Authors note: Hello all! Once again I can't sleep feeling an urge to write a piece here. ;) Here we go. Another short story, I hope u guys like it.
"Something is eerily volatile about one. A single mind is less capable than two and a single man less powerful than a hundred.", Amos wrote as his frostbitten digits gingerly struck the waiting keys of the typewriter. "Click!" The machine hummed pleasurably at every new line drawn out from the man's weary mind. "One is isolated yet also free. Yet beibg one is nothing which I have found to be half as pleasurable as the decadent vigor of two." One he was. Amos paused from his diligent typing to make the journey. His every step was marked by the woeful cries of the creaky oak floorboards in his study. Weary.
Amos turned the brass doorknob and the blissful, white cold caressed the sides of his consciousness. "Cold out.", he exhaled. There was no Human answer. There never was. "Life's good." He was lying to himself.
Amos artificially made his way to the southern edge of a thin sheet of ice. He had never been so struck by the sight of this lake in the winter before. The writer peered into the vacant eye sockets that stared straight through his own from the clear slab of ice. The crystaline shards of тундра seemed to point towards something greater, something fantastic that be had not seen before. Amos's gaze followed a fissure in the ice to a single three foot tree. The Only one of it's kind he'd seen since he had begun his great experiment. "That's a nice tree." It had not Остаться в живых it's leaves. Only one. Amos hurried with gentle feet across the powdery blanket of snow that had covered the low grasslands of Maine as a mother does her first born in the blankets of her affection.
"One tree, one me."
Amos sat by the glowing fireplace as he swiftly tapped through the pages of his Ike copy of "Walden." "Thoreau did it. So can I. Bein one is he greates treat life can give." Amos uttered Hess words with a benign reluctance long supersede by his own will to convince himself that his oneness mad it go away. Made her go away. Made Teresa go away.
Self reliance was his virtue and oneness his creed. Amos continued to flip through old novels as a student does a notebook. Dutiful. As he began to pull a book from his stack, his interest was redirected towards a strange figure that had appeared on his cabin's front steps. It was her. It was Teresa.
"H-h." The young man could not speak. "Hello, Amos. Still hiding I see? Well, I've come with some news. Ты don't need to hide anymore. I want to L be with Ты again. We will travel the world just like Ты dreamed. Montecedro, France, the Balkans."
"Stay back!" Amos kept from his position in front of the fireplace and tripped over a journal he had been keeping about his time in isolation. "Teresa, I am sorry. I miss Ты so much." Tears began to form between the man's eyelids and froze with every breath his nostalgic Любовь drew. "Don't be afraid." She extended a confused arm out towards him, as if for a hand shake; nothing more.
"Stop damn snow!" Crash! Amos threw his journal through the circular stained glass window above the hissing grandfather clock. As the writer stumbled from the covers, he began to cry softly, and rolled out of постель, кровати without the grace of a five год old reciting the preamble to the U.S constitution. Amos did the only thing he knew how.
"Oneness," he wrote, "Is a curse of the mind and a poison to the soul. I am plagued by fits of nostalgia for my dearest Ter-" His hands became stiff. "Click!" The typewriter snarled at every jumbled line spewed out from Amos's pained mind. The кабина went dark, and the stained glass window above he old grandfather clock became a portal to worlds unknown. Amos dreamt of climbing up to that portal and pushing himself out through it, yet he realized that the best thing for him was to be one. And so he fell from his wicker chair and wove himself into a tight ball of angst. "Teresa," he whispered painfully, "Why can't we be two?" The old grandfather clock continued to hiss and the powdery snowdrifts had become an unforgiving blizzard. Amos was one, and Amos was not at peace. He cried for several минуты before a few cold tears trickled down onto the oak floorboards. Two of them.
"Something is eerily volatile about one. A single mind is less capable than two and a single man less powerful than a hundred.", Amos wrote as his frostbitten digits gingerly struck the waiting keys of the typewriter. "Click!" The machine hummed pleasurably at every new line drawn out from the man's weary mind. "One is isolated yet also free. Yet beibg one is nothing which I have found to be half as pleasurable as the decadent vigor of two." One he was. Amos paused from his diligent typing to make the journey. His every step was marked by the woeful cries of the creaky oak floorboards in his study. Weary.
Amos turned the brass doorknob and the blissful, white cold caressed the sides of his consciousness. "Cold out.", he exhaled. There was no Human answer. There never was. "Life's good." He was lying to himself.
Amos artificially made his way to the southern edge of a thin sheet of ice. He had never been so struck by the sight of this lake in the winter before. The writer peered into the vacant eye sockets that stared straight through his own from the clear slab of ice. The crystaline shards of тундра seemed to point towards something greater, something fantastic that be had not seen before. Amos's gaze followed a fissure in the ice to a single three foot tree. The Only one of it's kind he'd seen since he had begun his great experiment. "That's a nice tree." It had not Остаться в живых it's leaves. Only one. Amos hurried with gentle feet across the powdery blanket of snow that had covered the low grasslands of Maine as a mother does her first born in the blankets of her affection.
"One tree, one me."
Amos sat by the glowing fireplace as he swiftly tapped through the pages of his Ike copy of "Walden." "Thoreau did it. So can I. Bein one is he greates treat life can give." Amos uttered Hess words with a benign reluctance long supersede by his own will to convince himself that his oneness mad it go away. Made her go away. Made Teresa go away.
Self reliance was his virtue and oneness his creed. Amos continued to flip through old novels as a student does a notebook. Dutiful. As he began to pull a book from his stack, his interest was redirected towards a strange figure that had appeared on his cabin's front steps. It was her. It was Teresa.
"H-h." The young man could not speak. "Hello, Amos. Still hiding I see? Well, I've come with some news. Ты don't need to hide anymore. I want to L be with Ты again. We will travel the world just like Ты dreamed. Montecedro, France, the Balkans."
"Stay back!" Amos kept from his position in front of the fireplace and tripped over a journal he had been keeping about his time in isolation. "Teresa, I am sorry. I miss Ты so much." Tears began to form between the man's eyelids and froze with every breath his nostalgic Любовь drew. "Don't be afraid." She extended a confused arm out towards him, as if for a hand shake; nothing more.
"Stop damn snow!" Crash! Amos threw his journal through the circular stained glass window above the hissing grandfather clock. As the writer stumbled from the covers, he began to cry softly, and rolled out of постель, кровати without the grace of a five год old reciting the preamble to the U.S constitution. Amos did the only thing he knew how.
"Oneness," he wrote, "Is a curse of the mind and a poison to the soul. I am plagued by fits of nostalgia for my dearest Ter-" His hands became stiff. "Click!" The typewriter snarled at every jumbled line spewed out from Amos's pained mind. The кабина went dark, and the stained glass window above he old grandfather clock became a portal to worlds unknown. Amos dreamt of climbing up to that portal and pushing himself out through it, yet he realized that the best thing for him was to be one. And so he fell from his wicker chair and wove himself into a tight ball of angst. "Teresa," he whispered painfully, "Why can't we be two?" The old grandfather clock continued to hiss and the powdery snowdrifts had become an unforgiving blizzard. Amos was one, and Amos was not at peace. He cried for several минуты before a few cold tears trickled down onto the oak floorboards. Two of them.
'It was March 1957 and I was taking photographs in Paris.1 afternoon I went up the Bastille and I saw 2 Влюбленные on a balcony.They were standing very near each other.They were talking.I took just 1 фото and they didn't hear me.I called it Влюбленные at the Bastille.Luckily for me this фото became very Популярное in France.Soon posters and postcards with my picture of the 2 Влюбленные were everywhere.But I never knew who the 2 young people were.They never contacted me.'
'30 years later I had an exhibition of my фото in Paris.I was talking to some Друзья when suddenly a man came up to me and said,'I know your 2 lovers.They live near here.I can take Ты there if Ты want.'I immediately decided to go and meet them.This was their story.'
'30 years later I had an exhibition of my фото in Paris.I was talking to some Друзья when suddenly a man came up to me and said,'I know your 2 lovers.They live near here.I can take Ты there if Ты want.'I immediately decided to go and meet them.This was their story.'
Here are some еще texts from people.
1.Writing and then sending a funny e-mail или text message to my friends.And of course,imagining their faces when they read it.
2.I really like driving at night when there's no traffic,listening to my favourite music.I feel completely free.
3.Staying in постель, кровати on Sunday morning and Чтение the newspaper.Then getting up very late and having my dog for a walk.
4.I enjoy going to the jym and really getting tired then taking a long hot душ followed by a nice hot cup of tea.There's nothing better.
5.Turning off my computer at the end of the day.Leaving work,and getting into my car to go home!It's the best moment of the day.I Любовь it!
1.Writing and then sending a funny e-mail или text message to my friends.And of course,imagining their faces when they read it.
2.I really like driving at night when there's no traffic,listening to my favourite music.I feel completely free.
3.Staying in постель, кровати on Sunday morning and Чтение the newspaper.Then getting up very late and having my dog for a walk.
4.I enjoy going to the jym and really getting tired then taking a long hot душ followed by a nice hot cup of tea.There's nothing better.
5.Turning off my computer at the end of the day.Leaving work,and getting into my car to go home!It's the best moment of the day.I Любовь it!