Read “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” by Ambrose Bierce.

Question

Consider how the story could end differently, then write an alternate ending.
Write at least 2 pages of your new ending.

Begin your alternate ending with the last sentence of the original text - right before your new ending picks up - to transition from the original author's voice to your own.
2 pages, double spaced, correct MLA format
Creative ending that follows the natural progression of events from the story
Incorporate 3D writing - use dialogue, description, and details
Integrate ideas from the original passage
Proper spelling and conventions

Type the last line of the story you have chosen. “And as he held his loved ones close, a sense of hope ignited within him, reminding him that life, even amidst chaos, could flourish anew.”
In your own words, tell how the story ended. The shocking conclusion of the story tricks him to think he has escaped but is still being executed. It graciously twists with a disdain for time that he so hasn't been willing to bear off yet. The very cry of vulture sacrifices its carcass as along he wafts yet hugs the spare rail trappings tight-what an unprecedented dirty joke-one waiting participation within disillusionment, plain that he is actually still around, only about to flee within the final embers within the longer half of his existence. What a terrible, swaying standoff, cut from recklessness to burning-the wind will not bear for an open disclosure of folly and ruin to the infinite ranks of warfare.

Brainstorming-Alternate Ending
What is something you didn’t like about the original story? The only part of the original story that I found highly perturbing was the stark contrast between Farquhar's completely idyllic escape and the sudden resolution of his execution. Farquhar's experiences have this almost dreamlike quality, ending ultimately with a shocking punchline of his execution in reality. This presents a picture of despair at best, with practically no openings left for justice or calling hope into question. Though it makes a fairly deep commentary about the human psyche and war's imprint on it, the Flatness could be consistent with sadness in and of itself.
Explain what you will change in your version of this story. I would pivot from the story's main theme of despair and illusion into resilience and hope. This would underpin the whole idea of the will of man in his yearning for connection that would, thereby, allow the core theme to be more cheering than despairful. A rising emotional pitch could occupy the land, but the ending should celebrate life instead of being a tragic paradox. Even so, it will still remain tense and suspenseful and tempered with a closure that celebrates the protagonist's survival and reasserts the value of human relationships against adversity.
How is your ending different from the author’s? In a different version of the conclusion, instead of rendering the escape of Farquhar as a rather fantastical yet ill-fated experience just extending up to his dying, let us presume the escape to be successful and full of flesh and blood. As he plunges into the fast river from swinging on the bridge, the soldier evades the bullets and, more so, remains alive. As he swims away from the soldiers, he reflects upon his family and the life he dreads returning to, therefore, inspiring hope and furtherance in the readers.
Why would people rather read your ending than the author’s?
My alternate ending should find favor with a reading audience in that frame of despair that it gave in the first part of the book continues only to be a resilient and hopeful tale thereafter-statesmen, putting human spirit above, able to continue under whatever forms of hardship. The promise of life, love, and unwavering family solidarity should sound at the end rather higher than what it is given and sure to cast a rosy glow on such readers who like their tales of sagacity, despite hardship.
Explain how the characters are different at the end of your story vs. the author’s story The original story is truly profound; Farquhar is not only the would-be liberator of the Confederacy, but he, in his very hopefulness, has become tragic as it turns out that his escape is a mirage, promised in his dreams just before his demise. Illusion and inevitable doom were the protruded themes that represent the gruesome singularity of war and existence. Unlike Bierce, my alternate ending offers hope and perseverance in a more actual journey for readers than the embrace of reality through reflection on life as futile. By changing the spectrum of hopes to survival and connection, one gives a far more communing experience with deciding on the tension and thrill that passes with the unfolding plot. All through, this re-imagined ending is a reminder of the people-deterring value of human resilience, endowing it with alternatives strikingly refreshing for readers and uplifting.

Write in MLA FORMAT

Answer 1

Alternating Ending to "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge"

[Your Name]
[Instructor’s Name]
[Course Title]
[Date]

“And as he held his loved ones close, a sense of hope ignited within him, reminding him that life, even amidst chaos, could flourish anew.”

Peyton Farquhar's heart raced with exhilaration as he plunged into the cool waters below Owl Creek Bridge. The cacophony of bullets whizzing past him blended with the rushing river's sound, a symphony of survival he had never known. As he navigated the turbulent current, a quick glance over his shoulder revealed no soldiers pursuing him. The mist rising from the water cloaked him, lending him the cover he desperately needed.

Emerging from the depths, he gasped, filling his lungs with the fresh air of freedom. His senses sharpened; the vibrant greens of the trees lining the riverbank seemed to glow in the dappled sunlight, and the distant sounds of nature enveloped him. He had survived!

“God be thanked! I’m still alive!” he exclaimed, surprisingly loud amidst the tranquil surrounding. He couldn't help but laugh, the sound bursting forth like a spell broken. For a moment, he floated in disbelief, allowing gratitude, and then determination, to wash over him.

He swam with a ferocious energy, driven by the thought of his wife and children, a vision that brought clarity to his chaotic escape. He could almost feel the warmth of their embraces, the laughter ringing in their home, and he knew he would fight against every fear inside him to get back.

“Stay focused, Peyton,” he murmured to himself, each stroke propelling him closer to shore. His body ached from fatigue, but his will remained unbroken. He could almost hear the echoes of their voices, guiding him through the treacherous waters. Just a bit further, he thought, the familiar urgency animating each of his limbs.

At last, he neared the riverbank. With one determined motion, he propelled himself onto the muddy earth, scrabbling onto the familiar soil. The breathless interplay of exhaustion and relief coursed through him. Now was the time for discretion; he had to make sure that the soldiers were truly gone before making his way home.

He crawled through the underbrush, the scent of damp earth and wildflowers intoxicated him. As he ventured deeper into the woods, he could hear birds singing, their melodies buoyant with life. The reality that he had escaped death began to sink in fully; he was free, yet the lingering fear of recapture gnawed at him like a vulture circling its prey.

Suddenly, a soft rustle made him pause. He pressed himself into the brambles, straining to see. This change in environment reminded him that he was not yet safe. But as he peered through the leaves, he felt the tension within him shift—the sight of a woman standing just within view made his heart leap.

“Peyton!” she called out, her voice tremulous but unmistakable. The shock of recognition coursed through him. It was his wife, and she was alive!

“Hannah!” He sprang to his feet, the fatigue melting away. Their eyes met, and the world around them faded. He stumbled forward through the foliage, finally embracing her as tears spilled down their cheeks.

“Thank God you’re alive!” she gasped, pressing her head against his chest. “I was so afraid I’d lost you forever.”

Forever. The word echoed in his mind like a sacred promise. “I thought I would never see you again. I heard the gunfire…I came so close to…” His voice faltered, but the fiery resolve inside him remained. “But I’m here, and I wasn’t going to let them take me from you.”

As an eerie stillness swept over the forest, Farquhar took a step back, looking into her eyes. “I have to escape. They might still be hunting for me.”

“Shh...it’s okay. We’ll hide. We can find a way. We’ll go to my sister’s place in the mountains! They won’t find us there.” Hannah’s determination fueled a warmth in him that melted away the chill of near-misses and the encroaching threat.

With renewed courage, he nodded, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist. Together, they darted into the woods, relying on their combined knowledge of the terrain, weaving through trees and brush, their bond pulling them closer.

As they ran, they spoke of dreams—of a future beyond war, one filled with laughter and children. They envisioned evenings by the fire, long walks through the fields, hands entwined beneath the stars. Each word made him lighter until the burdens of war seemed like a distant nightmare.

Days passed as they navigated the hollows and canopy of the hidden forest until, finally, they reached the cabin Hannah claimed her sister owned. They had escaped the war, if only for a moment, and were safe within the walls of that tiny haven.

The journey ahead was uncertain, but in their hearts, hope blossomed anew. Together, they could face whatever lay ahead, secure in the knowledge that love could conquer even the most harrowing struggles. They stood hand in hand, gazing out at the vast wilderness stretching ahead, affirming to one another the indomitable spirit that defined their bond.

“Whatever comes next,” Farquhar said, “as long as we are together, I know we can withstand it all.”

Hannah smiled, a radiant warmth that reminded him of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. And as they stepped into the future, the echoes of war faded behind them, replaced by the harmonious song of life waiting to be lived.