Unknown Story

Ms.Emily Grierson at her dad's funeral

The town never saw Ms.Emily but they saw a young man going in and out with a market basket.

Ms.Emily's Neighbors poured things on her lawn to make the bad smell get better

Ms.Emily walked back to her house after buying stuff for her Husband

Ms.Emily bought Arsenic

The town found a fleshless skeleton inside Ms.Grierson's house in the blocked-off room.

“That was two years after her father’s death and a short time after her sweetheart—the one we believed would marry her—had deserted her. After her father’s death she went out very little; after her sweetheart went away, people hardly saw her at all”.

“After her sweetheart went away, people hardly saw her at all. A few of the ladies had the temerity to call, but were not received, and the only sign of life about the place was the Negro man—a young man then—going in and out with a market basket.”

“So the next night, after midnight, four men crossed Miss Emily's lawn and slunk about the house like burglars, sniffing along the base of the brickwork and at the cellar openings while one of them performed a regular sowing motion with his hand out of a sack slung from his shoulder. They broke open the cellar door and sprinkled lime there, and in all the outbuildings.”

“So she had blood-kin under her roof again and we sat back to watch developments. At first, nothing happened. Then we were sure that they were to be married. We learned that Miss Emily had been to the jeweler’s and ordered a man’s toilet set in silver, with the letters H. B. on each piece. Two days later we learned that she had bought a complete outfit of men’s clothing, including a nightshirt, and we said, “They are married.”

“Is . . . arsenic? Yes, ma’am. But what you want—``'' I want arsenic.”

¨For a long while we just stood there, looking down at the profound and fleshless grin. The body had apparently once lain in the attitude of an embrace, but now the long sleep that outlasts love, that conquers even the grimace of love, had cuckolded him. What was left of him, rotted beneath what was left of the nightshirt, had become inextricable from the bed in which he lay; and upon him and upon the pillow¨ beside him lay that even coating of the patient and biding dust.