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Rain
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Rain |
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KlausWachowski New Member
since 2003-05-19
Posts 1 |
It’s raining The old man rises , the skin grey by damp coldness. And toothache attracts attention again. There is a rustle, and the rat already disappeared. Since months his knife doesn’t strike any longer. When he steps out of the hut, a puddle at the roof of leaves empties itself. He stumbles an steps into a thorn. Damned! They don’t need him any more. In former days they didn’t either. But someone did like him, someone couldn’t stand him. Today they stand the prattle of an old chatterer. He is memory of better times, hopes and expectations and also disappointment of expectations. A memory with toothache and depressions. A face of lamentation, tramp with the plastic cup. He doesn’t believe that nonsense of gods for souls of masters and slaves. He is just grateful to this everything , that he was allowed to be with and in. Maybe it will last for a long time, but his days are gone. Somewhere outside the tiger is waiting or death in a rotten fruit. Then hopefully it may come quickly, and hopefully there will be some more days. Laughter from the brook side. He hits a snake luckily, proudly, goes further up. He finds a raspberry, hides and enjoys the taste of his childhood’s memory and of his children’s childhood. Ah! The pain! No way: they have to pull out that tooth. He is shivering. But the air gets warmer. The leaves´ green, the blue of the sky, the smell of flowers and carrion, the voices: what could I be without that? I want to hear it forever and ever, this surfing of the sea, up and down. They stand him, laugh, sometimes they tease him. But yet he is affiliatated to them, even though he doesn’t bring something with him, even though he can’t give a hand, being in the way. Two steps more and he is up the top. The birds of paradise floating in the blue. He lays down, closes his eyes, still seeing the birds, like at that day, when the blue curtain sank into the world in front of his right eye. He eats the rest of the meet, avoids biting. Sucks and bolts. Surely no inviting sight, but -unfortunately- no one is obliged to kiss me, he thinks. The wind changes and through the leaves he recognizes the grey strip in the distance. The sea, this puzzling birth and dying. He lays down. The lizard flees. The hand hollow over the ear he hears it. If someone would see him now!- But he already watches out well. Fair well, my I, my You. Klaus Wachowski 17.5.03 |
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| © Copyright 2003 KlausWachowski - All Rights Reserved | |||
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quatro Member
since 2003-04-29
Posts 392Galveston, Texas |
This was very nice. I can imagine myself being the person in your story and being stranded just as he. Thanks for sharing. quatro |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Welcome to Passions! Please, check your E-mail for a Special Greeting! Karilea - if I whisper, will you listen? |
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Marilyn Member Elite
since 1999-09-26
Posts 2621Ontario, Canada |
This was an interesting read. Confusing at times. Welcome to Passions. Marilyn. |
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