📘 ❞ Gone Girl ❝ رواية ــ Gillian Flynn اصدار 2012
Stories and novels - 📖 رواية ❞ Gone Girl ❝ ــ Gillian Flynn 📖
█ _ Gillian Flynn 2012 حصريا رواية ❞ Gone Girl ❝ عن New York : Crown 2025 Girl: Girl When I think of my wife, always her head The shape it, to begin with very first time saw her, it was the back the head saw, and there something lovely about angles of Like a shiny, hard corn kernel or riverbed fossil She had what the Victorians would call a finely shaped You could imagine skull quite easily Iʼd know her head anywhere And whatʼs inside I think that too: her mind Her brain, all those coils, and thoughts shuttling through those coils like fast, frantic centipedes child, I picture opening skull, unspooling brain and sifting trying to catch pin down her thoughts Stories novels مجاناً PDF اونلاين هذا القسم يحتوي علي العديد من القصص والروايات باللغة الإنجليزية This section contains many stories in English (Stories novels) والروايات: الرواية هي سرد نثري طويل يصف شخصيات خيالية أو واقعية وأحداثاً شكل قصة متسلسلة كما أنها أكبر الأجناس القصصية حيث الحجم وتعدد الشخصيات وتنوع الأحداث وقد ظهرت أوروبا بوصفها جنساً أدبياً مؤثراً القرن الثامن عشر والرواية حكاية تعتمد السرد بما فيه وصف وحوار وصراع بين وما ينطوي عليه ذلك تأزم وجدل وتغذيه A novel is relatively long work narrative fiction, normally written prose form, which typically published as book present English word for fiction derives from Italian novella "new", "news", "short story something new", itself Latin novella, singular noun use neuter plural novellus, diminutive novus, meaning "new" Walter Scott made distinction between novel, (as he it) "events are accommodated to ordinary train human events modern state society" romance, defined "a fictitious verse; interest turns upon marvellous uncommon incidents"
Gone Girl
When I think of my
wife, I always think of her
head. The shape of it, to
begin with. The very first
time I saw her, it was the
back of the head I saw,
and there was something
lovely about it, the angles
of it. Like a shiny, hard
corn kernel or a riverbed
fossil. She had what the
Victorians would call a
finely shaped head. You
could imagine the skull
quite easily.
Iʼd know her head
anywhere.
And whatʼs inside it. I
think of that too: her
mind. Her brain, all those
coils, and her thoughts
shuttling through those
coils like fast, frantic
centipedes. Like a child, I
picture opening her skull,
unspooling her brain and
sifting through it, trying to
catch and pin down her
thoughts.
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