April
Monday 24 November 2008 photo 1/1
|
Här kommer min Engelska novell...
The Meeting
I walk down the street and the sun dazzle me. The shopping bags from the supermarket force me to stay and rest my arms.
Te sun gets cover by clouds and it grows slightly darker. It might start rain to night?
I hope I find the time to take in the clothes from the laundry string.
I picked up the shopping bags and countine to walk along the street. Outside the new opening café a sweet little girl sit on a bench.
I slow down in order to try tp see who the girl is. It is somebody I know?
I can't see her face bacause she's hiding the face in the lap. She wears a light gray dress. It looks like the dress is well used. i guess that dress one day where white and whole but don´t now. She has blone hair. The hair still hung down to the bench an it looked like it needed to be brushed. Maybe she hasn't a shower for a several days. i want to brush her hair. I want to take her home to me and give her a hot shower. I want to take her in my arms and hug her and give her the love she need. But I could't.
Even if I don't saw her face I felt in me that she is sad. Maybe she cries?
Sould I walk up tp her? Whatever I decide to do I just can't stand here lika a big idiot and stare at her like she was an ailien or something. The curiosity and the insecurity whrl around in my body and I really don't know what I shall do.
Suddenly I see a big black bus slowly roll up in front of the bench where the forgotten girl sits. I can't discern the face on the driver but i see that it is a man. I think he is trying to hide himself from the world around him. It writhes in my stomach and I fell taht time to help the girl sooon will be over. I have only one chance to help her.
The car stands in front of the girl and I start to walk to the bench. I increase the pace and I feel how the pulse indreases faster and faster.
But i´'s too late. I did not help the girl. She is gone and the car goes far away. The treatful car with the man who's face I couldn't dicern, have taken the poor little innocent girl.
The sun in shining on the snoe. I see how the glitter when I sit here in the kitchen and look out the window and I still think about the girl i met but not. The strange fellin I have in my hjeart tellin me that I knew who she was and I know that she need help. Maybe she needed my help? I knew that she needs love and security as all other children.'
When I sit here and stare out the window, I suddenly see the post car. I run out with only my bathrobe, out to the mailbox to get the morning newspaper. Even tough the sun shines it's cold outside. i run back into the house and the heat. Well back in the itchen, when I sit at the table I open the newspaper and start to read the firt heading I see: An eleven years old girl hung herself when she where alone in her new fosterhome. It was a pitcure on the girl, exactly the girl I had seen a month ago. The girl with the long blonde hair and the white dress had taken the life of herself. Why? After I have read this heading and seen the pitcure of the girl I started to cry. I saw the tears fall down on the newspaper. The tears drop on the pitcure on the girl. It's looks like the girl was crying...
The Meeting
Te sun gets cover by clouds and it grows slightly darker. It might start rain to night?
I hope I find the time to take in the clothes from the laundry string.
I picked up the shopping bags and countine to walk along the street. Outside the new opening café a sweet little girl sit on a bench.
I slow down in order to try tp see who the girl is. It is somebody I know?
I can't see her face bacause she's hiding the face in the lap. She wears a light gray dress. It looks like the dress is well used. i guess that dress one day where white and whole but don´t now. She has blone hair. The hair still hung down to the bench an it looked like it needed to be brushed. Maybe she hasn't a shower for a several days. i want to brush her hair. I want to take her home to me and give her a hot shower. I want to take her in my arms and hug her and give her the love she need. But I could't.
Even if I don't saw her face I felt in me that she is sad. Maybe she cries?
Sould I walk up tp her? Whatever I decide to do I just can't stand here lika a big idiot and stare at her like she was an ailien or something. The curiosity and the insecurity whrl around in my body and I really don't know what I shall do.
Suddenly I see a big black bus slowly roll up in front of the bench where the forgotten girl sits. I can't discern the face on the driver but i see that it is a man. I think he is trying to hide himself from the world around him. It writhes in my stomach and I fell taht time to help the girl sooon will be over. I have only one chance to help her.
The car stands in front of the girl and I start to walk to the bench. I increase the pace and I feel how the pulse indreases faster and faster.
But i´'s too late. I did not help the girl. She is gone and the car goes far away. The treatful car with the man who's face I couldn't dicern, have taken the poor little innocent girl.
The sun in shining on the snoe. I see how the glitter when I sit here in the kitchen and look out the window and I still think about the girl i met but not. The strange fellin I have in my hjeart tellin me that I knew who she was and I know that she need help. Maybe she needed my help? I knew that she needs love and security as all other children.'
When I sit here and stare out the window, I suddenly see the post car. I run out with only my bathrobe, out to the mailbox to get the morning newspaper. Even tough the sun shines it's cold outside. i run back into the house and the heat. Well back in the itchen, when I sit at the table I open the newspaper and start to read the firt heading I see: An eleven years old girl hung herself when she where alone in her new fosterhome. It was a pitcure on the girl, exactly the girl I had seen a month ago. The girl with the long blonde hair and the white dress had taken the life of herself. Why? After I have read this heading and seen the pitcure of the girl I started to cry. I saw the tears fall down on the newspaper. The tears drop on the pitcure on the girl. It's looks like the girl was crying...
Comment the photo
1 comments on this photo
Directlink:
http://dayviews.com/shineeverybody/299409428/
Visa toppen
Show footer