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Below you will find a passage that I imagine was cut from McCarthy's original manuscript. But first please enjoy some photography inspired by the book.

The passage below is something I believe should have been written in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road before the final edition was released.

•          •          •

The creature was watching their every move. A fearsome creature, from the certainty of there being that which was unknown. The cave was was dark. They could feel the very cold death creeping upon them. The black moonlight shined inward through a thick blanket of snow, slowly covering the entrance of the cave to the brim. The boy pulled the blankets over him. The man lie there, being the creature, and he was carrying the fire. The fire was the breath of the creature and it was a monochromatic grey, dying breath. A blanket of ice covered the cave. The breath was the only heat source for the creature and the boy and without it the boy would freeze. As the breath slowly withered away the creature’s heart beat slower and slower. A pitch black silence began to fill the room. The creature was dead. The boy held the creature in his arms and sat there crying for a long time. It was cold and dark. It was bright. A light shined from roof of the cave. Some misshapen creature, slimy, slick, uncertain fell through. It resembled the previous creature. It’s breath was fire and the fire lit the room.

The man woke up coughing. He didn’t check for the boy. He knew he was fine. He wiped the blood off of his mouth. The boy lie awake.

I had a dream

About what?

The boy didnt say anything.

I had a dream too it’s ok

ok.

Below is my rationale to explain the choices I made for my project .

My story includes the dad, the boy, and the man that comes after the dad dies. The boy in the dream is portrayed as the boy (naturally) and the two men are portrayed as the creature(s). I chose to portray these characters this way because throughout the book there are many “creatures”. The creatures are the things that bring uncertainty, which brings danger. These men are mortal, so they are nothing but unpredictable creatures placed upon this world. The boy however is not a creature, rather something closer to an angel. He is filled with motives that show nothing but compassion.

This section goes on page 260 of the book between where the boy said “but we did kill him” and where the book said “In the morning”. I feel like this is a great place to add a dream because it is evident that the man is dying more and more; further in the book we see the man slowly giving up until he reaches his death, and in the book dreams portray things that happen in the future. I wanted to make this the man’s dream (since the book is mainly through the perspective of the man), and a happy one because in the book happy dreams mean you are starting to give up (which the man is). The dream stylistically follows the general decrepit themes of the book, however for the man this is a very happy dream. This is because naturally the man is worried about what will become of the boy when he dies. This dream is reassuring him that everything is going to be alright (as far as the boy goes), and that his god will come through as he has many times throughout the book.  Presumably it is the god that will bring this miraculous coincidence of someone coming to carry the fire and protect the boy after the man dies. This explains some of the man’s actions later on in the book, and explains why he doesn’t check on the boy in this scene nor the scene after.

The conversation is also very important. It adds yet another scene where the boy is distancing himself from the man. It also hints that the boy knows the man will die soon (through this distance). The man is tried relating to the boy when he said that he had a dream too. Stylistically I’ve found the book to use single quotes, but mostly just not in the contractions, so I’ve tried to match that with the word “didnt” (as well as match a few other stylistic choices).

The following passage​ is what I have imagined was cut from Cormac McCarthy's The Road before the final edition was released. It takes place on page 143, in between, "There was no gun and there wasn't going to be one," and, "When he woke the gaslamp overhead was hissing softly."

As he sat on his bunk, he listened to the high winds that surely signaled the start of another storm. Minutes later the rain began. It created an odd noise. It sounded nothing like the familiar sound of rain on the roof of a house. It sounded more like footsteps on the soil above. Thousands of footsteps hitting the ground over their heads. The sound of thunder was muffled, a thunderhum. It was unsettling but also kind of calming. He liked it, so he sat and listened.

After a while it was difficult to keep his eyes open. He had just begun to drift off, but the repetitive nature of the thunderhum and the rainfeet was interrupted and it caught his attention. Actual footsteps? He walked over the the steps and put his head up to the ceiling. Footsteps. Against his better judgement, he swung open the door.

Is anyone there?

There was movement in the dark. He saw a shadow and a pale face. Their eyes met his. Her eyes met his. Her eyes met his. It was her.

He was drenched to the bone already and re-entered the bunker to grab a tarp and the battery lantern. He decided to wake the boy. He was shaking him.

Your mother.

Now the boy was shaking him.

Papa, wake up.

He jolted upright.

She’s out there. I need to see her.

Papa, there’s no one to see!

Realization struck. The man, embarrassed, said, Go back to bed.

The boy did.

(250 words) (McCarthy-esque words: thunderhum, rainfeet)

This is my rationale, explaining why I made these choices for this project.

In my passage, I wanted to focus on the boy's growth over time and how the man acts in contrast to him. I was really interested in the motif of dreams that McCarthy used and decided to give another peek into the man's dreams. The man is constantly dreaming about his wife so I definitely had to include her in it. This reminded me of the incident with the little boy, on page 85, where the man tried to convince the boy that he was imagining things. I thought it would be interesting to have the tables turned this time and make it so that the man is the one who is convinced there is someone there when he is only dreaming. The man is sleep-talking and his voice startles the boy out of his sleep, so he immediately wakes the man. Once the man realizes that the whole previous ordeal with his wife was a dream, he is embarrassed and tells the boy to go back to bed.

When the boy saw the other little boy the man said, “There’s no one to see,” so I made sure to have the boy say the same exact thing to the man. The man remembers that outburst and is not happy that now he is on the other side of the argument. What makes the man even more embarrassed is that in this case, he was most definitely having a dream whereas the boy very well may have actually seen someone else.

The boy springing right into action and knowing how to handle this situation shows his growth and maturity. This passage also highlights the man’s deteriorating mental state. He said that good dreams are bad news and he has been having so many dreams about his wife that it’s clear he isn’t doing so well. The man’s poor health and state of mind is dangerous to the boy since the man’s judgement is not very reliable.

I placed this passage in this location of the book because I wanted there to be no mention of it when they both wake up again. The man completely brushes that off his shoulder and hopes that the boy has forgotten it too. he doesn’t want the boy to be worried about him or realize how unsettled he was by the dream.  

This is how I imagine the ending should have happened. I begin with an excerpt from the final pages that serves as the end of a chapter. The chapter after, indicated by the 3 dots, is my new ending for the book.

Nicholas LePera

27 January 2016

McCarthy Unabridged: The Road, Page 287

. . .

It had been several weeks on the road traveling with his new family. The boy had still not fully accepted the passing of his father and he often woke in the night looking to see if he were there next to him. Each time he quickly brushed off the sadness knowing that this is where papa would want him to be.

The days lived out had hardly changed and he and the others ran the same procedures as before when scouring the wastes. Each creaking door, rustling leaf, and supposed footstep was analyzed and each item surveyed for use. While food continued to be scarce the group still found ways to make miracles out of each closely portioned meal. From time to time they encountered small bands of bandits, but only once were forced to take action.

As each day passed they settled the night in another town, village, or brush of foliage. The days slowly began to get warmer, signifying they were getting closer to what may be salvation. While hopes arose, they also had to prepare for the worst. For if there were to be salvation, there would certainly be villains ready to fight for it.

The boy sat for supper on the side of the road, as was customary. With nothing to clear his mind the boy looked to the sky once again and spoke to his father for the last time.

Rationale:

While Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” is deemed a masterpiece by many, I feel as if the closure of the novel is not in an optimal state. The new family adopted by the boy is mysterious. The kindness shown by them goes to show trust, but can also be used for deception. As a reader I felt as if it was left unclear as to whether or not the boy was with a truly moral group. The state of their resources and whether they would make it or not was a topic that would often pilfer the satisfaction given by the book.

By rewriting and continuing the ending I was able to better tell the possible scenarios that they would encounter and their chances of surviving said encounters. This is something I know many may disagree with, but it is an acceptable uncanonical ending that still maintains the grim themes, and tone created by the vocabulary of McCarthy. The continuation of the basic survival procedures the man taught the boy go to reinforce one of a few motifs touched on in my piece. The tactics and caution of searching the environment for resources is one that buffers the proof that this world is almost certainly devoid of moral.

This continuation of procedures not only adds to the motif but also serves as evidence that the man succeeded in training and preparing this boy to live on without his father. While the boy is apart of a new family, he is not helpless and tasks himself with continuing life as his father taught him. This new group “carries the fire” despite not understanding the meaning of it. As a reader, fire is the hope, and ability to move on against all odds which is what they had done. The fire they held in their hearts allowed them to trek endless miles and scour in the hopes of finally catching up to what may be the last of the sane people left in this world.

When bringing the story to a close I use the boys speaking to his father’s spirit as a means of furthering the idea that the boy has rapidly matured and can survive on his own. Something that is mentioned often in the story is that thinking of the good ol’ times, or the past, is simply a means to your downfall. The boy had this pressed on him many times, and while he still loves his father, he finds it necessary to move on by removing these sentiments.

   This quarter in Art saw a shift to more experimental forms, and because of that, it challenged my more simplistic, feel-of-the-moment style to move to places that need to incorporate more abstract ideas. To that extreme, I think this quarter that I was reasonably successful.

    With projects this quarter such as the collage and illustration, I was able to take the vague inspirations that usually are the driving force behind my art and make them come to life, in ways that I usually were satisfied with.

100.0.0.Racism and stereotypes towards African American human beings.

Now I could sit here all day and talk about the “facts” that this world has created on African Americans on stereotypes. The reason in the last sentence that I put facts in quotes is because they aren’t facts they’re just people who are still following the stereotype, and it’s sad to say because even after years of African Americans doing well and spreading great music,acting,producing,directing,painting etc. A good amount of African Americans have made historic songs and one I’ll name right now is the man who created many pieces that brought the world together or on the same page and he was named Michael Jackson. The man was a phenom and now he’s a legend, but some people don’t even know that he’s actually black but think he’s white and it’s sad that he bleached his skin because he gave the wrong impression to others of why he did it. Many white people were then given opportunities to throw shade on African Americans because they would say harsh things like “You should change like michael” and that hurts to a black man because he could’ve had a skin disease just like michael did, but people don’t think about others and feelings and that was used for when white people treated African Americans like trash because they had the “Upper hand”. They actually didn’t have the upper hand but they kind of did because of the color of there skin. If the world was focused on the importance of people like it is now then I don’t think White people would’ve started or created any type of revolution because African Americans would’ve took the spot of control and would’ve been grateful for the opportunity that they were given. The reasons of why White people didn’t think African Americans were smart was because to be quite honest it wasn’t that they weren’t smart it was that the white people were giving them old books from the 1700’s or hand me downs from when the White people were done using their books in school, but it just wasn’t school even the water the African Americans used wasn’t fresh or even as close to being as fresh as the White people water. If a African American were to even think about getting White people water or use their fountain they’d get beat up terribly and that’s just sad to even think about because it’s kind of silly if you think about it now because they were about to get beat up because of the color their skin and being thirsty… Again it’s very sad to think about something so silly that was taken so serious like wow that’s messed up. If White people were treated like that it would be the whole Army on the African American Guy but even if it was a woman they would’ve been used as a maid for eternity that’s why everyone should celebrate Martin Luther KIng day like it’s their last day to live because he changed all of this and it sheds a tear to this eye to see that he’s gone and couldn’t see his accomplishment because 1 of his accomplishments ended up multiplying and spreading toward billions of people and the message of peace for everyone is still being shown today. The picks of these sections weren’t from sources they were knowledge a thing that some people still don’t think we have today and it’s very sad to say and think that. Other stereotypes are whenever and African American walks in a store it doesn’t mean we’re going to steal anything.

Confidence is key. You may start out completely hating what you do. You might rip it up, throw it away, and try to start over again. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad artist, or your work isn’t the absolute best it can be. You have to keep trying. It won’t always come out perfect in the end, but it’s how you see it is completely different than how it may perceived in the outside world. I had a lot of trouble this time around, because I constantly kept doubting what I could do. In the end, creating art shouldn't be about how much skill you have. It should be fun. You shouldn't stress so much about how amazing it turns out, because overall, being able to create something that others could enjoy is actually pretty epic.

Jamira Terrell

Summertime

A few days had passed since I left home. The house’s aura was dull and draining. Words can't explain how excited I was to get a text from my best friend: “Yo Jamira, I gotta show I’m performing at this weekend and I really want you to come.” I replied, “Sure Quil.” Finally some plans! I couldn’t take being in the house for another boring weekend.

There were a few issues. One, finding something to wear and two, getting permission to even go. Finding something to wear was not that difficult for I had remember about the new dress that I bought for my best friend -Nia’s, party. Now asking my mom for permission was another issue in itself because depending on the work day, my mom can sometimes come home with quite the attitude. I had to remind myself that just because I was excited, it was almost too good to be true, so I probably shouldn’t get my hopes up just in case my mom tells me that I can not go.

My mom usually gets home at five o’clock. I hoped that her day at work was pleasurable because I wanted her in a good mood before I popped the big question. I didn’t feel like listening to another one of her lectures about “those boys” and “how to act when going out places.” She always comes home mad and takes the anger that she has amassed from work out on me, lecturing me about “teenage stuff.” I hope she just answers me a with a simple “yes” or “no” and just leave it at that.

I wondered what songs Aquil was going to perform. I love his voice and when he sings it is simply amazing. I remember when he invited me to his last show. It was a night to remember and I will never forget how he brought me up on stage and sang my favorite song to me.

Now that I think about, I really hadn’t heard from him in a couple months up until he texted me. Well at least I’ll get to see him soon.

That day, it seemed like it took forever for my mom to come home. It just felt like the day was trudging by and forgot that I needed my mom to get home. My mom got home around 6:15. I waited for her to get settled to see if she was in a pleasant mood or not. She hadn’t called me down for my lecture yet, so I guess she had a good day. When she sat down on the couch and started watching Jeopardy, I thought it was an opportune time to ask her. I decided to start slowly.

“Hey mom, how was your day?”

“It was actually good J... How about yours?”

“Mine was cool. Aquil invited me to his show this weekend. I know how you feel about  me going out, but mom…..can I go, please?”

“Yeah sure, I love Aquil and his family. You can go. So when and where is this show? How are you getting there? Who else is going to be there?”

“Aquil has to send me the rest of the info, but he did say that his mom would pick me up and drop me off.”

“Okay cool...just keep me updated.”

“Thanks mom.”

I really didn’t expect her to give in so willingly, but I guess it’s best not to question it. I walked up the stairs pleased that she had not attempted to give me yet another speech. I figured that I should text Aquil to inform him that I could go and also to get my mom the information she wanted. He texted me back a couple minutes later, and I relayed the message to my mom. My weekend is most definitely about to be eventful.

The next day came, and I slept in until about noon. I then rolled out of bed, showered, dressed, and walked to the salon to get my hair and nails done.

I walked 2 hours later looking “fleeky.” I should take a selfie because I look really cute right now.

A couple selfies later I walked home so that I could finish getting ready. Aquil asked if he could take me somewhere before the show. So I went back to the house and threw on something cute, and I left my dress hanging up so that it would be ready when I came back.

My phone rang, it was Aquil, I think he’s outside. I answered and he said, “Yo I’m outside come out so we can go.”

I almost tripped walking down the steps. Then I opened the door, and I saw Aquil.

“DAMN YO YOU GOT TALL!”

“Haha yeah I know”

“I haven’t seen you in forever”

“Yeah I know hahaha that’s why I wanted to see you before we went.”

This boy is like 6’3. He wasn’t that tall last time I saw him. I was super excited to see my best friend again.

He said, “We gotta take the trolley because my dad is using my car today because he had a meeting in New York.”

“It’s cool…don’t stress it.”

To be honest I didn’t really care I was just excited to be out of that house. We got on the 34 trolley at 61st & Baltimore, and then we got off at 48th & Baltimore. We walked into this small cafe for late lunch. Hours went by as we sat and caught up on life. Then Aquil’s mom called. He said that she was 15mins away and that we were about to head to the show. I didn’t notice how much time went by.

“Aquil I left my dress at the house.”

“Okay we can take you back to the house, but you have to hurry up and change.”

“Okay.”

His mom pulled up, we got in, and then we rushed to the house so that I could change. A few minutes later I ran out the house in my heels, dress, and I got back in the car.

“Yo you look amazing,” he said.

“Thanks Aquil”

I was kind of blushing, but not only because of what he said, but I really thought I looked cute. We had to drive all the way down Drexel campus to get to World Cafe Live. During the drive, we didn’t talk that much except for the few questions his mom asked me about school, life, work, the usual. For the most part, I looked out the window as the trees whisked past and people ran by in a blur. I kept thinking about the time I had first met Aquil during a summer program around four years ago, and silently laughing to myself because he had the biggest crush on me back then. At the time I was living in California and we never lost touch, but when I moved back to Philly things seemed to just fit into place.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted as I jumped back into reality.

“We’re here!” said Aquil’s mom.

I’ve never seen Quil move so fast in my life, he jumped out the car and ran backstage to prepare for his show. I knew then, that not only was he excited to perform, but that it was going to be one hell of a performance.

“Good luck tonight!” I yelled after him, but I doubt he even heard me.

His mom and I walked into World Cafe and as I looked around I noticed the large amount of people just mulling around, waiting for the show. I took a moment to take everything in, the scenery, people, colors, smells, etc; anything that would help me remember this very moment.

“I’ll be right back.” someone said, barely audible.

I turned around just in time to see Aquil’s mom heading backstage, mostly likely prepared to give him a quick pep talk and word of advice. Not used to being in this type of setting, I maneuvered myself so that I was close enough to the stage to be able to enjoy his performance, but even closer to the door so that I would not be bomb rushed on the way out. Just as I was about to drift back into my thoughts, the ground beneath my feet started to quiver and everyone around me became a silhouette. It was then that I looked up and noticed that the lights had been dimmed and the spotlight was on Aquil, standing center stage.

The show was about an hour long and once it ended, I went backstage to meet Aquil an congratulate him on his outstanding performance.

“Quil! You did an amazing job out there! Did you see the crowd?”

“Yea, I did, but the only person I was focused on was you.”

In that moment, I felt a rush through my body. I was highly unaware of my surroundings at the time and could only focus on the warmth of his hands as her grabbed me by my lower back and pulled me towards him. I didn’t know how to feel in that very moment because all I could focus on was how close in proximity we were. All the sounds around us were muffled and my vision slightly blurred, but what I knew for a fact wasn’t blurry was the image slowly coming towards me. He kissed me.

The ride home was filled with common conversation and awkward laughter. I knew I was not the only one feeling the weird tension. It could not be more excited to get dropped off at home. It wasn’t that I was unhappy about the kiss. I just did not know how to feel about it and wanted to go home and clear my mind. With what felt like an hour, within fifteen minutes, I was being dropped off at my house.

“Bye Mrs. Dantzler! Thank you so much for the ride!”

“No problem sweetie. I enjoyed your company.”

Aquil got out the car and walked me to my door. Even though the walk was short, we walked

in silence but deep down I knew that he would not just let me go inside without mentioning something about what had happened earlier that night.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yea. Perfectly fine. I just need some time to think”

“I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.”

“I know.” I replied. “Thank you for inviting me to your show. I had an amazing time.”

With that, I gave him a small kiss on the cheek and left him outside as I walked into my house.

As I closed the door behind me, I let go a huge sigh of relief. I great breath I felt like I had been holding in for the last hour. I knew from then, that the relationship between Aquil and I would be more or less than mutual, but nothing from that night on would be the same.

Some people think terrorist means a lot of bad different things. Most people think of this definition is a horrendous thing. Most people think the definition of a terrorist is an international person who isn’t from the United States Of America and that kills people and makes bombs for no reason. Most people have this definition wrong and or the wrong idea. Misjudgement is a big thing in the world now. People are misjudge muslims as terrorists or horrible people. It because the things they see in the world like September 11, when Islamist extremists hijacked a couple planes and crashed into the twin towers.  

A terrorist is a person who uses terrorism in the pursuit of political aims. This is the correct definition of a terrorist. I hate when people say the word terrorist and don’t even know what it means. Some people say the word as a joke and this isn’t no joking matter to play with the word terrorist. I hate the stereotypes against terrorist like some people say muslim people are terrorist or people who aren’t from the United States Of America aren’t, lastly men with long fully grown beard.

I was dreaming and heard all this noise and when I woke up it came to reality. All I heard people coming up and down the stairs and the bathroom water running. I tried to go back to sleep, but my mother came in my room and said “wake up it's time to wake up for our holiday Eid!” I finally woke up and squinted my eye because of the very sunny sun. I woke up smiling hard because I know today is my holiday and I will see all my family members I haven’t seen since last Eid. All that I could think about was the amount of money I would be making today. Last Eid I made about 50 dollars, and this Eid I want to see if I could make more.

My mom drove me and my siblings to the park so we can do our Eid prayer. My brother and I had a black throbe on which is like a long dress and people would call it. My mom and sister had a black cheetah print overgarment on. As we were walking to the the huge park, people in cars were stopping and look at us and the people on the trolley just stared at us like we weren’t human.

I thought in my mind if some people never seen muslims before or they just thought that something was wrong with us. I don’t know if what we was wearing or they thought something about us I wonder. We went and prayed at the park. After that I got up and got some money and seen my uncle. We had a long conversation. He was telling me how he was on his way to the Eid prayer and how some lady said something very disrespectful about him.  

He said “While I was walking to the masjid some white lady was talking to her daughter and overheard them talking about how he looks like a terrorist.” At this time, I was a young age and I really didn’t know what the word “terrorist” meant… He told me what it meant. Until the day I heard somebody called someone else a terrorist, I didn’t know how it felt to be called that. There was talks about how you could be muslim or a different skin color or just be different and be consider as a terrorist.

Misjudgement is a big thing in world right now and always will be. It used in a lot of different things. For example being muslim or a different skin color means you have to be a terrorist. No one should ever judge a book by its cover! Regardless anything no matter how they look.