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Mist experience with strangeness happens when her planet is being 'modified' by 'Earthers' who are now influencing her people to get their throat cut in order to be able to speak. Her daughter, wants to go through this, and once she does, she questions their practices and traditions, even insulting her mother and their people when she claims that they are very loud.

"Flowers-in-the-Sun did not lake her mother's hand. She glanced at her cousin, then turned to her mother. 'Perhaps', she signed, 'we should not hold hands.' 'We must hold hands,' Mist answered. 'It's part of the festival. The Mothers and Daughters walk the procession together until we reach the town square. Then we do the responsive dance,' Flowers-in-the-Sun shrugged. 'Mother, look around. The Earthers are watching us. And the girls my age aren't holding their mothers' hands.' Mist lifted up her eyes and studied the crowd around her. It was true -true and strange - the mothers of older children were definitely not holding their children. They weren't even walking with them. In fact, the mothers all seemed lost, forgotten, childless as they stood on the edge of the road, their backs against the high walls of the clidd. Their lost eyes watched dejectedly as their children chattered on in animated mouth-talk with other children. In her new green dress and green marriage scarf, Mist stood in the middle of the road glaring at Flowers-in-the-Sun. 'Am I to be like those women?' she asked. 'Standing on the sidelines like a childless woman, while your life passes me by?' She grabbed Flowers-in-the-Sun's hand and the child stared up guiltily into her mothers eyes and began walking by her mother's side. But as her mother marched ahead, she looked behind at her cousin, smiled, and whispered something her mother could not hear."

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In this story, Ivan decided not to have his coffee but instead to have bread for breakfast. A he is cutting his slice in half, he discovers a nose, which he recognizes. He and his wife are confused and afraid, so he takes measures into his own hands. It was strange to have a nose in his bread in the first place.

"For the sake of propriety, Ivan Yakovlevich put his tailcoat on over his undershirt and, settling at the table, poured out some salt,prepared two onions, took a knife in his hands, and, assuming a significant air, began cutting the bread. Having cut the loaf in ~ o , he looked into the middle and, to his surprise, saw somethmg white. Ivan Yakovlevich poked cautiously with his knife and felt with his finger. "Firm!" he said to himself. "What could it be?" He stuck in his fingers and pulled out-a nose! ... Ivan Yakov- levich even dropped his arms; he began rubbing his eyes and feel- ing it: a nose, precisely a nose! and, what's more, it seemed like a familiar one. Terror showed on Ivan Yakovlevich's face. But this terror was nothing compared to the indignation that came over his

wife. "Where did you cut that nose off, you beast?"· she shouted

wrathfully. "Crook! Drunkard! I'll denounce you-to the police myself! What a bandit! I've heard from three men already that you pull noses so hard when you give a shave that they barely stay

attached." ·
But Ivan Yakovlevich was more dead than alive. He recognized

this nose as belonging to none other than the collegiate assessor Kovalev, whom he shaved every Wednesday and Sunday.

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JOURNEY BACK TO THE SOURCE by Alejo Carpentier

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JOURNEY BACK TO THE SOURCE by Alejo Carpentier

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The strangeness that happens in this story begins with the tale of Marcial's life. In this story, the time seems to go backwards in time, so everything is in reverse, basically finding its old ways.

"Huriger, thirst, heat, pain, cold. Hardly had Marcial reduced his field of 'perception to these essential realities when he renounced the light that accompanied them. He did not know his name. The unpkasantness of the christening over, he had no desire for smells, sounds, or even sights. His hands caressed delectable forms. He was a purely sensory and tactile being. The universe penetrated him through his pores. Then he shut his eyes-they saw nothing but nebulous giants-and entered a warm, damp body full of_shad- ows: a dying body. Clothed in this body's substance, he slipped

toward life. But now time passed more quickly, rarefying the final hours. The minutes sounded like cards slipping from beneath a dealer's thumb."