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**Geplaatst door de TopicStarter** : 01-05-11 22:51

[VER] When night falls - een verhaal in delen

Geplaatst door de TopicStarter : 01-05-11 22:51

Lang getwijfeld, maar nu toch een topic geopend om mijn verhaal "When night falls" te laten zien. Dit is een verhaal in het Engels waar ik elke week een stukje van ongeveer 250 woorden voor schrijf (voor een wekelijkse soort van nieuwsbrief). Het is wel een doorlopend verhaal, maar elk stukje is zo geschreven dat het probeert spanning vast te houden zodat de lezer de week daarna weer terugkomt om weer een nieuw stukje te lezen. Daarom is het iets anders geschreven dat een verhaal dat je in één keer leest. Aangezien ik wel 1500 woorden moet plaatsen, plaats ik meerdere stukjes per keer. Met een gemiddelde van 250 woorden per week duurt het dus minimaal zes weken voor er weer een nieuwe update is.
(ik ben al wel verder dan onderstaand stuk, voor wie niet wil wachten tot ik een update plaats: de rest is te lezen op mijn website: klik hier)
Enjoy!

When night falls

The sun already started setting, and the sky became a bright palette of red, purple and gold as the last rays came over the horizon. It had been a beautiful day, full of warmth and a light breeze had made it bearable to walk around in the Mojave Desert. Utah was a great state. It was a relief to be away from hectic daily life, away from the discomforts and pain I left behind. Here I was alone, with only Whisper keeping me company. Together we rode were we wanted to go, not seeing signs of civilization for days. The chestnut horse was grazing nearby, where the small Yoshua trees provided us shade.

I felt tired. We had ridden for quite some hours today; my back hurt and I had accidentally broken one of the stirrups. I always thought that a trip like this one should be: bareback, no saddle, no stirrups, just you and the horse and the stars at night. But reality differs from the perfect world in your head so often; too often, as I had noticed countless times. Still, I had to fix that thing. I could manage for a few days without it, but the end of the trip was still miles away, so I needed to hang on longer than I knew I could without complete gear. I took the stuff from the backpack that I needed to get through the night. It always surprised me when people said how cold deserts could be at night, but they were not even close. The temperature could drop at an unrealistic rate. I was always afraid to wake up and find Whisper, succumbed to the heat or cold or hunger or thirst. But he was always there, happy to see me awake and ready to go.

I could never grasp how he managed to do that. It looked as if he had a secret reservoir of energy inside him, from which he could tap any moment he wanted. It made me jealous, when I noticed the strength in my body fade away after a long day, the need to rest and the painful muscles that screamed at me to call it a day. And when I listened to them, lying down on the sandy ground I could feel Whisper looking at me; waiting to see if we possibly perhaps might continue the trip in the night. After some time he would realize we wouldn't, that I wouldn't get up and climb on his back to ride beneath the stars. It's not that I didn't want to. I just couldn't find any energy inside me. My mind felt broken, my body ached as I turned to my other side. At moments like these I wondered why I went on this trip. Was it the need for adventure? For adrenaline pumping to the body, trying to find out how far one could stretch mind and body by making a trip through the desert? Or was it just to leave the world behind, starting a new life somewhere in the yellow sand? I sighed, as a chill wind went through the tent. Perhaps I was just trying to prove something after all.

Those were the words they called after me when I left: I was feeling sorry for myself, I needed to prove that I could choose my own path. Well, in a way it was. But somehow it didn't feel like the only reason I came out here in the desert. I wasn't sure myself what I was doing. Perhaps I hoped that the reality of life would blow in my face like the wind at night, giving me a fresh sight on everything. That being out here alone would make me see things more clearly, since daily hectic life was far, far away. Perhaps I just wanted to feel alive.
The horse didn't mind. For him, it was all one big adventure, every day was a new opportunity, every grain of sand was special. Sometimes I wondered what the world might be like if we would switch places. Life would be a lot less complicated, I imagined. At the other hand, a lot of decisions would be made for you. And that was a thing that made me feel sick at times, when I realized that my life wasn't my own, that none of my decisions was really mine, that the world was living me. Out here, it was just about survival; the horse, me and the world which consisted not of computers but of rocks, sand and the clean air.

I woke up with a clear sky above me. The wind had dropped, the sun rose above the hills in the distance, and I felt the heat of yet another day burning on my skin. I looked around, but nothing seemed to be different, everything was the way I left it. I stood up, packing my stuff for the journey ahead. Suddenly I realized that something was different. My beloved companion, my twelve year old horse was nowhere to be seen. I looked around frantically, behind the trees, behind the tent, in front of the trees. Where did he go? Why was he gone? What happened? Questions raged through my head, I almost felt dizzy as I sank to the ground. Had he been stolen? Or had he just left me, continuing the trip without me, because I was the weakest link in the party? I shook the thoughts out of my head. That was just impossible. He was still here, somewhere. He just wanted to explore a bit more. Perhaps he was thirsty and had smelled water somewhere in the distance. He would come back. He wouldn't leave me. Of everyone in the whole world, he would be the one to stay by my side, no matter how weird or painful or fearful the situation would be. I could count on him.

Minutes passed. Not a sign. A soft breeze made the canvas flutter in the background. I looked around me, but no matter how hard I looked, there was no brown spot on the horizon that became larger and larger as he galloped towards me. A sour taste was in my mouth. This isn't happening, I said to myself. I was still dreaming, I was going to wake up any minute and be relieved, noticing it wasn't real and that I could continue where I left the previous day.
It was no dream. I started packing all the stuff. I had to go look for him. Perhaps I could follow his prints in the sand, if I was quick enough and the breeze had not covered them up. The tent was down quickly, but when I found the saddle with the broken stirrup leather, the tears came. I tried to shake them off. It was foolish to cry in the middle of a desert, when I had no means of transportation and a grim future laughed in my face. I needed to be strong to make it through. With some effort, I was able to put everything in packs and attach the saddle bags to my main backpack. Now I could walk without leaving anything behind. I grabbed the saddle and held it firmly against my chest. I was glad to have chosen a lightweight one without a pommel for this trip, which made it a lot easier to carry. Still, I realised quickly when I started walking that I could not go on like this forever. I needed to find my horse.

I could see some tracks on the ground that looked like Whisper's. They were not clearly distinguishable as being horse prints, but it was close enough. And besides, it couldn't be anything else, I said to myself. I started following the tracks. The wind had become stronger and the heat weighted down heavily on my shoulders. Quite soon I started panting and sweating, while carrying the saddle with more difficulty every step I took. I don't know how long I was walking before I realised that this was absurd. I couldn't walk to who knows where with all the gear, without any guarantee that I would survive. "If I don't find Whisper today, I don't know if I will see another day". The thoughts of doom and peril became more and more present in my head as the sun rose and the rays beat down on my back. I tried to ignore it all and focus on the tracks on the ground, on the brown figure that would soon appear in the distance and the whinnying I would hear before long. But not matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get the feeling of loneliness and the questions about Whisper's disappearance out of my head. Perhaps that's the reason they call it "desert", I thought. Because you are deserted into desolation. There is no one you can reach, no one to call for help. Out here, it's all about survival. But this time, it was only me and the world.

**Geplaatst door de TopicStarter** : 06-05-11 18:45

Re: [VER] When night falls - een verhaal in delen

Geplaatst door de TopicStarter : 06-05-11 18:45

Geen reacties? Ik begrijp dat Engels wat lastiger is dan Nederlands, maar ik hoopte wel op een reactie

**Geplaatst**: 06-05-11 22:29

Re: [VER] When night falls - een verhaal in delen

Geplaatst: 06-05-11 22:29

ik heb het zojuist gelezen en ik vind het wel spannend! mag ik vragen waarom je er voor kiest om in het Engels te schrijven?

**Geplaatst door de TopicStarter** : 07-05-11 10:35

Geplaatst door de TopicStarter : 07-05-11 10:35

In de OP staat dat het onderdeel is van een wekelijkse nieuwsbrief die ik moet schrijven, en de helft van de ontvangers van deze brief zijn niet Nederlandstalig. Dus dan wordt het gauw Engels

. Verder vind ik Engels ook wel een mooie taal om in te schrijven.
Bedankt voor je reactie!

**Geplaatst**: 08-05-11 13:44

Re: [VER] When night falls - een verhaal in delen

Geplaatst: 08-05-11 13:44

aah op die fiets

volgens mij zit het taalkundig ook goed in elkaar, knap hoor!!

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