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. Seasons by Kelly Nuttall (thriller books to read .txt) 📖
- Author: Kelly Nuttall
Book online «Seasons by Kelly Nuttall (thriller books to read .txt) 📖». Author Kelly Nuttall
The Wind Blew Today
The wind blew today, and I saw a youthful you in the bustle of the leaves. When the wind shifted directions, I saw the moment I knew that I loved you. I remembered it solemnly.
The rains raged today, and as drops fell, I saw you wash away and out of my life; and I shuttered with the memory.
The clouds drifted by today, and they showed me an older you; and I ached because I missed you.
The sun shone bright today, and in its rays I saw your end; and my heart stopped as I wept for you.
LIAR
“You are a liar!” I chuckled.
“I’m sorry, what did you just call me?”
“L-I-A-R. That spells liar, which is what you are.”
“Why would you say that?” she asked with a pained tone.
“Because you are the mother of five very alert children, and you are proudly bragging about how sad you are that summer vacation is over, so I say you are lying.” The other woman’s mouth dropped wide open.
“Well, that is just rude. What kind of a person are you? Or better yet, what kind of a mother are you?”
“An honest one,” I said firmly.
The Daughter Rose
I am wrapped up tight within myself, hoping to gain enough strength to one day be seen. And who do I wish to be seen by? The world of course, but mostly by the one who nourished me; yes, that is who I want to be adored by the most. She gives me the sun and the rains to make me strong. And with each passing day I feel my strength increasing. The light of life begins to pass through my velvety soft skin. I loosen up and begin to spread apart, blossoming into what I am meant to be.
Publication Date: 09-04-2010
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