“The buckthorn, the gray heron, the goldfinch, hid in the depths of thick reeds, and behind it beautiful strands of alder. He knew where to go. He always knew.” – Our colleague appears on a monthly basis with an artist. They experimented to see if it could revive a long-forgotten journalistic genre, a short story for the portfolio.
The first thing that comes to mind is the first thing that comes to mind when I throw myself into the past. I don’t bury him in it, I just walk in its depths as a passing stage. Because it is dense. At least it became dense. Sloping from the shore of the lake, willows recline on the water, a chirping chirp tops it. I sit on the bench, faintly trying to figure out where the noise is coming from. I quickly cut through my check, preferring to land on the nearby beach. A small bird with a gray back with a blue spot on its chest with a red dot in the middle. The aesthetic of nature is this small phenomenon.
The morning just broke with the loud thud of dawn, and the toe of my shoe was studded with dew, as my eyes later did. Then he showed me how it worked, and he planted it in the boat, and then, as the first officer, I tied up the ladd. We ran out. As I am now with the passage of time. And then it was all there, just a departure. And look what it is now.
We drew a frothy strip after us, a raging rush, a wave, a dead man on the side of the river. Buckthorn, gray heron, goldfinch, huddled in a thick reed boil, and behind it beautiful strands of alder. He knew where to go. He always knew. To the right of the second branch, a little after the fallen willow. There is a lot of shaft there. Like routine sea bears, he led, sculpted, lowered the iron cat in the stern, and anchored ourselves, just as we moored at another time, somewhere …
The soldiers cut down on the bench, and he gave him salami and cocoa as lotion. The duck turned around somewhere beside the boat, looked at us politely, maybe even shook its head, and then swallowed the thicket. the past. Wherever it was, the worn calendar, the yellow time, long gone.
We went into the bush, graze, wait. During the winter, I would walk with a clapper in the lawn half higher than my head. I stumbled into silence when the pig was not on set. He said that I grabbed my foot during the evisceration process, it was necessary to become a man. I didn’t need any more, so I took my leg.
I drank apple leaves in cigarette smoke while the waiter was discussing. Nothing is at stake, more like an example from school on courtship. Old pieces of furniture supported the walls in all directions, surrounded by a mixture of loud sounds and words, but somehow deteriorated. They could feel it in their eyes. on it too.
Oh, how many mockup, puzzle and drawing. He is a great master of sealing and accuracy. He knew that. I grabbed the brush with my little fingers and did as my art dictated. I got my hands on it. He never hit, just in his words. But I was afraid of them. As an engineer originally, I was inevitably forced into the magical world of numerology, which was as foreign to me as his family. If I had to describe it now, I would say: lone wolf. But perhaps it is just a lost soul that has been lured into the labyrinth by the gullibility that comes with success. I don’t know, but I said he was in love. In the drink and in me. We were it. But according to them, he still liked the other a little better than me.
He introduced me to my first love, which has been happening since I’ve been wearing diapers. Familia Hotel, Balatonboğlar. Sitting on the resort’s beach cobblestones, I caught the first fish of my life with a pointed stick, wet pepper kneaded with red pepper on my hook. That night, the resort and I got to know the resort so much that we could have taken them for dinner and definitely tasted.
We were walking around small streets, and we learned to control, except that he lost control of himself in the meantime. One afternoon we stopped in a street. He stopped the engine, turned toward me, and I felt like he wanted to say something he wasn’t even ready for. I didn’t see much fear, but the light of life was dim in his eyes. He asked me if I would like it if he didn’t. I do not understand. Or do not want to understand. I told him he would always be here for me. He squeezed his little chair, lowered his head, and I saw something he had never seen before. He mourned. She was crying. I think he was shocked by where he got there. We didn’t talk about it again.
As I walked away from his items, I lined up in line with false happiness. For some reason I couldn’t be happy. he was not there. They said he couldn’t come. Of course, I immediately took it upon myself. Days later, he was called to hospital. My nervous system is weak, I did just fine, but I didn’t know then.
Runa Street, Uzuki. She was lying on the hospital bed, cheerful, although a little yellow, but we know hospital food. I shook my head and sat next to him. It smelled like a hospital, and then I realized it didn’t smell like a hospital. I came to visit again four days later. he slept. I didn’t have the heart to wake up, I knew sleep was everything. When I stood up, I woke up from the creaking of my chair. He looked at me with his leathery skull. He couldn’t speak, he only pointed to himself, and he had the strength. I asked him how he was, but he shook his head. He looked at him for a long time, with vague and empty eyes that had grayed out of the darkness of his sleepless evenings. He opened his mouth, but the word did not leave him. I wanted to know if I could help with something to make him feel better. did not answer. I haven’t seen anything this big anymore. Tears washed away everything, and I thank myself for that afterwards. Better like this. He hit my palm and closed his eyes.
I picked up the phone in the first episode. A foreign voice spoke to me, causing me to get up from the sofa. I didn’t pick it up, then I pushed it out. I slowly sat on the sofa. I lowered my hands like two lifeless pieces of cloth.
I had to say goodbye, but I had nothing to cry. Everyone around me was watching me and feeling how I felt the imperceptible and how I was processing the unfathomable. I did not understand, because nothing happened. This is just a transmission. A short trip is as good as the one we had together. I was a little pissed you didn’t take me with you, but I knew you’d be right when I got back. He did not reconcile. no longer.
