Then he was shouting "Help! His head moved, and in faint reflection from the glass before him he saw the yellow paper clenched in his front teeth. At the same instant he saw, between his legs and far below, Lexington Avenue stretched out for miles ahead.
He held the flame to the paper in his mouth till it caught. Behind him he heard the slap of the window curtains against the wall and the sound of paper fluttering from his desk, and he had to push to close the door.
He saw, in that instant, the Loew's theater sign, blocks ahead past Fiftieth Street; the miles of traffic signals, all green now; the lights of cars and street lamps; countless neon signs; and the moving black dots of people.
If it broke, his fist smashing through, he was safe; he might cut himself badly, and probably would, but with his arm inside the room, he would be secure. He didn't know how many dozens of tiny sidling steps he had taken, his chest, belly, and face pressed to the wall; but he knew the slender hold he was keeping on his mind and body was going to break.
He opened his mouth and took the paper in his teeth pulling it out from under his fingers. The living room of the next apartment to the south projected a yard or more farther out toward the street than this one; because of this the Beneckes paid seven and a half dollars less rent than their neighbors.
Out of utter necessity, knowing that any of these thoughts might be reality in the very next seconds, he was slowly able to shut his mind against every thought but what he now began to do. It won't bring me a promotion either, he argued--not of itself.
He simply turned to his desk, pulled the crumpled yellow sheet from his pocket, and laid it down where it had been, smoothing it out; then he absently laid a pencil across it to weight it down. Again he drew back his arm, knowing this time that he would not bring it down till he struck.
The psychological impact the daring deed had on the protagonist was presented in a very realistic albeit calculated manner, and the human tendency towards futile regret and the sudden appreciation of the small things in life at times of danger were painted in very vivid colours.
Now he placed the heels of his hands against the top edge of the lower window frame and shoved upward. It was impossible to walk back. Mechanically--right foot, left foot, over and again--he shuffled along crabwise, watching the projecting wall ahead loom steadily closer.
During a lull in the street sounds, he called out. His teeth were exposed in a frozen grimace, the strength draining like water from his knees and calves.
Glancing down, however, measuring the distance from his fist to the glass, he saw it was less than two feet. Quite realistically, he knew that he would fall; no one could stay out here on this ledge for four hours.
Already his legs were cramped, his thigh muscles tired; his knees hurt, his feet felt numb, and his hands were stiff. The reader, too, almost knows that the protagonist will fall, but unfortunately it has the slight drawback of making the complacent reader's attention wane.
Then he was shouting "Help! Then, glancing at the desk across the living room, she said, "You work too much, though, Tom--and too hard. Gripping the bottom of the window frame very tightly and carefully, he slowly ducked his head under it, feeling on his face the sudden change from the warm air of the room to the chill outside.
Then he lost it, his shoulders plunging backward, and he flung his arms forward, his hands smashing against the window casing on either side; and--his body moving backward--his fingers clutched the narrow wood stripping of the upper pane.
Turning, he saw a sheet of white paper drifting to the floor in a series of arcs, and another sheet, yellow, moving toward the window, caught in the dying current flowing through the narrow opening. He struck his fist on the window ledge. But by ducking his head another inch lower, the top of his head now pressed against the bricks, he lowered his right shoulder and his fingers had the paper by a corner, pulling it loose.
The man reading his paper turned a page and then continued his reading. He simply could not do it.“Contents of the Dead Man’s Pocket” is a short story by Jack Finney, originally published by both Good Housekeeping and Collier’s in The story is a suspenseful tale of a man who travels onto a precarious window ledge to retrieve the papers he believes will make his career.
Sep 18, · Summary on Contents of the Dead Man's Pocket: The main character's name is Tom, and he has an important yellow work paper on his desk. All of a sudden, the wind picked up and blew the yellow paper.
Contents of a Dead Man's Pocket 68 terms Allen Greshner, Contents of a Dead Man's Pockets Comprehension and Vocabulary, The Fine Madness of Iditarod, and Appetizer. Contents of the Dead Man's Pockets. Jack Finney. At the little living-room desk Tom Benecke rolled two sheets of flimsy and a heavier top sheet, carbon paper sandwiched between them, into his portable.
Contents of the Dead Man's Pockets JACK FINNEY There are two settings in this story. What is the function of each one? Can you see the relation of setting to the plot? At the little living-room desk Tom Benecke rolled two sheets of flimsi and a heavier top sheet, carbon paper sandwiched between.
In "Contents of the Dead Man's Pocket," Tom Benecke climbs out onto a narrow window ledge to retrieve a piece of paper. This paper includes all the research that he has done on his quest to get a.Download