was exceptionally blissful. Today, not surprisingly, after work, Dickens turned on the webcast.

Under his imposing gaze, I gulped nervously as I couldn’t find the words to answer him, I somewhat understood Dicken’s train of thought. His intelligence likely had surpassed humans, but he just didn’t have the complicated emotions that humans did. His kind of emotions was primitive and direct. Whatever he liked should be made his, whatever he hated should be killed or destroyed. The complicated norms of human society didn’t inhibit him.

And there he was. Dickens. His presence filled the doorway, tall and self-assured, with that wolfish smile that made strangers mistake him for charming. He carried a bouquet of red roses in one hand and a gift bag in the other. My mother’s eyes lit up instantly, her anger from earlier dissolving like sugar in tea. “Dickens!” she exclaimed, standing up as though royalty had entered her house. “Oh, you shouldn’t have!” He leaned in to kiss her cheek, his voice dripping with politeness. “I couldn’t come empty-handed, Mrs. Grey. You deserve the world for raising such wonderful daughters.”

“That’s your order, Dickson. A double burger and a domestic beer. Is there anything else you would like, or are we done here?” “Now that you’ve asked...” Dickson paused, sliding out of the booth to stand up. He was a head taller than me and smelled of stale cigarettes and body odor. He slowly let his gaze travel down my body, lingering on my chest and hips. “Why don’t we get out of here for a little bit? You’ve clearly moved up in the world, honey. I bet you’ve learned some real interesting tricks. I promise you won’t regret a night with a real man instead of some suit in a penthouse.”

he threatened, keeping his eyes fixed on her. Libia held his gaze. Maybe this was the last time she would be near him, and she felt she had to say something... “Mr. Lison,” she said, summoning her courage, “you’re the most bossy, cruel, and strange man I’ve ever met...” She paused, feeling a tightness in her chest. It was insane. She was sick, having spent so much time with him that she had developed Stockholm syndrome, making her believe she had fallen in love.

he responded. After the call, Dickson returned the phone to the female shop assistant, expressing gratitude. "Thank you!" The shop assistant, taken aback by his tone, replied softly, "You're welcome." Despite Dickson's dishevelled appearance, the shop assistant couldn't resist his cheerful countenance and inherent air of sophistication. Staring directly at Dickson, she couldn't shake the feeling that he bore a striking resemblance to the Mr. Dickson featured in media reports. However, she quickly dismissed the notion, deeming it improbable.