Welcome to our e-class magazine. Copy your best pieces of writing from wherever you have them saved and paste them as comments under the appropriate assignment. To read posts, click on the main assignment title. Happy posting and reading! - Miss Miller
He woke up with his neck hurting from the bad sleeping position. He wanted to make his first step of the day but when he transposed his weight on his right foot, suddenly he had a muscle cramp in it and felt down what caused a loud noise. Antonym, a sniper form his unit, made a noisy snore and continued sleeping after a very long entrance-guarding night. After massaging his femoral muscle, Zamitev get up from the floor, took his brand rifle MG320 and walked with a stride to the exit of this hastily built bunker. He knew that other guys from his unit are exhausted from harsh yesterday and so he wasn’t careful about noisiness of his walk because he knew they won’t wake up either. Arrogantly, he bypassed the guard and quickly crept through what used to be a bus window. Again, he was on the deadly stage.
First few kilometers were very easy as always, because there was nobody who could threaten him. Any anti-guerrillas and also any neutral villager who could be later bribed for information about him. His mission was top secret and his identity was never to be uncovered. Zamitev was nothing more than just a first Russian name which had come to his mind and so he had given it to himself. “Ha-ha-ha, another of them will be down after I push the trigger. I will be famous and they will be dead. Good for both of us” he maniacally said to himself while looking at the camp through his zoomed rifle lens. Lying in grass about 50 meters above the camp he checked all people standing outside. Because nobody was identical with the object of this mission and he hadn’t got any time, he did what he often did in a situation like this. He touched grass with his head, and concentrated on inventing a plan. As usual, his mind produced one of those fantastical and crazy plans, which he used to use when he was on the training. His officer often said he was bird-brained after he had come with bloody torso because of creeping in cranberries. As time passed by, he learned how to edit his crazy plans to those, from which he can escape without injury.
Zamitev crept quietly as close to the camp as his good sense allowed him. Then, still with his rifle in one hand, he reached his other hand to his backpack, where, in the various implement, he found what he wanted, a firm thirty meters long string. Maniacally, he aimed his rifle at a foot of a guard who was sleeping propped against a wall and then fixed his rifle to the ground. Then he looped the end of the string over the trigger of his rifle, crept one meter behind the prepared gun, where he stuck an iron pole to the earth. On this pole, he put his helmet. After he was finished, he took the other end of the string and managed to use the pole as a lever because his new position was twenty meters from his rifle. By this act, he could shoot from his rifle without being next to it, only by pulling the string. He was on two places in one time and he knew that it will take some enemies’ time to recognize that the helmet and rifle they are shooting at isn’t being held by their enemy. He knew he has to use this gained time very well.
After many days when anything interesting happened, guards in the main anti-guerilla camp weren’t careful anymore. Their positions were, as they thought, just “official” and so their day was consisted only of smoking cigarettes and talking about anything what came to their minds. It was a very nice summer day. Sun rays were warming up their naked backs as they were roasting bacon on a fire when suddenly, they heard a noise.
All happened very quickly. The shot from the Zamitev’s rifle caused a big chaos. The man who was the object of this mission must have felt he was in a big danger, because just after the shot, he escaped from the situation by running away from the camp. On his bad luck, Zamitev saw him and immediately started pursuing him to the forest surrounding the camp. His prey must have realized was being hunted, because even though Zamitev used all his experiences in shadowing, the man didn’t stop. ”Come on! There is no place, where you can hide. I came to talk with you” Zamitev shouted as he concealed his pistol while running.
Suddenly, he felt a brutal pain. He opened his eyes and looked at the agonizing source of the pain. He recognized it almost immediately, red liquid with which he was in contact all of his life, blood. It was all over his standing body. ”Bastards. Because of this, their death will be slow and painful” he said to himself after he fully became conscious of his situation. Naked, he was firmly tied to a tree. Suddenly, blood curdling and hair rising noise filled his head. It was a deep and long howl coming not further than hundred meters from him. When his mind became aware that he wasn’t going to be saved as usually, with bad physical and psychological conditions, but still alive, he realized it. The world wasn’t here because of him, and the world didn’t need him. He realized that his name will be forgotten, but his acts won’t be forgotten by his soul. Finally he found it out, but it was too late, too late for him. All of Zamitev’s maniacal desire for blood ceased from his eyes as the wolf continued walking towards him. He heard his steps, whose pace was being circumspect but also self-confident as they continued decreasing distance between them. A moment later, in the most inner parts of his mind, he found courage to look at his executor. Their eyes met. - Dávid Laco
It was a windy, foggy Sunday late afternoon. An old woman was standing in a tiny living room which was a part of her small house that was situated on a small hill that stood between two brand-new houses. She was staring out of the window. She was quite amazed of the sight of nature that was encountered to her eyes. The whole landscape was covered by a snow blanket. Branches of trees were bent under the great mass of snow. Some kids were having a snowball fight and making snowmen. Everyone, except of these kids, stayed at home to avoid this breezy cool weather. The old woman didn’t understand why all the people stayed at home and didn’t enjoy this nice weather. An immense wrangling came to her mind. If she could she would go for a stroll or play with kids, but she couldn’t. She had certain difficulties with walking. Almost all the time, she was bind to a wheel chair. After looking on the nature and observing kids, she sat on a small wooden armchair. She closed her eyes. She was tired of her loneliness and senescence. “If only I could have someone to talk with. If only I could have someone to spend the time with. If only I could have someone to express my feelings, thoughts, requirements, wishes and hopes. The only thing that gives me energy to live is my help in that small orchard.” She breathed. After a while she added: “But now, as the snow had covered the whole region, it is impossible for a weak old women like me to deliver food to the orchard.” An hour later she fell asleep. She woke up early in the morning as it was her custom. She went to the window. With great surprise and happiness she noticed that the snow which had covered the path leading to the orchard was gone. Now it was really possible for her to deliver food to orphaned kids. The cooking of the lunch took up almost the whole midday. After she had packed the lunch and got dressed, she seated herself on the wheel chair and got out of her small archaic house. In spite of the fact that it was windy and foggy as yesterday, wheels of the wheel chair could move, because the snow was cleaned away from the path. Finally she got to the old looking, gray, carvel-built orphanage. When she opened the heavy wooden doors and saw kids playing she felt satisfied and proud of herself as well. When kids noticed that the old woman came they dashed to her and screamed. “Grandma! Grandma! We are glad to see you!” When she saw their great eagerness and cheerfulness she felt like the happiest person on Earth. “Oh darlings! You can’t imagine how happy I am to see you again.” She said calmly. After this welcome full of emotion, kids ate the lunch that the old woman had laboriously, but with love, prepared. When they finished eating they expressed their thanks to her by kissing her on a cheek. Every Monday she used to read them a story or a tale before they went sleep. She was reading about 15 minutes when she noticed that almost every kid had fallen asleep. Only one boy remained awake. He was lying right next to her knees. Always, he was the only one who listened attentively up to end of the each story. When she finished reading the boy didn’t fell asleep. He kept on being awake with his blue eyes open widely. “Why don’t you go to sleep?” asked the old woman after a while. “I don’t want to go to sleep. I want to relish moments when you are here. I really like stories that you tell us.” The boy answered. Than he added: “You are taking care of us. You bring lunch to our poor orchard everyday. You always tell us a story before we go to sleep. I love you grandma.” After he had said it, he embraced. Then, with an obvious difficulty he started to add something. His voice was quaking. “I know that it is not my business, but I would like to know why you are living alone. Why don’t you spend much time with your family? For what reason, are you taking care of us and cooking to us?” The old woman was stunned by the boy’s question. An astonished expression occurred on her wrinkle covered old face. No one had ever asked her a question like this. No one had ever been so curious about her personal life. She didn’t give any response on this question. After a while the boy asked in low voice that the woman could hardly hear him: “Why?” Then she looked into boy’s eyes. His eyes were filled with expectations. She couldn’t ignore him ever longer. She closed her eyes. In her mind a miscellaneous tangle of thoughts and experiences was circulating. The longer she was thinking, the deeper her thoughts were. In front of her eyes many closed doors occurred. When she got closer they stared to open. The more doors she went trough, the more secret and deeper experiences and thoughts occurred. Finally she got to huge wooden doors. She tried to open them, but they were too heavy for her. It was something like a barrier that could hardly be swallowed. Finally, after putting in a certain amount of effort, she conquered the barrier and opened the doors. Suddenly, a whirl of her most secret experience drew her in. She had never experienced something like that before. She got to the center of her reasoning and thoughts. Rapidly, she opened her eyes. Her face was covered in sweat. The boy was staring at her with confusion in his eyes. The old woman looked into his eyes and whispered: “You helped me to see the heart of my problems.” Then she embraced him.
2 comments:
Another day behind the lines...
He woke up with his neck hurting from the bad sleeping position. He wanted to make his first step of the day but when he transposed his weight on his right foot, suddenly he had a muscle cramp in it and felt down what caused a loud noise. Antonym, a sniper form his unit, made a noisy snore and continued sleeping after a very long entrance-guarding night. After massaging his femoral muscle, Zamitev get up from the floor, took his brand rifle MG320 and walked with a stride to the exit of this hastily built bunker. He knew that other guys from his unit are exhausted from harsh yesterday and so he wasn’t careful about noisiness of his walk because he knew they won’t wake up either. Arrogantly, he bypassed the guard and quickly crept through what used to be a bus window. Again, he was on the deadly stage.
First few kilometers were very easy as always, because there was nobody who could threaten him. Any anti-guerrillas and also any neutral villager who could be later bribed for information about him. His mission was top secret and his identity was never to be uncovered. Zamitev was nothing more than just a first Russian name which had come to his mind and so he had given it to himself. “Ha-ha-ha, another of them will be down after I push the trigger. I will be famous and they will be dead. Good for both of us” he maniacally said to himself while looking at the camp through his zoomed rifle lens. Lying in grass about 50 meters above the camp he checked all people standing outside. Because nobody was identical with the object of this mission and he hadn’t got any time, he did what he often did in a situation like this. He touched grass with his head, and concentrated on inventing a plan. As usual, his mind produced one of those fantastical and crazy plans, which he used to use when he was on the training. His officer often said he was bird-brained after he had come with bloody torso because of creeping in cranberries. As time passed by, he learned how to edit his crazy plans to those, from which he can escape without injury.
Zamitev crept quietly as close to the camp as his good sense allowed him. Then, still with his rifle in one hand, he reached his other hand to his backpack, where, in the various implement, he found what he wanted, a firm thirty meters long string. Maniacally, he aimed his rifle at a foot of a guard who was sleeping propped against a wall and then fixed his rifle to the ground. Then he looped the end of the string over the trigger of his rifle, crept one meter behind the prepared gun, where he stuck an iron pole to the earth. On this pole, he put his helmet. After he was finished, he took the other end of the string and managed to use the pole as a lever because his new position was twenty meters from his rifle. By this act, he could shoot from his rifle without being next to it, only by pulling the string. He was on two places in one time and he knew that it will take some enemies’ time to recognize that the helmet and rifle they are shooting at isn’t being held by their enemy. He knew he has to use this gained time very well.
After many days when anything interesting happened, guards in the main anti-guerilla camp weren’t careful anymore. Their positions were, as they thought, just “official” and so their day was consisted only of smoking cigarettes and talking about anything what came to their minds. It was a very nice summer day. Sun rays were warming up their naked backs as they were roasting bacon on a fire when suddenly, they heard a noise.
All happened very quickly. The shot from the Zamitev’s rifle caused a big chaos. The man who was the object of this mission must have felt he was in a big danger, because just after the shot, he escaped from the situation by running away from the camp. On his bad luck, Zamitev saw him and immediately started pursuing him to the forest surrounding the camp. His prey must have realized was being hunted, because even though Zamitev used all his experiences in shadowing, the man didn’t stop. ”Come on! There is no place, where you can hide. I came to talk with you” Zamitev shouted as he concealed his pistol while running.
Suddenly, he felt a brutal pain. He opened his eyes and looked at the agonizing source of the pain. He recognized it almost immediately, red liquid with which he was in contact all of his life, blood. It was all over his standing body. ”Bastards. Because of this, their death will be slow and painful” he said to himself after he fully became conscious of his situation. Naked, he was firmly tied to a tree. Suddenly, blood curdling and hair rising noise filled his head. It was a deep and long howl coming not further than hundred meters from him. When his mind became aware that he wasn’t going to be saved as usually, with bad physical and psychological conditions, but still alive, he realized it. The world wasn’t here because of him, and the world didn’t need him. He realized that his name will be forgotten, but his acts won’t be forgotten by his soul. Finally he found it out, but it was too late, too late for him. All of Zamitev’s maniacal desire for blood ceased from his eyes as the wolf continued walking towards him. He heard his steps, whose pace was being circumspect but also self-confident as they continued decreasing distance between them. A moment later, in the most inner parts of his mind, he found courage to look at his executor. Their eyes met.
- Dávid Laco
The Unexpected Question
It was a windy, foggy Sunday late afternoon. An old woman was standing in a tiny living room which was a part of her small house that was situated on a small hill that stood between two brand-new houses. She was staring out of the window. She was quite amazed of the sight of nature that was encountered to her eyes. The whole landscape was covered by a snow blanket. Branches of trees were bent under the great mass of snow. Some kids were having a snowball fight and making snowmen. Everyone, except of these kids, stayed at home to avoid this breezy cool weather. The old woman didn’t understand why all the people stayed at home and didn’t enjoy this nice weather. An immense wrangling came to her mind. If she could she would go for a stroll or play with kids, but she couldn’t. She had certain difficulties with walking. Almost all the time, she was bind to a wheel chair. After looking on the nature and observing kids, she sat on a small wooden armchair. She closed her eyes. She was tired of her loneliness and senescence.
“If only I could have someone to talk with. If only I could have someone to spend the time with. If only I could have someone to express my feelings, thoughts, requirements, wishes and hopes. The only thing that gives me energy to live is my help in that small orchard.” She breathed.
After a while she added: “But now, as the snow had covered the whole region, it is impossible for a weak old women like me to deliver food to the orchard.”
An hour later she fell asleep. She woke up early in the morning as it was her custom. She went to the window. With great surprise and happiness she noticed that the snow which had covered the path leading to the orchard was gone. Now it was really possible for her to deliver food to orphaned kids. The cooking of the lunch took up almost the whole midday. After she had packed the lunch and got dressed, she seated herself on the wheel chair and got out of her small archaic house. In spite of the fact that it was windy and foggy as yesterday, wheels of the wheel chair could move, because the snow was cleaned away from the path. Finally she got to the old looking, gray, carvel-built orphanage. When she opened the heavy wooden doors and saw kids playing she felt satisfied and proud of herself as well. When kids noticed that the old woman came they dashed to her and screamed.
“Grandma! Grandma! We are glad to see you!”
When she saw their great eagerness and cheerfulness she felt like the happiest person on Earth.
“Oh darlings! You can’t imagine how happy I am to see you again.” She said calmly.
After this welcome full of emotion, kids ate the lunch that the old woman had laboriously, but with love, prepared. When they finished eating they expressed their thanks to her by kissing her on a cheek. Every Monday she used to read them a story or a tale before they went sleep. She was reading about 15 minutes when she noticed that almost every kid had fallen asleep. Only one boy remained awake. He was lying right next to her knees. Always, he was the only one who listened attentively up to end of the each story. When she finished reading the boy didn’t fell asleep. He kept on being awake with his blue eyes open widely.
“Why don’t you go to sleep?” asked the old woman after a while.
“I don’t want to go to sleep. I want to relish moments when you are here. I really like stories that you tell us.” The boy answered.
Than he added: “You are taking care of us. You bring lunch to our poor orchard everyday. You always tell us a story before we go to sleep. I love you grandma.”
After he had said it, he embraced. Then, with an obvious difficulty he started to add something. His voice was quaking. “I know that it is not my business, but I would like to know why you are living alone. Why don’t you spend much time with your family? For what reason, are you taking care of us and cooking to us?”
The old woman was stunned by the boy’s question. An astonished expression occurred on her wrinkle covered old face. No one had ever asked her a question like this. No one had ever been so curious about her personal life. She didn’t give any response on this question. After a while the boy asked in low voice that the woman could hardly hear him: “Why?”
Then she looked into boy’s eyes. His eyes were filled with expectations. She couldn’t ignore him ever longer. She closed her eyes. In her mind a miscellaneous tangle of thoughts and experiences was circulating. The longer she was thinking, the deeper her thoughts were. In front of her eyes many closed doors occurred. When she got closer they stared to open. The more doors she went trough, the more secret and deeper experiences and thoughts occurred. Finally she got to huge wooden doors. She tried to open them, but they were too heavy for her. It was something like a barrier that could hardly be swallowed. Finally, after putting in a certain amount of effort, she conquered the barrier and opened the doors. Suddenly, a whirl of her most secret experience drew her in. She had never experienced something like that before. She got to the center of her reasoning and thoughts. Rapidly, she opened her eyes. Her face was covered in sweat. The boy was staring at her with confusion in his eyes. The old woman looked into his eyes and whispered: “You helped me to see the heart of my problems.” Then she embraced him.
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