Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Three Matchsticks by Lissie Rose (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📖
- Author: Lissie Rose
Book online «Three Matchsticks by Lissie Rose (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📖». Author Lissie Rose
1. How to deal with loss.
2. Foxes can be sneaky.
3. Welcome home.
He tried to remember. And though conscious of its fruitlessness, nothing can drag him from his daydream. The way she smiled and the inflection at the end of her laugh, it seemed somewhat sweeter in his head than in anything his photos could capture. So standing on the edge of a cliff, cloying at the spindles still spiralling from his lurid imagination, it was like waking from a restless sleep. Because no amount of concentration or patience or persistence would ever evoke those memories in real colour again. And the goodbye in his mind would always lead onto a hello.
Thinking about urbanites lately. Foxes mainly. They're too busy in dens and offices during the day, scoping out the next sweet wrapper and sole shoe. Sleeping off hangovers and watching worms mate. Foxes in the day are worthless to the urbanite community. When one should happen upon the fox, they have certainly seen and measured you, and are angry at your appearance, this being their time away from city pressure. They would never say this. For above all the fox is a lordly type for whom these social niceties weigh heavily. So stay inside, keep to the way of things.
The train takes longer on the return. The more you look out of the window, the more it seems as if someone has painted the same scene over and over. Trees. Cow. Sheep. Car. Field. Trees. The man sat opposite is half asleep, slightly drooling into his newspaper, while a woman tries quietly asking if he wants a coffee. Trees. Cow. Sheep. And you're cramped and bored and hungry and restless. The bathrooms stink and the tables are sticky. But when the train finally stops and you see your mother from the station, you smile. And it's all worth it.
Publication Date: 07-17-2012
All Rights Reserved
Comments (0)