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Carol Serling (ed) More Stories From the Twilight
Doctor Who Mysterious Planet Terrance Dicks
[heft] Perry Rhodan 1181 Die Clansmutter
Devon Monk Allie Beckstrom 1 Magic to the Bone
DIACZENKO MARINA I SIERGIEJ Kaz
Amanda Lukacs Taking Chances (epub)
[heft] Perry Rhodan 2255 Die Distanzspur
Banks Maya Zrozumienie
Cost of Loving Kelly
beniowski dalsze piesni 4

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.Phophsene.” This man was actually a former bricklayer, who had worked with my friend on many projects before retiring, which he did when he was already in his eighties.He’d never risen higher than an assistant bricklayer; he was no whiz, maybe even below average, and he was as tall as a dwarf, without being a real dwarf.My friend continued to hire him for small jobs around his house and garden, and he appreciated him for his optimism and honesty.He’d been given his nickname years before by his fellow workers to mock his faith in a remedy he’d been prescribed once in the Hospital, and that he kept taking and recommending to others for years, something like “phosphene,” which in the cheerful ignorance of the town’s bricklayers became “phophsene,” and it stuck.Anyway, after he’d laid the bricks on the roof and was on a ladder plastering the side that was visible (the house had a very high roof), Mr.Phophsene fell and landed on the sage.Amazingly enough, he wasn’t injured.For a few minutes, he was a little stunned, but then he brushed the dust off his clothes and was soon climbing back up the ladder to finish the job.Mother, who’d recently broken a rib after slipping and falling on the sidewalk, expressed her gratitude to Providence, though I knew that inside she was ruing the fact that “the old goat” hadn’t died.My friend finished off the story with general words of praise for Mr.Phophsene’s character.He would wake up in the morning to the sounds of him singing in the garden, and when he asked him where he found so much joy, Mr.Phophsene answered: “Sometimes I wake up feeling bad, my soul sorrowful and my body aching, and I get up, get dressed, and walk to the Cemetery, there and back, and it all goes away, because walking releases endorphins.” Quite a role model, and at his age.The fact that the destination of this therapeutic stroll was the Cemetery had no special meaning: the three long walks near town were to the Cemetery, the Station, and La Virgen (a sanctuary), and all three were about half a mile from downtown.However, the most traditional one was to the Cemetery.In my family, we always drove to the Cemetery, except once when we walked, like poor people do.It must have been a Sunday my father was away.In general, Pringlesians don’t walk very much, they drive everywhere, that’s why that half mile seemed so long.For about half the way, there were eucalyptus trees lining the paved road, but the final stretch passed through open country, past empty fields.I always thought I’d planted one of those eucalyptus trees, but this could have been a false memory; I know that it’s a vague, confused one.One year, shortly after I’d started school, the students celebrated Arbor Day by planting trees, and they took us to the Cemetery road.As the top student in my class, I got to plant one, and I assume they placed me, maybe with a couple of classmates, in front of a hole that had already been dug, and I stuck in the little tree.It’s all blurry, but there’s one detail that is very clear, so clear that I wonder if it was the only thing that really happened and that I invented the rest to fill out the story.They made us learn a poem by heart to recite during the event.The poem was in a book, and I remember a two-line passage from that poem perfectly (more than remember, I can see it, see how high it was on the page):I plant a seedin this lil’ole*There was a little “superscript” asterisk on the last word, which referred to a footnote at the bottom of the page where there was another asterisk and the words: “little hole.” Because of the meter, and maybe to make it more natural for a child to recite, the author had written the words as they were pronounced colloquially.But because it was a school book and the correct form had to be indicated, they used a footnote.In any case, trees aren’t planted from seeds but rather as “saplings,” or whatever they’re called.Fifty years later, the eucalyptus trees on the road to the Cemetery were enormous and old, and I would never know which, if any, was “mine.”To return to my friend and the picturesque events of his life: the story of Mr [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]