Here we come to a new appointment. After the small brackets made with the previous speaker, I continue to offer one of my short stories. It is "a journey home," if I am made around September / October 2008. It 's still one of the first that I made, but I prefer to have more than the previous! Good reading so ^ ^
The car pulled up slowly, raising quite a fuss in the driveway gravel. When he opened the door he saw the landscape so much that was dear to him, that landscape had not seen for three years now. Downloaded a small suitcase, it walked along the avenue of poplars: the pace was slow, as if to enjoy every single moment of his return home. That place, so full of memories, so evocative was left largely intact, and the time had not tarnished in any way. The three years spent in the United States seemed like a distant memory, a dream, a tiny fragment of existence, yet it was just a few hours before it got off the plane.
Suddenly a gentle breeze began to stroke his face, was delicate and refreshing. That feeling brought to mind the pleasant memories of childhood, as when a child, during the hot summer afternoons, he used lie in the shadow of those huge trees and lulled by the wind but also by the imagination.
step, so solemn and seemingly unstoppable, but suffered an abrupt end: before his eyes stood out the carcass of a charred tree. It was not any tree, no. That was the tree on which they shook their promise. Yeah, well recognized, the recordings were still partly visible: like a bolt from the blue, the memories are rekindled in him. Suddenly, the figures of two children playing, two kids who talk about the first love of two men who gather in the shade of a tree secular promise.
But he had no time for the memories, he continued his walk a few seconds later, again a solemn again unstoppable, the expression on his face was changed, however, had become more serious, more enraged.
The villa can already see the end of the interminable avenue, so massive, so big, but apparently so empty and lifeless. Here it is, the home of his childhood, his adolescence, his entire life. The chatter of two women, the screams of children playing ... No, it was not so empty, life is still lived in it. Suddenly, however, observed that the top window on the top floor of the villa was closed. A tear fell on his face, the expression was changed again, now nostalgic but serene at the same time. That's why he was gone: he was gone, taken away in the off years, when the best time of his life. The promise sealed in the shadow of that tree, that now was nothing but a lifeless trunk, but had been kept, and had nothing to regret ...
A journey home
The car pulled up slowly, raising quite a fuss in the driveway gravel. When he opened the door he saw the landscape so much that was dear to him, that landscape had not seen for three years now. Downloaded a small suitcase, it walked along the avenue of poplars: the pace was slow, as if to enjoy every single moment of his return home. That place, so full of memories, so evocative was left largely intact, and the time had not tarnished in any way. The three years spent in the United States seemed like a distant memory, a dream, a tiny fragment of existence, yet it was just a few hours before it got off the plane.
Suddenly a gentle breeze began to stroke his face, was delicate and refreshing. That feeling brought to mind the pleasant memories of childhood, as when a child, during the hot summer afternoons, he used lie in the shadow of those huge trees and lulled by the wind but also by the imagination.
step, so solemn and seemingly unstoppable, but suffered an abrupt end: before his eyes stood out the carcass of a charred tree. It was not any tree, no. That was the tree on which they shook their promise. Yeah, well recognized, the recordings were still partly visible: like a bolt from the blue, the memories are rekindled in him. Suddenly, the figures of two children playing, two kids who talk about the first love of two men who gather in the shade of a tree secular promise.
But he had no time for the memories, he continued his walk a few seconds later, again a solemn again unstoppable, the expression on his face was changed, however, had become more serious, more enraged.
The villa can already see the end of the interminable avenue, so massive, so big, but apparently so empty and lifeless. Here it is, the home of his childhood, his adolescence, his entire life. The chatter of two women, the screams of children playing ... No, it was not so empty, life is still lived in it. Suddenly, however, observed that the top window on the top floor of the villa was closed. A tear fell on his face, the expression was changed again, now nostalgic but serene at the same time. That's why he was gone: he was gone, taken away in the off years, when the best time of his life. The promise sealed in the shadow of that tree, that now was nothing but a lifeless trunk, but had been kept, and had nothing to regret ...
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