Skip to main content

500 miles - Fifth Mile







Maybe I should have prayed, but I should have believed...
That place was the Hell. Pure Hell. A pray could have helped.
But I should have believed...

The sister was renting to an old retired colonel. He had spent a lot of his youth in India. Now he spent a lot of his time in the toilet, which was always busy.
And that was a problem.

When I first came here, we never had no children in here. This was only for a married couple or one on their own. You had ladies here then. And what ladies! He laughed. He went on. There was rats under the floorboard...then came people from the council and took all the floorboards up and put all poison down for the rats and they said that, definitely, rats had been there but they'd probably gone somewhere else. To annoy somebody else...that was one of the colonel's tales when he was not in the toilette.

Oh, if I had believed...

One night dropped by us Rachel. A Jack's old friend.
We've got a new friend at work. You know her, Jack, you knew her when you went to school, Jack.
Really? Who's that?
Uh, Christine something or other...Coarsebottom or something.
Oh, I remember, Brewer, wasn'it?
That's it! she's on the bra counter.
Well-suited to work that, I'll tell you.
We all laughed. When you are young you laugh, you need to laugh, it is in the nature of things that you laugh, when you are young.
It is in the nature of things when you are young and poor, bloody poor, that you dream of a dignified life, and try to have dignified chats, and in your simplicity, you feel that you could even break that wall that keeps you far from what you hope for.

Seguimi su Telegram: https://t.me/princasvilniuje

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry dwells near the divine light's breath

  The comparison between poetry and divine light that we proposed HERE finds its perfect explanation in Saint Paul, Letters to the Romans I,19: τὸ γνωστὸν τοῦ θεοῦ φανερόν ἐστιν ἐν αὐτοῖς, ὁ ⸂θεὸς γὰρ αὐτοῖς ἐφανέρωσεν , what can be known of God was manifested to them (in men), indeed God manifested to them. Poetry unveils in the human being the need to be human, i.e.the need for Beauty, for feeling the Beauty in itself and with itself, and this feeling is supported by the divine light. As we are influenced by the idea of Saint Augustine of saeculum , we maintain that poetry belongs to the saeculum and therefore stops on the threshold of the divine light [ I] without crossing that threshold, but it senses the light beyond that threshold. We are taken to that threshold by the human feeling of Beauty within us that leads us up to there: up to that door that it is not possible to cross in our being human, but nevertheless, the very dwelling on that threshold is illuminated by the ve...

Similarities between Lithuanian, Sanskrit and Ancient Greek: the sigmatic future

by Fabrizio Ulivieri Lithuanian is the most archaic among all the Indo-European languages spoken today, and as a result it is very useful, indeed, indispensable in the study of Indo-European linguistics. The most important fact is that Lithuanian is not only very archaic, but still very much alive, i. e., it is spoken by about three and a half million people. It has a rich tradition in folklore, in literature, and it is used very successfully in all walks of modern life, including the most advanced scientific research. Forced by our interest for this piece of living archaism, we go deeper in our linguistic survey. One of the most noticeable similarities is the future (- sigmatic future -). Lithuanian has preserved a future tense from prehistoric times: it has one single form, e.g. kalbė-siu 'I will speak', etc. kalbė-si kalbė-s kalbė-sime kalbė-site kalbė-s This form kalbėsiu is made from the stem kalbė-(ti) 'to speak', plus the ancient stem-end...

My world before and after the so-called Pandemic

  Prior to the so-called pandemic, the world was different. I was different.  One of my greatest moments of pleasure was visiting unknown cities, lost in the unknown, following an unknown flux of life surrounded by unknown streets and people.  I felt invisible. No one knew me, and I knew no one. That gave me a strong sense of pleasure. The pleasure of doing things you usually avoid in places where everyday life, routine, and the fear of showing yourself in a way people are not accustomed to expecting from you. I am not sure what I was looking for in doing this. I remember I felt pushed to search for the essence of that world, as I could physically taste that essence. I was looking for an aura of mystery which could rescue me from my nothingness (I called it nothingness, but now I should call it stupidity—because now I realize what an idiot I was). I hoped for goodness from the world, I hoped for a magic of life, I hoped for an encounter which would be my Saviour, the Savi...