Beruflich Dokumente
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The Girl The road was a vein in the sea, the wheat an endless billowy expanse of flowing grass, ebbing and eddying at the will of the wind. The road. Along this circuit a redness seemed to shift, as if at each moment a small part of the long gray line became a rustred, a dullish blur of the slightest variation. In another moment it the blur was gone, the gray was back, the unnoticeable shift in hue, unnoticed went on. Followed if only with great care. Evening approached from above, a dying dusk peaceably withdrew from the night with ease. The girl, self-guided along the route seemed not to notice the billowing of the wheat-sea nor the receding light, vanquished day. Her focus was the road, a linear world where the only way was forward, and she went thus; unstoppable master of a thoughtless world. Her wrist was thin, her hand was slight, and needlelike fingers moved little, guided by unconscious thought, whatever was needed to keep the car forward; her grip to the wheel. The way was silent, no sounds, no lights, just sharpening eyes and a darker world, darker than the one she left behind; she, the red pulse of a dark vein.
Hours later... As if to change the rules, she moved the hand not holding the wheel, and pressed the window, opening it, just a bit. A rush of wind blew through the crack, the air allowed only a small space to pass. The sound hit her ears unevenly, throwing off her balance, as the left ear listened to the roaring gust, and the right one the dull rumble of wind whipping through wheat. From the corners of her eyes she could feel tears streaming, they blew across her face as the wind caught her pupils, and there was a thud and a squeal as she swerved, deviating from the straight course. The wind blew cold against her skin, and the harshness became a tickle, prickling goosebumps from within as she regained control.
The temperature dropped as she disembarked, the cool wind had ceased, but the air remained gelid and goosebumps outspread through her body. The headlights left glaring to the road brightened an endless path, obscured finally by the diffusing beams. The girl looked up, the flatness of the field made for a seamless boundary between earth and sky. She starred into the heavens, the universe lay bare, twinkling
The Man
Miles More... His mouth was parched, dry to the back of his throat, he tasted his flesh on his tongue as he inhaled, taking short breaths through his mouth which intensified the cracking of his stained lips. Ahead the hills looked larger, the distance seemed less distant, he was nearing the place. He started to look around. Instinctively, he searched to see what was there, what was at the base of the hill. A flat plain broken by jagged ridges, which seemed mere anomalies at first, but when followed formed a pattern as they merged, heightening to form the foothills of the hill. All around, the sand, the ground, the dust which blew in the air was stained by this hue. He hadnt noticed it before but now he noted the commonality. The orange and blue skies were gone, as well as the glaring reflections. The sun was hidden behind clouds, and he found himself awoken in a new world. Different from the one he left behind.
Every detail of night before was clear, she had been there the whole time, unmoving, her shivers had stopped and tears had dried. The car. It had been left running all the while, its sputtering motor seized a few hours prior as the gas extinguished its last vapors, empty. She lifted her arms to stretch; stiff, painful and resistant. Muscles fixed all night. Was this normal? Statuesque. But she remembered it all. The night, the past six hours were clear as glass. Something was changing. Inside the car was a bottle of water under her seat. She remembered it now and walked slowly to the car, stretching through the stiffness. She reached under the seat,
The Man Hunger. He was hungry and thirsty too. He stopped to rest at the foothills of hills, to tend to the injuries that until now had seemed unnaturally ignorable. This was
forgetting himself in a place where the harsh heat was re-imagined as welcoming warmth. The Girl The water. She drank it all in one gulp. The plan had been to conserve, but she was too thirsty. Her throat bore the cracked feeling of desiccated flesh. The sick saltiness and blistery taste which comes to the throat when one has not drank in hours. Until then she was able to trust herself, her body and mind obeying the necessary commands, but in an instance of momentary weakness she faltered, and drank the whole thing down. A river of plastic infused water down her throat in one warm gulp. Her throat felt much better, her life however perhaps finished. Hours later... She continued to walk. The thirst thrice returned and the hunger even greater, yet she could not stop. Her body was unerring, relentless. Nothing mattered, hunger, thirst or otherwise. She followed the road into the west without a stop, not even a misstep. Even as the terrain started to change, her pace stayed steady. Eyes forward, all uncertain, save her steps which continued to take her forward. Days on.
She was becoming aware of another thing. Whatever her desires were, whether to quell hunger or thirst, they didnt correspond to her needs. Her mind longed for food and water, but her body never fatigued. It was if thirst and hunger only existed as someone elses memory, one which did not correspond to her current reality. She imagined thirst but she was without delirium. Whatever she thought she needed, she didnt. The hunger seemed an illusion, the pain a distraction. She was stronger than her mind wanted her to believe. With all that in mind sporting an expressionless face which telegraphed no emotion she marched on. The Man Shivers inside shivers. Now it was cold. The color of his dreams went from yellow to blue and when he woke up the sun had gone too. Things had changed, so had
fruit. Everyone is their own world and tonight he was his, looking down on the dark world that lay before him he realized, that it was all his. Every inch, every mile, was a
The Girl Her face was one with the sun, new worlds sprung up, as old ones passed along the journey. Different roads, new ones, old ones all led the same way. She led the way, moving to where instinct for lack of a better term called. Miles more, hours into days, daylight gone and back. She slept little, ate less, always moving on. Skin browned by time, and the bright. It was bright. All around her was sunlight, reflected perfectly from each angle, as if each object graced by its rays became an interpretation of its image. She looked ahead, noting the intensity but not noticing as the bright oranges and blues manifested themselves through muted distortions. She had been squinting all the while, for so long that shed forgotten what it was to keep eyes open wide. The brightness was a glistening blur and the images unclear.
Meeting When her hand, had made its last grasp, her leg its last push, and she ascended to the apex, she stood up and stopped. There was a man. They regarded each other cooly for a few minuets, noting the physique, impressions, and making connections requiring no words. Strange isnt it? the man said. There is still that disconnect. she answered, But I think its all sorting. So, we are to be human? He remarked. The bombs had long fallen, the biology of this place had long ceased, and the newcomers were adapting. I know emotion, pain, uncertainty does not suit our mechanized flesh. But then again ionizing radiation, and carbon based food consumption in a world with no more food, did not suit their biotic existence. After what they did to themselves, after what we did to them, I think we owe it to them to share the old existence.