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. The Girl of the Golden West by David Belasco (cool books to read txt) 📖
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clear!"
Again Johnson held out his arms to her.
"A new day--a new life--trust me, Girl."
In silence she slipped one hand into his; then she bowed her head and repeated solemnly:
"Yes--a new life."
Suddenly she drew a little away from him and faced the west again. Clinging tightly now to him with one hand, and the other raised high above her head, she cried in a voice that was fraught with such passionate longing that the man felt himself stirred to the very depths of his emotions:
"Oh, my mountains, I'm leavin' you! Oh, my California--my lovely West--my Sierras, I'm leavin' you!" She ended with a sob; but the next moment throwing herself into Johnson's arms she snuggled there, murmuring lovingly: "Oh, my home!"
A little while later, happy in their love and fearlessly eager to meet the trials of the days to come in a new country, they had mounted their mustangs and were riding eastward.
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Again Johnson held out his arms to her.
"A new day--a new life--trust me, Girl."
In silence she slipped one hand into his; then she bowed her head and repeated solemnly:
"Yes--a new life."
Suddenly she drew a little away from him and faced the west again. Clinging tightly now to him with one hand, and the other raised high above her head, she cried in a voice that was fraught with such passionate longing that the man felt himself stirred to the very depths of his emotions:
"Oh, my mountains, I'm leavin' you! Oh, my California--my lovely West--my Sierras, I'm leavin' you!" She ended with a sob; but the next moment throwing herself into Johnson's arms she snuggled there, murmuring lovingly: "Oh, my home!"
A little while later, happy in their love and fearlessly eager to meet the trials of the days to come in a new country, they had mounted their mustangs and were riding eastward.
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Publication Date: 08-12-2010
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