Answer:
the door creaked and a rectangle of light fell onto the magazine that jim was reading.he looked up. I went into the lobby. I am nineteen,tall and thin.
"looking for someone?: he asked from me
"no" I said.my long fingers trambled as the fumbled with the buttons of my coat.
"well,may I help you with something?:
"no" I dropped my coat onto the worn tweed sofa and sat down slowly. in the light from the window my pale cheeks gleamed as if wet.
he is sick Jim thought going over him.a narrow hand reached out and seized my wrist,cold,strong fingers twining around my arm like vines or snakes.jim fought the impulse to pull away ,looking down instead into my troubled , gray eyes...
I think it is correct
can you give me a brainliest....
Can you be a little more specific
Explanation:
she uses experiences from her own life
Whitman celebrates the common person
