Mariam
05-15-2006, 02:08 AM
Ok..That's first time I write a short literature text in English, so don't let me down any comment would be great.
Thanks. :rolleyes:
Here it goes..
Feeling that he was followed, he rushed to lock the door twice as he entered his dead gray room.
Dragging his spirtlees self, and pulling his weak trembling legs behind, he dropped his living corpus on the worm eaten rugged sofa.
His shocked horrified eyes overviewed the nacked paint-less walls and stopped to stare at the smal dirty window facing him.
It was dark outside though, it wasn't evening yet.
The monsterous roar of the thunder and the sound of the first drops of a summer's day rain brought him back from his dead dreaming.
There was a knock on the door, but his senses were to o charmed by the pure sparkling drops that scattered all over the smooth glass leaving as they run down splendorous shiny lines, and a yellow smile on his dry lips.
A harder knock broke the silence and his smile.
Just as the llightining stabbed the heart of the heavy darkness, the thrusting noise of the knocking nails on the locked wooden door stabbed deep into his racing heart.
Nailed to the sofa at the time that something cold and wet moisten the back of his neck, his skinny hand went over his forehead and traced every single feature of his pale face, and his bones chattered aloud as soon as his hot feverish fingers touched the cold sweat.
Motivated by a subconscious instinct he laid down on the sofa , gathering up his parted knees as close as possible to his cheast, and breathed wildely from his parted lips.
There was nothing that he could see for a thin misty layer coverd his eyeballs, while the mighty darkness engulfed every thing surrounding his fadding existence. Therefor, he could no longer here anything but a voice of a motionless face within a silent dream....
SO...what do you think??
Thanks. :rolleyes:
Here it goes..
Feeling that he was followed, he rushed to lock the door twice as he entered his dead gray room.
Dragging his spirtlees self, and pulling his weak trembling legs behind, he dropped his living corpus on the worm eaten rugged sofa.
His shocked horrified eyes overviewed the nacked paint-less walls and stopped to stare at the smal dirty window facing him.
It was dark outside though, it wasn't evening yet.
The monsterous roar of the thunder and the sound of the first drops of a summer's day rain brought him back from his dead dreaming.
There was a knock on the door, but his senses were to o charmed by the pure sparkling drops that scattered all over the smooth glass leaving as they run down splendorous shiny lines, and a yellow smile on his dry lips.
A harder knock broke the silence and his smile.
Just as the llightining stabbed the heart of the heavy darkness, the thrusting noise of the knocking nails on the locked wooden door stabbed deep into his racing heart.
Nailed to the sofa at the time that something cold and wet moisten the back of his neck, his skinny hand went over his forehead and traced every single feature of his pale face, and his bones chattered aloud as soon as his hot feverish fingers touched the cold sweat.
Motivated by a subconscious instinct he laid down on the sofa , gathering up his parted knees as close as possible to his cheast, and breathed wildely from his parted lips.
There was nothing that he could see for a thin misty layer coverd his eyeballs, while the mighty darkness engulfed every thing surrounding his fadding existence. Therefor, he could no longer here anything but a voice of a motionless face within a silent dream....
SO...what do you think??