Category: Coffeehouse #2 (Page 2 of 2)

One place that I can describe in great detail is my old apartment. This was the first home I had when I migrated from Jamaica to America, it’s one home to  never forget. I can remember seeing tall buildings you could imagine those buildings where it’s going to fall on you. I lived on the 6th floor which is the top top floor and I can look through my barricaded windows at other tall buildings, when I look down and see people it’s as if I’m looking at ants that’s how tall the building was. It was a pretty long block, and school was around the corner from my home. It was  walking distance which was fun going and coming from school because everyday was an adventure. My favorite part of the apartment was the hallways, there were other children who would come out with me and my brother’s and we would play all kind of games like hide and seek, tag; we would play in the hallways because the floors were marbled tiles and no one would complain of us making noise over their heads. The walls were a cream off-white color, with a touch burgundy on the elevator. Before you enter the building you would see these beautiful red roses, and freshly planted green plants. Those plants and roses gave a calm nice vibes as you enter the building. As I sit in front the window I could look up and see the beautiful blue sky with the sun shinning into the living room . I would sit there take in the sun and just listen to the noise of cars passing by. It was a one way street so you would hear cars honking and people yelling at each other to move or dogs barking when they see other dogs or people passing by. That living room spot by the window was my go to spot, sometimes I do wish I could go back sit there take in the sun, noise and sky.

In the short story “It Had to Be Murder” by Cornell Woolrich after reading there were a few question that came across my mind. Where did Mr. Thorwald know to look? What happened to the wife after people knew she left town due to her health? Does the neighbors have each other’s numbers?

One area I know in great details is the area I grew up in Haiti to be specific I used to live my father house with brother in the countryside west Haiti, in a land that my grandfather left for my fathers and his siblings, the land has 4 houses and many different types of plants and gardens because my grandfather was a farmer, some of those plants include peas and cherry in the front portion, papaya trees in the back portion of the land, breadfruit, soursop, different types of mangos trees, quenepa and many more all over the place. my aunt’s house which is in the front portion of the land facing the main road right next to it is my father’s house facing the road that crosses the main road and there other two houses are my uncles which are in the back portion of the land.  in a 5 room house a big living room 3 bedrooms in a kitchen where I lived. lived across the street the street-facing my aunt’s house there is a tire shop and right next to it there is a football field where a lot of kid around my age and some older would go there to play, I and m brother would go there every day to play because that was the most fun thing in the area. Next to my house, there is a little shop where you can buy food, drinks, and much other stuff it’s like a market but it doesn’t sell meat and other things on the floor on top of the food shop there is a place where people would pay to watch football games because football is a big thing to us Haitians. At night you can hear dog crickets noise since I live in the countryside, in weekdays morning I wake up to the smell of street food because there a street vendor that sells patties next to the food shop, on Saturdays it’s the sound of football practice that wake me up, the noise of the players playing, the coaches whistle.

A place that I know in great detail would have to be my parent’s bodega. Our bodega was the classic bodega (minus the cat). That bodega was my second home because when I got picked up from school, I would go to the bodega which was just a few blocks away from my school and a block away from my house. I’d spend the entire afternoon at the very back of the store where I watched PBS kids and do my homework after 5:00 and just hang out until closing time, which was around 9:30pm. Saturday morning was my favorite day because I got to help by bringing in deliveries from Jetro and putting the prices on items with the price label gun. Even though that bodega has been closed since 2007, I still remember the entire layout like the back of my hands, like the cherry red floor tiles and the beige yellow replacement tile with some of it even being chipped off on aisle 3. Aisle 3 had all of the bodega fridges lined up on the right side, starting with the pepsi branded fridge, coke branded fridge and the standard bodega fridges in the back. At the very front of aisle 3 was a small door that led to the counter with a hand operated pencil sharpener near the door and behind the counter were four shelves that had my toy cars which had a sign that said “Cars are not for sale”. My favorite area to play with my cars were behind the candy shelves that were on the counter because I liked playing in private. Customers could hardly see me behind the candy shelves and it was very dim, but I could see them.

1. Was Thorwald planning on escaping or commit suicide by jumping?
2. Did everyone living there all had their neighbors phone numbers? Was Thorwald calling everyone else or he knew from the beginning that it was Jeff?

My room has always been my safe place, from my bed to the walls that confine me to this space that surrounds me. It is the one place that I know really well. My aura exists within this space, my life force which I see every time I walk through my doors. From the hallway you see a plain white door, something that wouldn’t naturally peak your interest. White and boring, but beyond that you find the answers to all your troubles. From the doorway you see the energy floating, the life force that comes from me, from the mahogany framed bed located by the window to the matching dresser to the side of the right wall everything is covered with a distinctive shade of happiness.The walls are white as well, decorated with self made art work and memories from a lifetime full of fun and adventure. The pictures and art all tell stories both of subconscious and conscious experiences.The rack of clothing is decorated with seasonally appropriate clothes, now with sweaters, sweatpants and all types of warm fabric derived from warm earth tones. To the left side of the wall is the mirror which shares its reflection with me, two forms of existence in one space, a reflection of the illusion and then the actual reality. You turn near the mirror and look to see an altar, decorated with Hindu Gods and flowers as a form of Prashad, which in translation means a gracious gift. They sit, blessing the room and keeping it safe. Right next to it is the closet, which when you open it smells of the season themselves, so many colors blur your vision, so many choices and an elaborate explanation of my personality. On the floor is a rug colored to match the bed, aesthetics they say. It gives a safe place for meditation and relaxation. My space and area of relation is small and plain but it is exactly what brings me peace. I can run away from reality and exist peacefully within this small space.

When reading the short story there is an implication that both the narrator and Mr.Thorwald are hunting from within their own spaces which are their apartments. Does this mean that Thorwald had the ability to be a more than calculated killer? If Mrs. Thorwald was already dead, who was the woman that opened the trunk and what was her relation to Mr. Thorwald?

A place a know in great detail would be my grandmother’s house back in North Carolina. A White House with blue shutters and a blue porch on a street with houses up and down the block. The houses are close enough you could probably smell the neighbors food if the windows are open. Looking from the outside you will notice the  always freshly cut grass and the small garden of flowers lining the walkway up the steps. The front porch has a 2 seater swing that’s coated with  chipped white paint that has been there for years and clearly untouched. As you walk into the home you will see a sitting area that no one ever sits in but its filled with pictures of the family ranging from baby pictures to wedding pictures and cute little angel statues that my grandma likes to collect. During Christmas we use that are to place the tree. That common area has a wide long window that if the shades were open you could see straight through the house. To the right of the common area is the master bedroom and then there’s the living room and that’s where we gather for all occasions and holidays. The master bedroom has window that’s facing the street view. When dark you see the light from the bedroom beaming through the shades. The living room is but so big but we always seem to still gather there in spite of the limited space. To the right of the living room is another bedroom which has a window facing a neighbors brick home. Not the best view but that room is hardly used and to add the bathroom in inconveniently located in that room. Straight ahead of the living room is the kitchen and the kitchen is connected to the laundry room and a door that leads to the backyard. Sadly the backyard has been highly neglected. The grass could probably reach your knees and who knows what kind of creepy crawlers are living in there.

My Question about this story is if the wife’s death was not real, what happened to her or where is she ?

The place I know in great detail is the house I grew up in back in my country. I still remember it to this day even after the reconstruction. It was a 5 bedroom house with two big living rooms, all in a single floor. We also had farmland in the backyard. As you look in from the street view, you would see a big burgundy door with beautiful designs on it; I remember when we first got it, I was so excited. As entering the house you would see the living room to the right; it was barely used, but I loved how spacious it was. To get to the other bedrooms we had to walk a little; (the way my country builds houses is different) it was more like 5 separate houses. The other living was where we spent a lot of time in, we ate dinner, played around, and had the most guests in. Walking out of the living room we had a big patio and a big sofa, where we sometimes ate lunch. From the patio we take a couple of steps to make our way to the kitchen; and the backyard that is all on the right side. To the left, we had the bedrooms where I shared with my sisters. In Front of the bedrooms, we had another huge patio with swings on it. And lastly on to the back was the bathrooms. The living room, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the bathrooms are all separate, so to get to them we had to walk a little. However, we had this huge backyard where we grew out vegetables.

The questions I have after reading the “It Had to Be Murder” by Cornell Woolrich is that how did Mr.Thorwald know where to look and how did he manage to call the narrator? After the talk, we know that the narrator failed in finding where the body was; where Mr.Thorwald called him a liar. How did he manage to find the number and look at the narrator? Another question I have is how did the narrator’s phone get disconnected? The narrator said that his phone wire has been cut off, but we know that Mr.Thorwald did not get into the narrator’s house( I might be mistaken. I am not sure if he actually got into the house. What I thought was, by reading it, that he came through the window and then said “You-” and that’s where the narrator pushed him to the ground).

The place I know in great detail is the house I grew up in back in my country. I still remember it to this day even after the reconstruction. It was a 5 bedroom house with two big living rooms, all on a single floor. We also had farmland in the backyard. As you look in from the street view, you would see a big burgundy door with beautiful designs on it; I remember when we first got it, I was so excited. As entering the house you would see the living room to the right; it was barely used, but I loved how spacious it was. To get to the other bedrooms we had to walk a little; (the way my country builds houses is different) it was more like 5 separate houses. The other living was where we spent a lot of time in, we ate dinner, played around, and had the most guests in. Walking out of the living room we had a big patio and a big sofa, where we sometimes ate lunch. From the patio we take a couple of steps to make our way to the kitchen; and the backyard that is all on the right side. To the left, we had the bedrooms where I shared with my sisters. In Front of the bedrooms, we had another huge patio with swings on it. And lastly on to the back was the bathrooms. The living room, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the bathrooms are all separate, so to get to them we had to walk a little. However, we had this huge backyard where we grew out vegetables.

The questions I have after reading the “It Had to Be Murder” by Cornell Woolrich is that how did Mr.Thorwald know where to look and how did he manage to call the narrator? After the talk, we know that the narrator failed in finding where the body was; where Mr.Thorwald called him a liar. How did he manage to find the number and look at the narrator? Another question I have is how did the narrator’s phone get disconnected? The narrator said that his phone wire has been cut off, but we know that Mr.Thorwald did not get into the narrator’s house( I might be mistaken. I am not sure if he actually got into the house. What I thought was, by reading it, that he came through the window and then said “You-” and that’s where the narrator pushed him to the ground).

In my home country (Dominican Republic), there is this place near my aunt’s house where I use to go  almost every time  that I was at her house, this place is a national park  which is very famous because in that park there’s a  big white building known as el Monumento a Los Heroes de la Restauracion (monument to the heroes of Restauration) that is kind of  a museum, inside it smell like the varnish that is covering the mahogany shelves, that holds  some of the country history, this monument counts with  four floors which can be accessed by elevator or  through the stairs which are made in white marble  and them it has a big tower with three hundred and sixty-five steps that take you to the very top of the building where there’s a statue of with two faces one looking at the south and one on the north, in order to be in this area you   you need to wear a harness, in the first-floor outside of this building (park area) there’s are places where you can sit and watch people walking by , and the surroundings of the park , sinsce this park/monument is located at the center and tallest place of the city you can see almost the whole city like the movie theater that is like twenty-five minutes away, mountaints that sorround the city  , but the places that you can see the most things are the bar that is in the southwest side of the monument  on which you can hear what music is being  played, see the people drinking and smoking hookah , the parking lot that is in the north side of the building ,where somethimes fairs are host there and you can see the people playing on the attraction and some times eating in the food trucks that park there , from the same exact position you can see the  horse carriges that takes you around the park for $25 Dominicam pesos per person and from the from you can see the national  theater where some times you can see  the musical performance from the outside.

After reading the story the only two questions thta i have are: 

1. was everything that we read from the character point of view part of his imagination or did it actually happend?
2. whta was inside the trunk that the character mentions?

My apartment building comes to a curve in the middle so when you are in my living room looking out the window you are able to see all the apartments, we are in the middle of all the apartments. Most of the time you are able to see, hear, and smell when our neighbour is outside the window smoking her cigarette, since our apartments are pretty close. Her and her son usually hang on the balcony every Saturday in the morning. They usually have a cup of coffee or eating breakfast. Sometimes we will join them because our balcony is right next to theirs. Our other neighbor on our floor, you can always tell when he gets home because the first thing he does is blast his rock music, most of the time he plays along with it because he now has a guitar. We have a lot of children in our apartment, so on nice days a lot of them will go to the front and play either football, baseball, or kickball. Others will run around or draw pictures on the sidewalk with chalk. Another view from our apartment are all the dogs that live here. We have a lot of dogs in our apartment building, us being included, you can always see or hear when the dogs are out because it sets off our dogs. Not a lot of things happen in our apartment building, we all know each other and help each other out. This story just made me think about how many other women left their town due to their health during that time, or even years prior to this story being released. A lot of women’s health was not acknowledged during this or any other time. The question I still have about “It Had to Be Murder” by Cornell Woolrich, is what happened to the wife after everyone found out that she left town due to her health.

Hi Class,

This is where we will post Coffeehouse Post #2.