Creative Writing - The Vanishing HitchHiker
"It's like traveling with the disappearance hitchhikers," said Miran, how bravely his hand the wheel. He watched the movement with a view that steely Soliva he told something back. Wind buffeted the car from the track, as they went; stopped for a while in silence, absorbing the peaceful feeling of someone else as chief. The fog began to creep their windows and their minds wandered, when they saw him. She loved the feeling of loneliness gripping winter comes. There was something about the world virgin shortly before the first snow, the heavens and the earth stretched out long and gray, and the trees were bare and defy all. My mind felt stretched in the air then: still cold and stark. Cars drove by, and she wondered at the fact that no one looked out the window. Somehow, everyone had become disenchanted - fixed on the road - and not more fascinated by the crystal towers, which rose and fell informally on the glass before them.
"Do you have any idea who that is?" Miran Soliva moved back into his world. She looked at him blankly for a moment, considering.
"No." She turned away.
"People choose him, and they go with him for an hour. You look for a minute, and he disappears. You can always find leave - a business card or a note with a phone number. If they call, the people they reach, say, the man was hitchhiking was dead for years. hitchhiker was in the news this morning while we ate breakfast. you were stared at the TV when they say, you do not remember? "His eyes moved between her and the way in the future. Soliva was still looking out the window.
"I am here, Miran. Just thinking." Her body showed no signs of tensions, she said without turning.
Something Miran then left, and he gave. A mute, heavy feeling stuffed, as he saw it, to see the future, he was beginning to know that he could never have imagined. To him, it really was his disappearance hitchhikers-return quietly with him in life for a short time. No possibility of pretext or staying.
He remembered the call lonely, he would once by her aunt. She asked whether he in contact with Soliva, when he would ask them to call. He had been mentioned many times, but his words seemed to travel although her. Someday, he knew he would be a call their friends, a number of scrap some of them left behind. He saw himself, to those who broke through her, the threads that seemed to fall away, as they are harmless. As it seemed so easy .... To ease. So fragile. He was frightened for her.
"I think it would be nice to live." Soliva said suddenly. "I think I would enjoy his life."
"They want to ride in Tour cars all day long?"
Soliva looked at him disappointed. "He is moving. It is a life to touch, to see their places. Kindness you give him and he gives society. Nothing more. He is surrounded by the world and can only be. It is a beautiful way life. "
Miran stiffened, and a new sadness washed over him. He fixed his eyes on the road before and shivered involuntarily. Reaching forward, he turned to the warm air, and the fog and ice from the windows. Soliva sighed, and let slip away.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Jacques_Lacombe_Bouchard
0 comments:
Post a Comment