Reading Kate Chopin's 'The Story of an Hour' landed me on an erratic roller-coaster ride. Chopin did, however, warn me in her first sentence that because of Mrs. Mallards heart trouble, I was in for a herky-jerky ride through her short story.
Then, even more abrubtly, this spasmodic roller-coaster ride goes over the top and dives down to a screeching halt as Mrs Mallard sees her very- much-alive husband at the front door, no less, letting himself back into her life. His latch key piercing her heart, but get this, not ending her briefly-celebrated freedom. She outwitted him in the end and reversed who left who.