"At Le Mars, Iowa, the probated will of T. M. Zink, deceased attorney, revealed:1) His $100,000 estate is to be placed in trust for 75 years; 2) In A. D. 2005 the accumulated principal is to be used to establish, equip and maintain a library on whose shelves will be no woman author, on whose catalogs will be no woman's name, over whose portal will blaze: "No Women Admitted"; 3) To his daughter went $5; 4) To his widow not 1¢."
Only a little scribble by Felix Feneon could go with this. Although it may be more dark.
From Novels in Three Lines
Schied, of Dunkirk, fired three times at his wife. Since he missed every shot, he decided to aim at his mother-in-law, and connected.
Since Delorce left her, Cecile Ward had refused to take him back unless he married her. Finding this stipulation unacceptable, he stabbed her.
In Oyonneax, Mlle. Cottet, eighteen, threw acid in the face of M. Besnard, twenty-five. Love, obviously.
"Where the Sidewalk Ends" There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.By Shel Silverstein