beroq
04-02-2009, 10:50 AM
Hi, everyone! This is the first two pages of the novella, named The Angry Man's Ride, I wrote two years ago. After you have read the passage, I would be appreciated if you expressed your opinion on it, which would be of great help for me to make it a more readable piece of work.
Thanks!
***
The Angry Man’s Ride
Chapter One
I
1930’s were hard years. Wars had been everywhere in the country throughout the previous decade, coming one after another, killing and maiming young men, destroying the already wretched infrastructure and impeding the economic progress and prosperity. Those were times of uncertainty and hopelessness.
Salim was one of those lucky men whom the craziness of war barely touched, then being a teenager. When the war was finally over, Salim had just had the chance to feel and cope with the agonizing experience of stepping into maturity from adolescence. War had cost him a family that had to migrate to this country from another aggression and occupation in another place of the world in 1870’s. Then he sat down and thought seriously if he had the ill omened power of attraction which misfortune kept following like a poodle dog.
He was lonely and young, unable to establish any real, meaningful connection to the land that he dwelt. But he knew he had to do something worthy of remembering in his oldness. He was not willing to concede his loneliness. So, he needed to find something that he could do in utmost solitude and that lasted long enough to make him an old man with a complete peace of mind.
And now, looking triumphantly down at the fertile lands stretching for miles before his eyes, young Salim was promising himself not to share the paradise he had just found with anyone else. He had worked round the clock for eight long aching years in the coal mines and dreamt about the very land now lying under his feet. Then it was 1942 and Salim was thirty years of age.
Salim had one thing in his mind when he put his whole savings into his pocket: To find the land of his dreams. No one could ever know how long he traveled for this and how the fire in him grew fiercer with every passing day and with every failure. Along the journey, he had examined the lands and talked to the villagers and shepherds living in the nearby towns. He was not a captious man in most circumstances but when the matter was the land he was planning to buy, you could not find a more sensitive, not-so-easygoing man than him. For he had dreamt of this moment while he was caving in through the stuffy passages and working in two shifts and keeping little time to enjoy himself. He was then convinced that land could not be deserved without sacrifice. He knew he had to be wise and meticulous in buying a good land in a good place. And nothing could be a bigger and heavier price than the one he had already paid working in the coal mines
While he was looking from the hilltop at the river absorbing and diffusing the lights of the midday sun, at the watery bachelor’s buttons shooting up from both sides of the river, at the steep pass between two high mountains at the other end of the valley and at the misty silhouette of the pine trees getting denser about ten miles away, Salim was now sure that the eight-year long hard work and weeks of search for a good land were not for nothing. So smooth and green was the valley lying to his feet that, in a split second, his crazy imagination had built up a house with three rooms and decided on the places where he would keep and train the horses.
Bowing his head and gazing at his own shadow that cast vaguely on the grass, for the first time, Salim noticed that his unchained imagination was frightening him. If he wasted a little more time on this hilltop standing still, he would be unable to differentiate between reality and illusion and his body would not stand this pressure and finally collapse.
He took a deep breath and smelling the odor of the fresh pasture crushing under his soles, climbed down the hill. The river was now flowing about fifty yards away from him. When Salim reached at the waterside, first thing that grabbed his attention were the footprints that some foxes and red deers left on the red soil. Then he bent down, took off his shoes and rolled up his cuffs. The water was warm, reaching up to his ankles in the shallow places. Salim went a little further in the stream. He liked the gentle touches of the water. Now he could feel the stones, round and slippery, blanketing the riverbed, under his bare feet.
He remained in the stream for fifteen minutes and got out of the water to lie down on the soft ground. He had taken the road to this place all alone and managed not to concede his solitude until now. He had kept going throughout those years as a man only resolved to realize his ambitions. Now he knew he had come to the end of that particular phase in his life and had to draw a new line for himself. He was ready to wait and just meet what had to come when it came.
Salim spent the night on the riverside, listening to the symphony of the owls and flying bugs. When a fox family came on the riverside, he was watching the stars, his arms clamped together under his head. The mother fox listened to the night while her two cubs were drinking from the river but she did not notice him. The cubs were only as big as a grown-up cat. Salim was not able to discern the color of their fur in the darkness. But he loved them.
With the first lights of the morning, he got up and walked along the river to get rid of the torpidness the night left in him. He was feeling hungry. He returned to the place where he slept and opened the bag where he kept his provisions. After a simple breakfast, he picked up his jacket, folded it and tucked it under his arm. When he started climbing up the hill he had descended yesterday afternoon, the birds were preparing their nestlings for their first flight.
Salim thumbed a truck on the highway and did not have to walk all the way to the town. The driver was a talkative man and had lots of information about the region. Salim learned that the valley and its surroundings were thought to contain some precious minerals but still undervalued. So it would be a good investment to buy some land these days. Salim ignored what he heard, thinking any likelihood of mining in the valley was a distant prospect. He did not want anything to disturb the tranquility of the valley, a part of which he was about to purchase.
He spent the night in a cheap hotel in the downtown. The next day he shaved in front of the mirror, combed his hair, and put on the jacket he never wore before and walked out of the room. When he came back to his hotel in the evening to collect his bag, he was a rich man owning a 100-acre land.
Thanks!
***
The Angry Man’s Ride
Chapter One
I
1930’s were hard years. Wars had been everywhere in the country throughout the previous decade, coming one after another, killing and maiming young men, destroying the already wretched infrastructure and impeding the economic progress and prosperity. Those were times of uncertainty and hopelessness.
Salim was one of those lucky men whom the craziness of war barely touched, then being a teenager. When the war was finally over, Salim had just had the chance to feel and cope with the agonizing experience of stepping into maturity from adolescence. War had cost him a family that had to migrate to this country from another aggression and occupation in another place of the world in 1870’s. Then he sat down and thought seriously if he had the ill omened power of attraction which misfortune kept following like a poodle dog.
He was lonely and young, unable to establish any real, meaningful connection to the land that he dwelt. But he knew he had to do something worthy of remembering in his oldness. He was not willing to concede his loneliness. So, he needed to find something that he could do in utmost solitude and that lasted long enough to make him an old man with a complete peace of mind.
And now, looking triumphantly down at the fertile lands stretching for miles before his eyes, young Salim was promising himself not to share the paradise he had just found with anyone else. He had worked round the clock for eight long aching years in the coal mines and dreamt about the very land now lying under his feet. Then it was 1942 and Salim was thirty years of age.
Salim had one thing in his mind when he put his whole savings into his pocket: To find the land of his dreams. No one could ever know how long he traveled for this and how the fire in him grew fiercer with every passing day and with every failure. Along the journey, he had examined the lands and talked to the villagers and shepherds living in the nearby towns. He was not a captious man in most circumstances but when the matter was the land he was planning to buy, you could not find a more sensitive, not-so-easygoing man than him. For he had dreamt of this moment while he was caving in through the stuffy passages and working in two shifts and keeping little time to enjoy himself. He was then convinced that land could not be deserved without sacrifice. He knew he had to be wise and meticulous in buying a good land in a good place. And nothing could be a bigger and heavier price than the one he had already paid working in the coal mines
While he was looking from the hilltop at the river absorbing and diffusing the lights of the midday sun, at the watery bachelor’s buttons shooting up from both sides of the river, at the steep pass between two high mountains at the other end of the valley and at the misty silhouette of the pine trees getting denser about ten miles away, Salim was now sure that the eight-year long hard work and weeks of search for a good land were not for nothing. So smooth and green was the valley lying to his feet that, in a split second, his crazy imagination had built up a house with three rooms and decided on the places where he would keep and train the horses.
Bowing his head and gazing at his own shadow that cast vaguely on the grass, for the first time, Salim noticed that his unchained imagination was frightening him. If he wasted a little more time on this hilltop standing still, he would be unable to differentiate between reality and illusion and his body would not stand this pressure and finally collapse.
He took a deep breath and smelling the odor of the fresh pasture crushing under his soles, climbed down the hill. The river was now flowing about fifty yards away from him. When Salim reached at the waterside, first thing that grabbed his attention were the footprints that some foxes and red deers left on the red soil. Then he bent down, took off his shoes and rolled up his cuffs. The water was warm, reaching up to his ankles in the shallow places. Salim went a little further in the stream. He liked the gentle touches of the water. Now he could feel the stones, round and slippery, blanketing the riverbed, under his bare feet.
He remained in the stream for fifteen minutes and got out of the water to lie down on the soft ground. He had taken the road to this place all alone and managed not to concede his solitude until now. He had kept going throughout those years as a man only resolved to realize his ambitions. Now he knew he had come to the end of that particular phase in his life and had to draw a new line for himself. He was ready to wait and just meet what had to come when it came.
Salim spent the night on the riverside, listening to the symphony of the owls and flying bugs. When a fox family came on the riverside, he was watching the stars, his arms clamped together under his head. The mother fox listened to the night while her two cubs were drinking from the river but she did not notice him. The cubs were only as big as a grown-up cat. Salim was not able to discern the color of their fur in the darkness. But he loved them.
With the first lights of the morning, he got up and walked along the river to get rid of the torpidness the night left in him. He was feeling hungry. He returned to the place where he slept and opened the bag where he kept his provisions. After a simple breakfast, he picked up his jacket, folded it and tucked it under his arm. When he started climbing up the hill he had descended yesterday afternoon, the birds were preparing their nestlings for their first flight.
Salim thumbed a truck on the highway and did not have to walk all the way to the town. The driver was a talkative man and had lots of information about the region. Salim learned that the valley and its surroundings were thought to contain some precious minerals but still undervalued. So it would be a good investment to buy some land these days. Salim ignored what he heard, thinking any likelihood of mining in the valley was a distant prospect. He did not want anything to disturb the tranquility of the valley, a part of which he was about to purchase.
He spent the night in a cheap hotel in the downtown. The next day he shaved in front of the mirror, combed his hair, and put on the jacket he never wore before and walked out of the room. When he came back to his hotel in the evening to collect his bag, he was a rich man owning a 100-acre land.