Post by Kivuli Mwanga on Jan 14, 2011 14:11:28 GMT 2
Nu har jeg tænkt længe på at oprette denne tråd =D Jeg har tænkt på at tilføje nogle af mine finurlige skrevne guldkorn her ind =D De er for det meste taget ud af mine stile, da det er der hvor jeg ofte kan komme til at lave det =D Der vil være en blanding af både engelsk og dansk, og der vil dukke nogle historier op løbende.
Once upon a time in the In-between there was life, and now the life rarely sprouts. I often visit those borders of life, when my spare time allows it. This time it was in my summer holidays, when I scarcely had time to spend in the dead oasis in the midst of the living world, where both mongrels and kings live in close proximity to each other, but they never notice the existence of each other, while I hardly walked amongst them, because of my temporally presence in the In-between.
While I passed through the ghost looking shapes from the real world, I suddenly approached a grand oak of the finest white marble. This marvellous tree had instead of leaves, that probably would be as sparkling white as the tree itself, thousands and thousands of pigeons, with a red ribbon tied around their left leg. The odd thing was, that none of the pigeons moved an inch. They stood still as they were mere statues.
As I advanced towards the tree, a sudden breeze appeared, and blew my hair into my face, but it did not disturb my vision, but I felt a weak pulsating of life all around me. I touched the cold trunk of the oak. It felt like hoarfrost, sticking to the glass in a winter morning, but I felt something else. A weak throb, but only so hard that I just could feel. I sent the pigeons a short glance. Something disturbed me. I could not say what it was, but there was a sort of provocation on my retinal.
After a load of minutes, I finally saw the thing that was missing, or rather had arrived. The ribbons were swaying in the fresh breeze, that I felt just before. They almost did not move at all, but it was powerful enough to provoke me. I was flabbergasted. I seldom felt a breeze in the In-Between, but now it was like a furious storm was arriving. The sky that usually was grey and dead, seemed now black and filled with anger. The air current was starting to grow in strength, and the dried out meadows, where dancing wildly in the harassing wind.
I turned my back to the tree, to try to see the offspring of this sudden storm. I heard a silent cracking. I did not notice it, before a loud noise, that almost sounded as an explosion, made me tremble the leaves of an ash.
Slowly I turned again towards the magnificent white oak. A large crack from bottom to top, was overtly discernible, on the surface of the marble. The ground started trembling, thunderclaps roared in the sky, the hurricane tore in my clothes and the blood red ribbons.
The marble was cracking all over the tree, but not only the tree, but the pigeons and the ground as well. I stumbled a few steps away from the destruction of the tree, but a large crack opened in the ground, like the mouth of a fiend, underneath me feet, and cowered me with a complete darkness.
When I woke up again, it was soft as the down feathers of a goose, and it smelled fresh and new. I opened my eyes. It was amazed. The once white and dead oak was now green and filled with leaves, the meadows were green and fresh, and the sky was blue and filled with thousands and thousands of pigeons, but they did not have the red ribbon around their left leg, but they had a green thread around their right wing.
Everything seemed happy. Now the In-Between was green once again, instead of the few stunted straws, that grew up between the dry crust of the earth.
A short account of my summer holidays in the In-between
Once upon a time in the In-between there was life, and now the life rarely sprouts. I often visit those borders of life, when my spare time allows it. This time it was in my summer holidays, when I scarcely had time to spend in the dead oasis in the midst of the living world, where both mongrels and kings live in close proximity to each other, but they never notice the existence of each other, while I hardly walked amongst them, because of my temporally presence in the In-between.
While I passed through the ghost looking shapes from the real world, I suddenly approached a grand oak of the finest white marble. This marvellous tree had instead of leaves, that probably would be as sparkling white as the tree itself, thousands and thousands of pigeons, with a red ribbon tied around their left leg. The odd thing was, that none of the pigeons moved an inch. They stood still as they were mere statues.
As I advanced towards the tree, a sudden breeze appeared, and blew my hair into my face, but it did not disturb my vision, but I felt a weak pulsating of life all around me. I touched the cold trunk of the oak. It felt like hoarfrost, sticking to the glass in a winter morning, but I felt something else. A weak throb, but only so hard that I just could feel. I sent the pigeons a short glance. Something disturbed me. I could not say what it was, but there was a sort of provocation on my retinal.
After a load of minutes, I finally saw the thing that was missing, or rather had arrived. The ribbons were swaying in the fresh breeze, that I felt just before. They almost did not move at all, but it was powerful enough to provoke me. I was flabbergasted. I seldom felt a breeze in the In-Between, but now it was like a furious storm was arriving. The sky that usually was grey and dead, seemed now black and filled with anger. The air current was starting to grow in strength, and the dried out meadows, where dancing wildly in the harassing wind.
I turned my back to the tree, to try to see the offspring of this sudden storm. I heard a silent cracking. I did not notice it, before a loud noise, that almost sounded as an explosion, made me tremble the leaves of an ash.
Slowly I turned again towards the magnificent white oak. A large crack from bottom to top, was overtly discernible, on the surface of the marble. The ground started trembling, thunderclaps roared in the sky, the hurricane tore in my clothes and the blood red ribbons.
The marble was cracking all over the tree, but not only the tree, but the pigeons and the ground as well. I stumbled a few steps away from the destruction of the tree, but a large crack opened in the ground, like the mouth of a fiend, underneath me feet, and cowered me with a complete darkness.
When I woke up again, it was soft as the down feathers of a goose, and it smelled fresh and new. I opened my eyes. It was amazed. The once white and dead oak was now green and filled with leaves, the meadows were green and fresh, and the sky was blue and filled with thousands and thousands of pigeons, but they did not have the red ribbon around their left leg, but they had a green thread around their right wing.
Everything seemed happy. Now the In-Between was green once again, instead of the few stunted straws, that grew up between the dry crust of the earth.
