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 donโt realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Misfortune by Szilvia N. Adler (short books to read TXT) ๐
- Author: Szilvia N. Adler
Book online ยซThe Misfortune by Szilvia N. Adler (short books to read TXT) ๐ยป. Author Szilvia N. Adler
Iโm in bed, the window is open and I am sweating when I hear the siren of an ambulance or firefighter truck passing somewhere in the distance. I roll out of bed, but accidentally knock over my little side table which I try to catch, but with a botched shot. The withering red rose in the Greek ancient vase comes to the ground with a bang as gravity grabs and pulls at it. As soon as it contacts the ground, the vase shatters into many pieces and the mushy and stale water spills onto the paper mess on the floor.
I step off the couch into the messy hardwood floor โ if you can still call that a floor โ to have a look outside. As I put my right foot on to the floor, shifting all the weight on it โ which I happen to realize as soon as the deed is done โ throbbing pain shoots up in me as my nervous system connects my carelessness with the resulting reaction. The little beige shard is halfway into the skin; the other half curiously peaks out. I pull it out with a poignant movement, then I throw it beside the withering, red rose.
On one leg โ with some cereal pieces crunching โ I hop to the kitchen, knock down the cheerios box from the table, spilling the rest onto the floor. I manage to get the tequila from the fridge and a light colored hankie from the drawer. I open my tequila, drink a few gulps and pour the rest directly at the abrasion. The burning feeling intensifies the pain; at least itโs sanitized. I roll the hankie around the wound and tie it; judging it will take some time until it bleeds through, then I call a cab and get to a hospital.
Publication Date: 08-21-2010
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