Shot from the window. We bust open the door. Master bedroom was wide open. Master bedroom was brightly lit, and the master was sitting there, calmly ... and our stopped ... it was the lord ... I entered. You said to me calmly .... It was me, just me, I told him ... the good slave, a faithful slave, slave slave, and suddenly his eyes were two scared of cockroaches during the rain ... I hit him, blood splashed: dessert plating techniques it's only baptism, dessert plating techniques which today I can still remember. Aimé Césaire
Wheels dessert plating techniques Ryanair aircraft are echoed dull, reddish fuselage was covered in large black letters: Mmmmmmmhhhhhh-Baden Wuerttemberg. We've all felt that it can not be long until the descent. The flight was calm. Hour under white clouds, sometimes under the blue sky, while the small windows could see a beautiful winter landscape.
There is only to slip through the dark clouds and fall to the ground in this country. Here we had only a slight turbulence. It does us no shaking, and we feel fear. Wheels aircraft are whistling kissed asphalt machine touched the edge of the runway, made a small bow and stopped. Children were screaming and crying. Adult passengers, on the contrary, that by the time of landing were almost frighteningly calm, suddenly began to speak out and struggle over who will be the first to reach his coat, your purse or anything that they had been stored above your head. Some are smiling, others were pushed to first get to the exit. Only one woman with a baby in her arms remained seated. She fed her his big white breast. It was not until I was at that moment it became clear that there is no return. No. I have to accept the fact that I finally got to this part of the globe, which to me, as I was about to really walk in on him, he seemed dessert plating techniques like the Promised Land. While I did the first few steps, looked around and breathed the cold air, it grips me is hence something inexplicable. I hurried ... and I did not know what came over me that. Quite a normal dessert plating techniques country. Bustle of the crowds customs control. The rows of passengers and fuss, low-ceilinged dessert plating techniques part of an aerodrome called terminal. Everyone seemed somehow relieved. Excitedly. They arrived in their country. He and another guy, who until then have not noticed, we have acted contrary as lost. In this strange land, of which we have so far only read and heard, we had to first look around. Where am I and how did I get here? Now I'm down there. I'm thinking about that up, one very remote location. dessert plating techniques No more thinking. No more back. Mechanically I moved one foot in front. Step by step. Everything should go quickly. Even to me, and the only one to think of the past stopped dessert plating techniques on the road. I did not know where I'm going and how I will get there. dessert plating techniques But it is far more did not matter. As half asleep I went through passport control. Outside, I was waiting for a bus. There I noticed that I'm not the only one here is different, the only foreigner on board. There were at least eight such as me. Outside, we waited some billboards in hand that read "UN". We approached him. It seemed as if we were two beggars who this man pray for a little compassion. It was one of the natives. He acted as if we did nothing but numbers. Or sheep in the herd found its own pastor. Rude boy is a sign with the acronym "UN" negligent in his left hand while his right hand from the back pocket of trousers pulled a piece of paper and read out our names. Listless and deep voice. dessert plating techniques One is still missing. His name was Lars. Lars Schwartz. It was the Swede. While we have our shepherd pointing finger that was our bus, although we recognize it, and so he had to continue to wait Swede - if this ever occurs. We sat in their seats. This is not really a bus, but rather would say minibus. We waited and watched the crowd of people at the entrance dessert plating techniques and exit of the airport. Expectation neighbors. Hugs, sobs and joy. It was not entirely clear what this actually happens, but I already felt a longing that occurred whenever they would have to wait for those who come freed from their usual poses and melted into smiles and tears. Understandable. In this country, down here, there was a terrible war, during a few months thousands of people lost their lives. Those who were able to save themselves they returned to their homeland to pursue a life in ruins or simply to visit relatives and to help them. The feeling of what I did not know and what I've never experienced. Sitting in a minibus from behind, through the dirty glass I saw my mother, who remained seated on the plane to podojila child to be welcomed with an old woman in a kerchief and an old man with kečetom on the head. They took her child and embraced him. At that moment I saw our guy, how warmly shakes hands with a man who must have been our Swede. Suitcase dessert plating techniques were put under my seat, and then they both pushed the bus.
Maybe it was because of the suitcases, the Swede came over and sat down next to me. One "hal
No comments:
Post a Comment