I’ve read alot of stories, but that one was just…strange. On the surface, the premise seemed simple: a man and a woman sitting down, having beer and waiting for a train – but as they talk, I could’nt shake the feeling that there was more to it then was revealed in the story. There was just something “odd” about thier conversation, it was as if they were planning something, something huge, something radical, the way they talked about it, with a mixed of excitement and fear. It felt like the I was reading the prolouge of a novel: not enough to know whats happening, but enough to know that, whatever it is, has to be interesting.
“Hills like White Elephants” Response
September 30, 2009 by Cris P.
Posted in "Hills Like White Elephants" by Ernest Hemingway | Leave a Comment
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