Farenheight 451: Narrative from Mrs. Bowels' Perspective

     I slammed the front door behind me and slid down it, my hands shaking and my breathing ragged. I was quite shaken up indeed. I could not believe that Montag had the audacity to read such a horrid story from his book. He has a book. He must be completely off his rocker. Well, I'm sure he'll be pleased to know what the council thinks of it, once I inform them.
     I stood up and brushed the gravel off my pants, suddenly unaware of why I was on the ground in the first place. What a strange thing to do, sit outside when we have chairs inside of our parlor! I walked briskly, eager to get back to my home and listen to my seashells. But suddenly, a strange feeling came over me. I slowed down and noticed something quite peculiar about the trees around me. Their leaves were no longer green, but rather a sea of colors ranging from dark purple to yellow. The air was cool and I could feel it each time I took a breath. At that moment, I remembered something a man had said to me once, not too long ago. I believed his name was Montag. "Go home and think of your first husband divorced and your second one killed in a jet and your third husband blowing his brains out," he had said. "Go home and think of that and your damn Caesarean sections, too, and your children who hate your guts!"
     My eyes widened and I looked all around me. Everything seemed to have changed. The sky was nearly black, but my mother had always told me it was blue. The trees were swaying and I felt a continuous invisible force blowing onto my face, sweeping my hair back. I was frightened, but everything seemed to hit me all at once like a ton of bricks. I started to think about my last husband, whom I had not thought of in so long. I felt like my heart had sunk into my stomach and my head filled with a million questions.. Why had he put a bullet through his head? Wasn't he happy and at ease? Could I have done anything to stop him? Is this what it feels like to miss someone?
     I walked slowly over to a bench at the side of the road and sat down, dread filling me and my desire to go to the parlor had vanished.