Personal Narrative: My Dear Stella

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I don’t understand. My dear Stella lives in such a raffish flat! The place is in the middle of a slum and looks so rundown in the middle of the city. It was no better once I entered. There were only three puny rooms: the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen; all were equally horrendous in condition. This flat is worthless compared to the grandeur of Belle Reve! The plantation was glorious with its great, green, and open rural lands. It is so magnificent and natural. This enclosed flat pales in comparison to Belle Reve. I’m appalled that she could even stand the thought of living in such a ghetto. Nonetheless, she told me that “It’s not that bad at all! New Orleans isn’t like other cities” (12), so somehow she is able to stand its foulness. How would she be convinced to live in such an atrocious place? It must have been the brute that she married: Stanley. That Polack somehow managed to convince my dear Stella that living in a slum was a brilliant idea! My dear sister must have at least told him what our plantation looked like, so he should know the type of place that she deserves to live in. Yet, since I see that she lives here, that pea-brained man must have concocted a miraculous excuse that managed to convince my dear Stella to live in such a ghetto. Then again, Stella does seem to love him very …show more content…

When I first saw him in the flesh, the Polack looked so animalistic and passionate in all of his movements. Who knows what goes on inside that ungentlemanly brain of his? He even had the nerve to take his shirt off in front of me, when he told me he wanted to “make [him]self comfortable”. It felt quite inconsiderate, taking one’s shirt in front of a pampered lady. I tried my best to be polite and give him the benefit of the doubt. I did not want to give him a bad impression of me. I think I fooled him well enough. I certainly do not want him to know about everything that I went through in the

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