An out-take from my novel "And thus my journey began".
A story about a german of noble-blood traveling to England to write a book about the english.
Love, death and new life his journey brings through the plague-torn country of 17th century England.
"Thou let him depart?" Willard shouted.
"Aye, this I did." Matthew replied.
Willard gazed upon Matthew with hatred and distrust.
"I thought we had made a decision upon this at an earlier time! How could thou let him go?"
Matthew sighed from tiredness.
"I tried with all of my capacity to keep him here... thus it was, and still is his destiny! I had no choice other than to let him depart, for I had not the heart to keep my brother tied to this soil against his own will."
Sven had stood in one corner listening to the argument before he cut into the conversation like a knife cuts through meat.
"My fellow brothers, thou shalst not bicker amongst thy selves, our brother is gone and we are all too late. Destiny has made its choice to take our brother with her, and she is a power all too mighty to battle. Like a goddess, so she gazes upon us mortal beings and laughs at our poor attempts to stand up against her. We must face the truth... our brother is dead!"
Willard's eyes widened like that of a gazelle that had just spotted a lurching lion, and he cried out in despair.
"NAY!" He then took a leap across the room with his fists launched at Sven.
Sven took the blow right over his left eye, and blood started to dribble from his nostrils.
Matthew reacted immediately, and took hold of his youngest brother.
Willard's arms flung around, as if he was fighting an invisible demon, before he at last calmed down.
He started to pant like a warm dog in summer heat, and then he wept like a child.
Matthew embraced his brother until his miserable sobs ended.
The three brothers gazed upon each-other. No words were needed in this moment, for they all knew what the other felt. It was a special bond of these siblings that could not be broken. Not by time nor by infinity. Not even by death.
Short story by Sabrina
Read 1549 times
Written on 2006-10-01 at 16:36
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A story about a german of noble-blood traveling to England to write a book about the english.
Love, death and new life his journey brings through the plague-torn country of 17th century England.
The three siblings
Scroll 4"Thou let him depart?" Willard shouted.
"Aye, this I did." Matthew replied.
Willard gazed upon Matthew with hatred and distrust.
"I thought we had made a decision upon this at an earlier time! How could thou let him go?"
Matthew sighed from tiredness.
"I tried with all of my capacity to keep him here... thus it was, and still is his destiny! I had no choice other than to let him depart, for I had not the heart to keep my brother tied to this soil against his own will."
Sven had stood in one corner listening to the argument before he cut into the conversation like a knife cuts through meat.
"My fellow brothers, thou shalst not bicker amongst thy selves, our brother is gone and we are all too late. Destiny has made its choice to take our brother with her, and she is a power all too mighty to battle. Like a goddess, so she gazes upon us mortal beings and laughs at our poor attempts to stand up against her. We must face the truth... our brother is dead!"
Willard's eyes widened like that of a gazelle that had just spotted a lurching lion, and he cried out in despair.
"NAY!" He then took a leap across the room with his fists launched at Sven.
Sven took the blow right over his left eye, and blood started to dribble from his nostrils.
Matthew reacted immediately, and took hold of his youngest brother.
Willard's arms flung around, as if he was fighting an invisible demon, before he at last calmed down.
He started to pant like a warm dog in summer heat, and then he wept like a child.
Matthew embraced his brother until his miserable sobs ended.
The three brothers gazed upon each-other. No words were needed in this moment, for they all knew what the other felt. It was a special bond of these siblings that could not be broken. Not by time nor by infinity. Not even by death.
Short story by Sabrina
Read 1549 times
Written on 2006-10-01 at 16:36
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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