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New Stage
חיפוש בבמה

שם משתמש או מספר
סיסמתך
[ אני רוצה משתמש! ]
[ איבדתי סיסמה ): ]


מדורי במה








It was raining for many days.
I woke up and realized the rock under which I found refuge
yesterday didn't provide me with much protection.
Omnipresent water found its way and I was soaked to the skin
and I shook with cold. I got up and wondered if walking will
warm me up. Not likely, but what... I'll walk.
I walked.
I was raining for many days.
I left my insufficient shelter and didn't look back. Nor I
watched the way in front of me. I walked through meadow and
wringing wet grass whipped my legs. Crows circled above my
head, their gray bodies and black wings twinkled against
dark clouds heavy with rain. Croaks cut in my ears.
"Not yet, girls." I smiled. "Not today. Perhaps tomorrow."
But they continued in their perpetual circles and waited.
For me?
It was raining for many days.
Plain of wet grass ends in the infinity.
War was over. It was over even faster then it started and
it didn't leave alive anyone to celebrate the victory. Only
dead cities looked sadly to darkness. Quietly. No one was
left to penetrate the silence with laughter, scream, whisper
or at least painful moan. No one. Except croaking crows.
And me.
At last, at last we succeeded and now we're dead. And now I
walk and it's raining, raining for many days since the day
everyone's been silenced.
Where and why I walk is not important. Back then I thought
I'm looking for other survivors. I didn't find any. I went
through cities and called out, called out in dumb streets.
"Is anybody here?!"
And my calling was absorbed by wet walls and by broken
glassless windows and answer was every time more and more
devastating.
Answer, which was every time appearing in my tortured, sick
mind clearer and clearer was NOBODY and from my last call
before god knows how many days it's been glowing in there,
glowing in red and blinking malvolently from time to time.
So I stopped searching and went out of cities.
I'm passing grassland and world slowly shifts around me and
I walk and walk and walk.
I have no food and I don't care. Sometimes I pass by small
bushes full of some kind of colorful berries and with them I
drive away my hunger. Water, I have enough of that... water.
It's raining, isn't it?
I don't go anywhere, have no goal. I'll walk till I'll have
power for that and then? I'll become one with crows.




A tree emerged on the horizon in front of me. It stood
there abandoned and I decided my fair will end there for
today, I'll lean against its trunk, sleep for a little
while. Or for a long while.
It was an apple tree. Wild apple tree standing there in the
middle of nowhere, full of tiny red apples and under it...
she sat there.
Her long fair hair, maybe silver, maybe golden, I don't
know, were falling in soaked curls on her shoulders and her
blue eyes watched me, wide open.  
As my eyes watched her.
"You?" I whispered.
"You?" She whispered.
"Finally I found you," I said, fell on my knees, jabbed my
face to drenched soil and started to cry.
Yes, I found her. But can I talk about finding if I wasn't
searching? Is there finding without looking for? How did I
deserve it? I gave up, I lost everything, I stopped looking,
I found. To find her. Am I still alive?
I felt a touch on my arm and raised my face crying, dirty
with mud, from the ground. She was kneeling in front of me
and her eyes were glossy.
"How?" I said, unable to finish the question. How is it
possible, when everyone's dead? How could I find her here?
"How?" She repeated after me, or maybe she tried to asked
me the same thing. And then, suddenly, I started to laugh.
And the sound of my laughter seemed improper in this place,
but I didn't care, and my laughter flooded the silence. It'd
be crazy, foolish if she hadn't joined me, if she wouldn't
laugh as well. Or laughter exploded, drove everything away,
made us clean. And scared the crows away. They waved their
wings and were gone.
She showed me her hand. Opened. On her palm was lying a
small apple, red, cheerful and I took it from her, but I
didn't bite in it, I didn't taste it, what if it was sour,
what if its taste wake me from this dream?
And then, then we, kneeling on the wet ground in the wet
grass under branches of the wet tree, then we hugged. And we
were hugging for a long time and whispered words which we
found deep inside, in the long locked chambers of mind.

"Come," she whispered and stroked my cheek
"Where?" I whispered and stroked her cheek.
"Somewhere." She smiled and pointed somewhere.
"And then?" I asked.
"Do you always have to have a goal?"
So we stood up and far away I saw mountains enlightened by
the sun and towards them we went. I looked into her eyes and
drowned in them, we walked, left the rain behind, we
walked.
No, it wasn't raining anymore and I would, if it mattered,
ask:
"Was it ever raining?"







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הנהלת האתר אחראים לנזק, אבדן, אי נוחות, עגמת
נפש וכיו''ב תוצאות, ישירות או עקיפות, שייגרמו
לך או לכל צד שלישי בשל מסרים שיפורסמו
ביצירות, שהנם באחריות היוצר בלבד.
פות!








פרובוקטורית.


תרומה לבמה




בבמה מאז 2/4/04 7:32
האתר מכיל תכנים שיתכנו כבלתי הולמים או בלתי חינוכיים לאנשים מסויימים.
אין הנהלת האתר אחראית לכל נזק העלול להגרם כתוצאה מחשיפה לתכנים אלו.
אחריות זו מוטלת על יוצרי התכנים. הגיל המומלץ לגלישה באתר הינו מעל ל-18.
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