Jeskes Little Poems and Proses.
Verfasst: Mo 21. Sep 2009, 21:32
Tut mir leid dass ich jetzt auch den trend folge; aber.. ich schreibe manchmal auch kurzgeschichten.
Zwar nicht so gut wie die von Kathrin undso O.o und auf englisch
aber...
x33
Ich dachte, vllt öffne ich mir auch nen thread.
Pfüh war das schwierig mir das zu entscheiden O.o
Nja, die sind also (fast) alle auf englisch
Die erste geschichte steht in meinem blog... ich stelle sie trotzdem mal hierhin
Aufbauender kritik ist willkommen
Ach und... ich find's lustig mal bilder zu den teksten zu tun, also.. wundert euch nicht
Mere Winters Air
Cold, desastrous cold rips through my chest, pressing in on my lungs, slices through my fingers, numbing my hands. My thoughts freeze but I have to focus on keeping total equilibrium to refrain from falling. To avoid collapsing onto the stoney pond a few strides ahead.
The little voice whispers softly: "Just keep on, you're almost there.. Move ahead, just a few kilometers. A few.." though the words seem to echoe loudly before fading into dead thoughts and memories again.
The scenery is almost fully enveloped by fog and mist, hiding the path that used to be so trustworthy to me. Slowly inhaling the odorless smell of morning dew, I wonder how the landscape could turn so unfamiliar in just a couple of hours. The silence frightens me slightly. "Just move on, move on" the voice repeats, with an urgeing undertone. Maybe he could sense the danger ahead of me.
A second wave of cold tears through my body, filling my lungs with fog and knife sharp air. Mucus starts ascending slowly through my pipes, making breathing barely possible... Just a few thousant metres, just a few...
Dizzy.
I step from my bike and kneel down. The voice keeps repeating the phrase, how could I possibly let my phisical health take over my will? Coughing slightly, I get up to move on once more, wondering how one could drown so easily in mere winters air.
Zwar nicht so gut wie die von Kathrin undso O.o und auf englisch
aber...
x33
Ich dachte, vllt öffne ich mir auch nen thread.
Pfüh war das schwierig mir das zu entscheiden O.o
Nja, die sind also (fast) alle auf englisch
Die erste geschichte steht in meinem blog... ich stelle sie trotzdem mal hierhin
Aufbauender kritik ist willkommen
Ach und... ich find's lustig mal bilder zu den teksten zu tun, also.. wundert euch nicht
Mere Winters Air
Cold, desastrous cold rips through my chest, pressing in on my lungs, slices through my fingers, numbing my hands. My thoughts freeze but I have to focus on keeping total equilibrium to refrain from falling. To avoid collapsing onto the stoney pond a few strides ahead.
The little voice whispers softly: "Just keep on, you're almost there.. Move ahead, just a few kilometers. A few.." though the words seem to echoe loudly before fading into dead thoughts and memories again.
The scenery is almost fully enveloped by fog and mist, hiding the path that used to be so trustworthy to me. Slowly inhaling the odorless smell of morning dew, I wonder how the landscape could turn so unfamiliar in just a couple of hours. The silence frightens me slightly. "Just move on, move on" the voice repeats, with an urgeing undertone. Maybe he could sense the danger ahead of me.
A second wave of cold tears through my body, filling my lungs with fog and knife sharp air. Mucus starts ascending slowly through my pipes, making breathing barely possible... Just a few thousant metres, just a few...
Dizzy.
I step from my bike and kneel down. The voice keeps repeating the phrase, how could I possibly let my phisical health take over my will? Coughing slightly, I get up to move on once more, wondering how one could drown so easily in mere winters air.