utorak, 26. svibnja 2015.

One last surprise (short story/ kratka priča)




Tonight I will be joining writing link up organized by Natalia. As far as I know, the link up is open to everyone (and will stay open for the next six days) so feel free to join in! My short story is exactly 1000 words long. Read it if you like and if not you're not a fan of the written word, I won't hold it against you. 

Večeras se pridružujem povezivanju priča poveznicom (to bi bio moj pomalo smotani izražaj link upa na hrvatskom, što ćete, pročitala sam sve knjige Nives Opačić pa moram barem pokušati) koje organizira Natalia, koliko znam svatko se može priključiti (ali jezik pisanja je engleski) u idućih šest dana, tako da se slobodno i vi povežite. Moja priča ima točno tisuću riječi, pročitajte je ako vam se da, a ako ne nikom ništa. 





                                                         One Last Surprise



She opened her eyes. It was pitch dark. The air smelled faintly of sea and pineapple. Good, she thought to herself, taking nourishment from the air with both her body and soul. She wasn’t exactly disoriented despite the fact that she didn’t plan to fall asleep like this, or at all. It was just a bit strange waking up only to meet such a complete darkness. Not that it mattered. She could track her way from the beach to the rented house even blindfolded. Her legs knew the way, knew every stone on the path. This was where she used to spend her summers…and nothing has really changed. It made this place seem and even feel enchanted. Everything changes in life, everything but this place. That is why it always felt magnificently precious …but then something happened that made her realize that this place isn’t safe and this realization led to another one…that there is no safety to be found in this world. Now, she was old enough not to feel afraid to confront that terrible truth, old enough to casually let her mind return to its previous thought like it never felt the sting of that old painful memory but feeling the sting nonetheless. Learning not to run away from your sorrows is something that comes with age and practice, though it is perhaps an art that can’t be completely mastered. That must be it, she thought. That must be what made it special for me, but it wasn’t all. There was some real magic here, she knew because she could feel it. Had there been any wind or even a breeze, she could have smelled a variety of fragrances, aromatic plants native to this place but the air seemed to stand still. She didn’t mind this terribly, knowing that this absence of wind might be what caused her to unexpectedly fall asleep on the beach. Now she was glad that she did, glad to have this moment in her hands to do with it as she pleases. It felt brand fresh and new, this moment, like a spring flower picked up from a meadow still partly covered with snow. Even the sea was unbelievably silent like it was a giant snake suddenly hypnotized by a masterful snake charmer. The subtle smell of sea and pineapple was enough for her tonight, felt like more than enough.  She turned her gaze towards the stars, but none of them winked at her. The clouds must have covered them completely…she tried to make them out but all she could spot was the place where the pineapples ended and where the sky began. When she was a little girl, she was afraid of the dark or so she believed. She was to learn that she was really afraid of a particular kind of dark, the enclosed dark….and the cold.  The combination of the cold and the dark made her terrified, but the heat made her feel safe. Her vision of hell was that of a dark and cold place, never a hot one. The warmness of the summer night surrounded her and she could feel her skin respond to its touch. Like a cat, rubbing itself on her legs, this summer night felt domesticated and maybe it was. Maybe it took a genuine liking to her.  She took a deep breath. Out in the open, she never felt afraid. Not that she needed to be here. This place was practically deserted. The house she was to return to was a solitary one in this bay and will probably remains so, at least until this place becomes popular and loses its magic. She hoped that will never happen, but knew it probably will. She turned her gaze toward the pineapples. One cricket sang a solitary song and she managed to locate it once he stopped. Darkness surrounded her, but it was friendly darkness. Tonight the darkness managed to surprise her and surprises happen less often once you turn seventy. She was never really afraid of the dark, she knew that now. What she was really afraid of was not feeling. Afraid of sterile things. Tonight, there was nothing to be afraid of. Even in the night as dark as this one, she didn’t feel enclosed, she could feel life singing its song…even the stones beneath her fingers seemed to be alive, one of them got in between her fingers like it always belonged there. She picked it up in her hand and tossed it away, surprising even herself. Perhaps it was her hand that done it, so no wonder the head was surprised. The movement was too fast for the brain, it was an old reflex. The stone touched the surface of the sea and despite the fact she couldn’t see it, she knew that it bounced at least once before it sank in. She stood up, not forgetting to stretch immediately, an old habit she always kept. Lying on the beach made her feel sore, but only a bit. Perhaps she was too bewitched by the moment to feel it to full extent. Without thinking, she headed toward the sea. That always elusive line between the sky and the sea was a completely invisible one now, but one of the islands was visible as a darker spot somewhere on the horizon….This dark spot seemed almost like a mistake, paint splashed without a purpose. She took her sandals off and continued to walk slowly, feeling the smell of the sea becoming stronger and stronger. When the sea finally met her, she felt a sudden wave of sadness. This was to be her last visit, she was sure of that. Soon she and her companion will be too old to make this journey. They don’t have that many good years left. Somehow, that didn’t make her feel afraid, just regretful. She never got to fully figure out the magic of this place. But at least tonight, she got to feel it. One last surprise?

Broj komentara: 37:

  1. Ah, bittersweetness. Is that perhaps the favoured emotion of the artist? I felt that I was sitting there, in this special place, with a small stone getting in between my fingers, with that still air. Magic is no longer magic if we figure it out. xoxo

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    1. perhaps it is:) thank you so much for your comment dear Shawna.

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  2. Maravilloso post.
    www.caprichosasyconsentidas.com

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  3. I don't think I could write half as well as that Ivana. That was a good read.

    However, I am still tempted to submit 1000 words in my own Worzelesque style. I'll put my mind to it over the next day or so.

    OdgovoriIzbriši
  4. I really enjoyed reading your story Ivana. So well written and interesting. The last sentences made me think about life and how we see things as time passes by. I would imagine being regretful when teased with all the beauty and pleasures one may never experience again. This is truly sad and at the same very beautiful story.

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  5. Poseduješ divan dar pisanja! Svidela mi se spoznaja i sam tok misli glavne akterke i magična atmosfera koju znalački znaš da opišeš! Bravo! Jedva čekam novi tekst! Slatka ti je i skica! Povezala sam je devojkom iz priče :*

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  6. Ivana, what a beautiful idea to see friendliness in what usually is perceived as scary! Friendly darkness - wonderful! You described it so well - what we can smell, taste, feel with our skin, with our fingers, even if we don't see. It takes time, sometimes a lifetime, to come to such understanding. Beautiful! Thank you so much for writing and sharing with us! xxxx

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  7. Wow, such a nice story.
    xoxo
    Christy

    http://www.am2pmchic.com

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  8. Interesting use of the format. It was fun to follow it along and learn small bits as I went. Very clever! xoxo

    All Things Bright and Lovely

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  9. That's another great piece again.
    Amazing.

    Stay in Style
    Karen @ Lookbook Store Blogspot

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  10. I just love your descriptions. They really make everything feel so real. Congratulations!:)

    Giveaway - www.mykindofjoy.com

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  11. That was amazing! It was long but worth the read. You're such a genius Ivana <3

    Have a great day!

    xoxo,
    SHAIRA
    www.missdream-girl.blogspot.com

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  12. Wow, what an inspiring piece of work, Ivana! Love your spirits! xoxo

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  13. I love it, Ivana. Kinda bittersweet, great job, girl, You are a woman of many talents.
    xox
    Lenya
    FashionDreams&Lifestyle

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  14. That's a beautiful story, really inspiring!
    xx

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  15. What a beautiful piece! I really enjoyed reading it, the last line really had me thinking! Great job :)

    Florals&Smiles
    Twitter

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  16. Bellissima storia Ivana, e piena di spunti interessanti su cui riflettere!
    Sei stata bravissima a scriverla così bene e tutta in inglese! :)
    Baci!
    S
    http://s-fashion-avenue.blogspot.it

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  17. Priča je jako lepa, definitivno poseduješ dar za pisanje. Ja sam je malo sporije čital, u više navrata, zbog jezika. Tako ti je to kad imaš pasivno znanje bilo čega, ali miris mora i ananasa dočarava atmosferu i budi lepe osećaje. U nekom momentu podsetila me je na moj omiljeni film "Notebook".

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    1. hvala, ja sam isto gledala Notebook i svidjela mi se ta ideja pričanja priče iz perspektive starije osobe...ugodno me iznenadila i Voda za slonove (knjiga, film još nisam pogledala) i mislim da je baš lijepo dočarala starenje.

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  18. That is a beautifully written piece, Ivana and while English is my first language, I couldn't have write half as good as you did here. I love how your writing transport me back into a world where I felt every emotions and saw everything vividly in my mind, such is the power of your story telling. I do hope to see more stories from you in the future. xx

    Shireen | Reflection of Sanity

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    1. thank you so much dear Shireen. Somehow writing in English comes naturally to me, even though I don't consider it to be my first language.

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  19. The way you opened this story had me intrigued right away. You are a wonderful storyteller and have a way with words as well. Is there nothing you can't do well ;p

    Rowena @ rolala loves

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    1. yes, there is...to find myself a decent job! All I manage to do is to find contract work and part time jobs and I really need a full time job.

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  20. What a wonderful story and look at all these great comments! I was immediately intrigued with the words sea and pineapple. Ahhh, such a yummy expression. And I loved the way you described the sky and her search for winking stars. I love also how you suggest the significance and value in an older person. Your main character is a deep thinking person who has had a full life and knows herself well.
    Thank you for sharing. I like your blog and haven't been here before but I'll return. You are a very creative person! Love your handpainted pants!

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    1. yes, I'm very grateful for all the nice comments. I wanted to show that there is real value in an older person and that with years we don't become less human, but more human...sometimes I have a feeling the society doesn't understand that people have the same need for affection and interaction when they are older....perhaps even more because as we age we're less involved in the business achievements and that sort of thing and more focused on relationships.

      Thank you so much for your comment.

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  21. You do have a way with words, Ivana! What a beautiful story!

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  22. Ivana, this story has such beautiful imagery. I am smelling the sea and feeling the roughness of the sand under my feet. The poignancy of a life that is winding down. Thank you for your kind words on my story.

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  23. One last surprise...what a great line. I love being able to see so clearly in my mind the setting, as if I'm there too.

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  24. What a lovely story, and very wise too! Love to read more from you!

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All your comments mean a lot to me, even the criticism. Naravno da mi puno znači što ste uzeli vrijeme da nešto napišete, pa makar to bila i kritika. Per me le vostre parole sono sempre preziose anche quando si tratta di critiche.