Sleep & Sense

- What do you think, why do you sleep fourteen plus hours a day?
    - I feel like my dreams make much more sense than my real life.
- Any idea what to do about it?
  - None.
- So write them down. And sell it.
- I think only person who'd buy the book is me.
- A, that's not true. B, it explains a lot about the sense of real life.
- Does it? ...

waves

often I float, fly or hang out under the stars,

change occasions, cross roads, streets and bars,

with no idea what to look for, It’d be easy,

I’d just rush and chase my own pleasing,

but you said we’re different, and that’s it,

remember, I quit only if you quit.

so I know, with every episode of this dream,

I smile from my sleep, balanced, I’m in.

standing so close to you as I did,

no more to want, no more to need…

I stare into such foreign eyes and count,

the loud heartbeats, together they haunt,

but no fear can cut my feathers,

we kill the “can’t”s and break the “never”s,

not one bit afraid, that I dive too deep,

I touch, play, rise up, outrun the sleep,

I blink, imagine that you are mine

and kick start an alternate lifetime

there’s no true love, no written fate,

just people as waves, who meet and resonate,

I believe yours landed at a special place

I don’t even want to cool down the pace

because

no dreams warm like these:

the peace I always wildly miss,

one can only wonder what it really is.

You may not be the Sun.

in the days you were the only and first
you were said you were one of the kind.
you were said you were unique.

but unique you are just
by what you mean to someone else
by their side and through their eyes.

if you stare into yourself
you will go blind.
are you really that high?

take the look around.
there is so much to care for,
better not waste a minute.

but waste whole lifetime
for those worth it.
once you find them…

love is not for you.
love is nothing you need.
it is for them.

The Art of Finding

Believe what you want, I believe one thing:

even paths parted far have a great chance,

a chance that any turn of wind can bring,

to meet again, somewhere not too far to reach,

With time and will, with universe on my side,

I smelt memories into unbeatable life guides,

I tune in and gather luck, with smile I sky-dive,

except death there is nothing that can’t be fixed.

I step up, and try, and always carry on,

pay for mistakes and catch the new inspiration,

reinforce my wings for hundred more flights,

I wake my spirit and take over the motion,

With time and will, with talent to seek and to give,

with you.

Except for Love and Kindness.

I always strongly wish that you could fully read,

things in my head, the fight, the pity, the need,

Four fronts open, mosh like never seen,

and not a single one is really breaking in…

Blinded I keep on chasing the dream,

sleepwalking on heaven’s thin rim,

I forget, I rage and take the blue pill,

I knock over the glass, I let the evil spill,

to save self from all the visible dangers,

stray away and look for random strangers.

The body that is a prison for the mind,

my mind would be yours, if it’d be mine.

But I learn, it is never enough to think

and even not enough to tell.

Deed is more than promise in blood ink.

Those who do, they do fare well.

But I got nothing much to give you

Don't wake them

so you stepped in the dark place,

beware of the lights

go careful, better cover your face,

they may burn your eyes.

watch your steps, mind your head

the fear’s near

the joy leads where one drops dead

come, my dear

don’t turn around, if you ever want to sleep

don’t wake them

for the secret is now only ours to keep

don’t wake them.

Bad Part

The eyes and hands they guide
into the woods - after the game.
I eat the pride instead of another bite.
And protect the treasure through fire and flames.

Deep within there's the check-mate made,
and still I reach for chances and aids,
collecting scars fighting demons,
while your face says 'dream on'.

Talks and words are all bullshit,
we play, I quit only if you quit...
some say you can never fight fate,
I turn hopes upside down, no faith,

How could I make the losing move,
when both the opponent and the prize is you...

Some say 'never too late to get laid',
I say never let go of the soulmate.

at gates

Why on earth,

does the life branch,

on every edge of choice?

Until you choose,

everything remains possible,

after that there is just one path.

And them all,

none is wrong, all are right,

each and every string of chance.

It’s up to you,

no other can do,

what you’ve done and you will do.

Step forward,

at gates of unknown,

no doubt, no chains to hold you back.

Let it come,

the things you dream of,

let in the touch and feel complete.

May those who never stop,

be your guides,

to the land of your own tomorrow.

Surfaces (1)

constant fear and luck of love
made me ruin the world above

can’t unsee what I have seen
her face with Grim Reaper’s grin

dreams of blind and frightened sheep
return since I could never sleep

then I reach for you the blurry light
and pray till things are back alright.

wall of laments

beyond horizons
the faces say, you’ll change
and then, what comes
rebellion, off their heads

who should you follow
when covered faces know the most
you spilled the time, now go
run and pray, forever lost

drop unstarted letters
those who’d never read
asked us to play the game
of unspeakable greed

spoilt from decisions
fragile and unaware
torturing the little kids
they all once were

afraid to split into two
while we split into million
others could do it too
frightened turn the mind on

freak out on what you’ve done
oh dear, it’s been years
deep into what should never come
we thrust our tears.

When No one in Your soul is a friend that Ever knows Where The time goes Or Flies the life On one side Of the river Never stops At the end Step to The road to Hell and see What you Have Got Back Standing Out of The circle Like There is nothing To wait For those who Never return But What if they remain Maybe some of many I always will Be against.

For Beloved Sister

a short story of the evil mirror.

For long centuries, items with strange and unrevealed powers were held safely out of the range of unaware people. But recently some of these artifacts were brought to common people and secrets about their evil abilities have been lost.

“Good morning, Stewww!!!”
That morning wasn’t even pretending to promise something nice. It was an ordinary school-day morning, a few seconds after seven o’clock. For Steven waking up after weekend made a couple of serious difficulties.
As if an opposite reflection, his sister was full of energy, no matter it was Monday.
“I don’t understand how you can lie so dead when it’s such a beautiful day out there!” she danced around to the window and punched curtains open. The room flooded with faint yellow glow of dawn.
“You don’t understand many things, Sonia.” Steve grunted, yet not really awake. He managed to sit up in his bed. His younger sister got stuck examining herself in the great mirror on the opposite wall.
“Do you think I’m pretty, bro?” Again… The same question required the same answer. “You are. Just don’t let the other one bite you.” Steven grinned when she watched herself nearly sweeping the mirror with her nose. “I’m not afraid…”
“Come on, darlings! Breakfast!” An ordinary day, an ordinary breakfast. “Guess what, Stew!” Sonia laughed at him over her toast, “I’m going to the HarshHallows concert on Thursday!!” Steve pinned his parents with a glance of mixed feelings. Surprise. Disappointment. Jealousy.
“Me not, apparently.” Steve turned down to finish his toast and let this thing pass by. HarshHallows is the most popular punk-rock band of the month. Everyone will be at that event. Except me, as always.
“And who are you coming with to such a concert in your age?” Steve blew. It was no use anyway. “I have a whole bunch of friends coming to that event, you know. So there will be no trouble at all.”
“ Always so popular, my girl!” their mother squealed at a moment and rushed into their conversation. “What kind of band are those Marshmallows, my dear?”
“A boys’ band. And they’re so cute, mom!”
“I bet they are. We got the last ticket for you!” Steven rolled his eyes. Better take off for the school. Running for the bus with his five-and-half pound backpack was the thing that really woke him up.

But Steve’s mood dropped even lower when he realized that whole school is just into the concert. There was nothing else to discuss, just how, when and who to meet, what to wear and bring to the event. HarshHallows’ songs screamed down the corridors and everyone was exchanging posters, pins, shirts, stickers and whatever had something to do with the band. The hardest hit for him was to see his sister in an oversized black HarshHallow T-shirt, surrounded by the elite punk-rock gang.

“Hi, Stewww!” Everytime Sonia came from her Tuesday violin classes, for Steven it was the end of peace.
“Oh, stop it! Why do you always call me that dull name?!”
“I just like it, Stew!” Sonia snapped back. “’Cause you are just Stewww… You’re my beloved bro, you know?! … Mom, he wants to hit me!!!” Sonia escaped from the room as Steven stood up from his chair. Living with a younger sister wasn’t easy at all, since she learned to speak. When she started playing the violin, things only got worse.
By a few months Steven got used to the creepy noise of his sister practicing violin. Every time he just sat in front of the mirror and watched his other face slightly vibrating from the sound.
“It feels like the other image was my soul. And by this silly noise it shakes and shivers… What could I do for you, my friend?”
“Just set me free.”
“Yeah, that isn’t as easy as it sounds… As long as there is glass between us there is nothing I can do.”
“Incorrect. The way is just too simple for you to understand.”
“I just don’t see any way to pass through a mirror.”
“It doesn’t come to you… Then come to me.”
“You want me to… Wait!!! Am I really speaking with my reflection??”
The violin went silent. The angry voice of his sister ran upstairs along with her careless steps. The door flew open and sooner than she could stop they both lied on the carpet.
“Hey, watch your steps, sis!” “Dummy, sitting on the ground right in the way! What are you doing, huh?!” “What’s up? Haven’t succeeded with your violin solo?” In a moment they started to fight.
Punches, kicks and slaps continued until their father came up to close their battle. And of course such behavior needed some explanation.
“Steven, why on earth did you hit your sister?” “But she… ah, never mind.” “Are you going to tell me?” his father stood in their room as many times before. But this time Steven didn’t want to make up any stories of what and why happened. They always backfired on him, anyway.
“If you haven’t got it yet, there’s no point.” he said instead.
“What are you talking about, Steven?!” Steven remained quiet, sitting at his desk and playing with a pen. This conversation was over - only dad didn’t get that yet. “Steven! I am talking to you!”
Sonia watched his brother. His defense was just to stare into nowhere and wait until his father runs out of patience and leaves the room. Then he will realize something is wrong and start making it right. Just like he should long ago. Yes…!
Steven smiled at her sister. “I don’t understand you, bro.” she whispered and turned away, fairly scared. “You don’t understand many things, Sonia.” he thought, “But soon you will.”

On Wednesday the “Harshmania” grew over the peak. Steven felt like swimming in a pitch tank when he passed the school corridors. Seven eighths of the school were wearing HarshHallows shirts and the others were desperately looking for some. Many people suddenly turned into black-haired creatures with muffled language and bad behavior.
In a few hours the main phrase fixed in all “Marsh” groups was: “You really look like the bad guy!” Steven heard Sonia call it so many times as if she forgot all the other words of human language. After leaving the dining hall he was a bit glad he isn’t going to the concert.

After coming home from his art classes he took a glance into the mirror.
It stood there just because there was no space for it in Sonia’s room. So he had a mirror and it gave his sister a reason to enter his room anytime she wanted. Getting used to all the suffering really changes one’s face…
“You really look like the bad guy!” he said to himself raking up his long hair. “Maybe you really are the bad guy!” His reflection grinned at him.
“I don’t think so.” “Well, I do think so! After all, you made you father think over many things.”
“I’m glad you appreciate that. But it is no use, anyway. I mean, it is a vicious circle. If I could just get off…”
“In fact, it is up to you. But be careful about what you wish!”
Steven turned away from the mirror, leaving his weird reflection to talking to itself. Is it possible he could change his life on his own?
“Ah! There’s no way it is happening! I’m just making up some character I can talk to and I’m definitely going crazy!!!” Steven dropped into his chair grabbing his forehead. By that moment Sonia punched into the room, yelling: “They’re so amazing! So famous! So poetic! So handsome! So…” “…whatever.” Steven watched his sister with a stone face. However he tried to hide it, the disgusted expression soaked out upon his face. “You are just jealous of them, that’s it!”
A while later Steven noticed she got the complete outfit, including a skirt, striped socks, gloves and a necklace, everything in black and a bit of white. “I look much better in these, don’t you think?” she squealed, turning around in the front of the mirror.
“I do think. You’re one who doesn’t.” Steven grunted to himself. “I wouldn’t even take her ticket,” he thought, “if she just disappeared.”
“What a mess you have here!” Sonia took off her gloves to wipe out a speck from the mirror.
In the moment her finger touched the glass, a flash of light hit the room and Steven found himself blinded for a few seconds.
When the shapes of things took their places, Sonia was gone. Steven jumped to the mirror. “What happened?!”
“It was so easy after all, wasn’t it?” his reflection had a grin that was not his own and his fear grew by every heartbeat. “I need to thank you Steven. A trust like yours is not seen every day… “
“A trust??”
“Yes Steven, your trust that nothing will run as you want. Your pessimism… It is rare. I told you to care about your wishes…and as I wished, you did not.”
Suddenly the other Steven gave a terrible laugh and left the mirror.
“I need to thank you, Steven. For setting me free.”

The End

Jars of Victory - the Forgotten Legend

Arabian legends of the great war of nomads. Successful entry to Jars of Clay competition.

There have been treasures to hunt in every age of the history. Some of them became unbelievable stories of desire and courage. The others remained hidden and have been forgotten.
Many years ago in the old Arabia there was a legend. It said about an ancient culture worshipping snakes. They were nomadic hermits, traveling across the desert and spreading fear and death in the villages under their flags of snakes.
Every day villagers worried that they would come to their villages, stealing food, jewels and lives. No man was brave enough to face them, no guards returned from journeys of explorations. Wealthy village chiefs tried to get on well with the nomads by valuable gifts and sacrifices. But this just brought nomads more power and more fear to spread. Nomad chiefs used to call themselves lords and lived in wealth.
Most villagers turned hopeless and decided to have nothing rather than to worry about what they have. They accepted nomad lords to rule their lives. Many of them became slaves, lost everything or both at once. The others ran away to rocks to hide. It was a great move.
Rijad and Kahud were just small boys, when their family left the village. They walked for three days and three nights to the shelter of rocks. The next day their village was burnt down.
The two boys had father who taught them everything. When other children went to play, they ran down to the river and learned how to catch fish. When little boys began to look after sheep, Rijad was training with the bow and Kahud hunted rabbits with a pike. Their father made warriors of them, because of days that were just coming.
One evening Rijad went with the father. “Remember this! See them, but don’t let them see you!” told father to Rijad. He went to the rocks and wanted Rijad to find him. But Rijad never saw his father anymore.
The days went worse and worse. Many men disappeared without a trace. The two brothers had no one to learn from, so they learned from each other. They fought with sticks and went hunting together. They ran up and down in the rocks and grew stronger.
And the world outside the rock shelters changed. Villages joined to three fellowships. Each fellowship built a fort that was big enough for all the villagers to live in and strong enough to keep their fears away.
Nomadic attacks stopped during the days and merchants traveled in peace. But during the night roads were never safe. Nobody could see them. People just kept dying, one by one. Every night nomads sneaked into the forts and continued frightening people by silent murders and nasty thefts. To stop them, the fellowships began to build armies.
Kahud put out the guard fire and hided behind a rock. He heard the noise of horses coming. When they came closer, Kahud reached for his knife. He had been seeing this day in his nightmares for years. He jumped from behind the rock with no sound and threw his knife.
Then he opened his mouth in a scream of fear. His own father fell to the ground with the knife in his chest.
“I hoped it will be you.” father sighed and closed his eyes forever. Later the other horsemen told Kahud the news. They went to talk to Rijad and decide what to do. Kahud wanted their whole family to move to the fort, but Rijad refused. “The roads are not safe now. If it is like they say, we won’t have better chance to survive within the walls of a fort.” he said. Now the two brothers led the family and had to take decisions for all of them. Before they divided, they put their hand together. “For father.” So Kahud went with the horsemen, Rijad stayed in the rocks with the family.
Every fellowship built its own army. Kahud joined the Easter army. By his abilities and power he was put into first line to lead warriors into the great battle. Three armies from the forts met on the plain of nomads, where nomads lived and hoped to be never found.
Nomads never agreed to surrender. They raised their flags with snakes and went against the great army of three fellowships. Many warriors were killed during the long days of fight, but nomads still resisted. Their warriors were quick, powerful and had no mercy. They fought for long years not to end during a few days.
The three armies together turned the nomads to run. They all turned and ran towards the rocks, where Kahud’s family had their hidden village.
Kahud took the fastest horsemen and rushed to stop nomads from entering the rock shelters. Once nomads forced his people to hide, now it all turned against them. People of forts liked it, but Kahud did not. The nomads ran for their lives and neither the fast horses nor the sharp swords were enough to stop them. Kahud fell trying to stop running nomads with a few horsemen and his brother, Rijad, was killed defending his hidden village.
Later, all the nomads were caught and punished. The menace of snakes was over. Forever, people hoped and believed.
As a sign of victory, there were three jars of clay and a snake in each of them. The Northern fellowship buried the snake in silver, for the moon guarding the horizon every night. The Western fellowship buried it in gold, for the sun bringing new days of freedom and the Eastern fellowship buried its snake in amber, for the wind bringing rain to the villagers of three forts.
The legend says that one of the snakes survived and is still waiting for the new nomad lord. But the jars lie deep under the three forts, which became great Arabian cities - Tehran, Baghdad and Shiraz.

Muffliato - the curse of silence

imagine living a world with no sound, no music and no spoken words. this is my entry and winning piece of Shakespeare's Memorial 2008. Enjoy :D


At Salmon Square it's the year’s last evening. It’s nearly midnight. Few friends ran out to add their own light to the show of this night.
-Hurry up, Nick!– the oldest ran to the middle with the box under his arm.
- It’s going to be a nice blow, guys! – He shouted back.
-Two minutes, Nick! – someone watched the time…
– Joy! Matches!! – Nick called.
-Now!! – Everyone stepped back, waiting until the fuse reaches its end. High above the sky flashed to all colors. First shots puffed and fell to the ground. But in the sky there was really amazing show to watch. Boys stood in the corner of the square. Everyone was frozen and amazed, staring in to the sky that turned into a shower of fire. One explosion followed another. The limb-shaking sounds and children’s laughter filled the air. But then another shot flew up and our box fell over.
Boys shouted and jumped aside. But one of them didn’t notice the last shot. He just stood at the spot; eyes wide open for the shower of stars that filled the sky.
Amazing light turned into darkness and the explosion died in silence.
-Alex…Alex!!
That name threw him off his sleep. The shout faded away, but he couldn’t get rid of the whispering noise that came with his name. Alex...
It wasn‘t the first time, actually. He‘s been hearing them shouting since that night. In his dreams he was falling to the silence again and again. Many days sounds avoided him. Words were no use to him. Music had no rhythm and no melody for him.
Alex’s dad - Kevin Peterson - worked at the airport. He often took him there to help him spend the difficult days. Alex stood against the huge windows of airport hall. With his fingertips on the glass he listened to the sounds he could not hear.
One day Alex was pushing him palm to the glass on the ground floor and staring out sadly. Steps and voices of people passed his fingers and useless ears. Alex closed his eyes and listened so careful... He believed he can hear.
Then someone knocked on the glass from outside. He nearly jumped away, but then he just opened his eyes. A girl smiled at him from behind the glass. Then she put her hand against Alex’s. He slowly smiled as the glass got warmer. –You’re so nice...- he said, but no voice came out. He was locked in the silence. - No matter. It is enough for her to see my lips move...- he thought to himself. But then the girl grabbed his bag and left without a glance back.
- Hi! – the waitress looked at Alex sitting in the empty airport bar, head resting on his hands. Alex just watched her lips talking. - Would you like something to drink? – the waitress asked. Alex wondered...he desired to know how her voice sounds. But he couldn’t even remember his own.
– I’m sorry. – he tried to say. Waitress laughed.
- Am I speaking too loud? Do I really speak? – Alex asked himself. – I’d like much to talk with you. But I can’t hear anything. – he said. Waitress sat next to him.
- Oh, you’re the Peterson’s boy...Alex! – she said. Alex’s head filled with the whispering noise of his name.
- Oh, so what? – he snapped back, fixing his eyes into the window. When he wasn’t watching, he wasn’t listening.
He didn’t hear the words that waitress told him. - I heard what happened to you. I want to help you. –
-Because I’m sure you hear! – Alex backed away from the waitress whispering loudly in his ear. The sudden breath shocked him and even when he wasn‘t watching, he heard.
With a whispering noise in his head he ran upstairs, punched in his father’s office and sat on the chair. Dad was somewhere as he always was. Alex wanted to wait for him to go home. He imagined the face of his father, angry with the word he always said first: - Listen...
- Enough of listening! I can’t listen!! – he shouted and walked up and down the room. The door opened, but that was only dad’s assistants. She glanced at Alex and then she started explaining something. She wasn’t speaking properly, but moving her hands quickly. The language of deaf...
- No!! I’m not so dependent on hands! – Alex shouted at her. He dropped into the chair and covered his face with hands. He left the airport alone. He hoped to escape the silence. It began to rain, but she walked the lane home.
Alex refused to learn the sign language. He believed silence will end and he will hear properly again. After escaping the airport he sat on a bench on the square. Salmon Square. He felt raindrops drumming on his back with no sound. He closed his eyes and shook with cold. He could only imagine the whisper of the rain. Tired of watching circles in the water in the silent square, he fell asleep.
Luckily his dad came after him quickly. A few days later, when Alex got better, they sat together.
- It is difficult for all of us. – father told him slowly, opening his mouth wide and moving his arms to make Alex understand. Alex just nodded. – Please... – father said, but then he went silent. He doesn’t know how to show Alex the words. So he just took a pencil and wrote them:
Don’t lose your faith. You still have hope.
Alex read them and looked at his father.
- No, dad. Not a bit! – he sighed.
- Sure you have, Alex! It will be better! It will be good! – his father cried, still moving his hands and showing.
- Then why you have to show me what are you saying?! Why are you speaking so slowly?! You speak to me even when I am deaf! Why, if I got hope?! – Alex shouted screamed at his father with no control of his voice. Then he left to his room until the next day.
- Alex! – he heard his name again. With a flash of green he glanced down. In the opposite corner of the square a girl screamed with fear. The whispering noise flew towards him and then the air around him filled with fire.
Alex woke up. His dad was standing near his bed and shaking him to life. – Alex, are you alright? -
- Leave it, I’m okay... – Alex said turning his face down, but father turned him back. – Do you want to go to work with me today? – father asked. He used his hands... like everyday since the accident. Alex refused and stayed home.
His mother – Alice - came in the afternoon. They played together, when father was away. Alice turned on the radio and put it on the table so Alex could feel the music.
- I like this one. – he laughed with a loud rock song. Then Alice took a piece of paper and they wrote notes to each other. It was much easier than trying to speak.
- Why didn’t father take you to work? – mum asked.
- I didn’t want to come with him. I don’t want to go with him anymore. It’s no use. – Alex wrote back. Alice wanted to know more. But then Kevin came.
- Hello, everyone! Hi, Alex! – he called, but no one answered. He came to the kitchen where Alice and Alex were sitting with a piece of paper. Alice took the pencil and wrote:
JOIN THE GAME
- Oh...Alice! I have no time for... – Kevin didn’t want to fall into silence with them. But Alice underlined the words. Kevin sat down and Alice passed the paper to him.
- Okay then... – he sighed, but Alice pushed her finger to her lips. Rules had to be kept. So Kevin took the pencil and wrote: Guess what, Alex...Samantha was asking for you. Then he passed it to Alex.
- Who is Samantha? – asked Alex.
- The waitress’s daughter. I thought you know each other. – wrote Kevin. Alex thought about the girl on the other side of the window. – She wanted to talk with you. –
- But does she know that I... that I can’t hear anything? – asked Alex.
- Yes, she knows. – Alex left his mouth open. Both his parents smiled at him in silence. He never thought it could be so nice.
The next time Alex came to the airport he met her. She was standing with her hand against the window as he did many times before.
- Samantha? – he said while coming to her. She turned to him and smiled. – Hi, Alex. – she said. Like every time, he heard the whispering noise of his name... but this time it was different. It was fine and gentle.
- Call me just Sam. – she said. With no hands, just with the look and slight nod of her head. And he understood. She kept her hand on the window and asked:
- What do you hear like this? –
Alex put his hand next to her.
- I hear planes. People. But... I just feel them. – he answered. They sat in the hall. Sam spoke and Alex watched her lips. She talked about her mother, her home, her school, her dog...and Alex listened. She didn’t use her hands even once. She told him everything with her lips and eyes, small nods and movements.
They were meeting in the airport hall nearly every day, talking. When she ended, he started. She listened to him. When he spoke too loud, she covered one of her ears. When he spoke too quiet, she leaned closer so he always knew how to talk.
They sat in the bar, playing with spoons, glasses and bottles of water, making something they could call music. Sometimes they made such huge noise that Sam’s mother told them to go away. Then they took a walk to the park. Alex was talking with Sam, remembering the sounds he used to hear and imaginating those he did not. Day after day Samantha added more and more sounds to his silent world.
- Airport security warning: Please do not leave any luggage unattended! Tink!! – she called with the voice of airport broadcast. Alex imagined how her voice sounds and laughed at the face she made.
- Pity you haven’t been to the airport before... – she said but then her smile vanished. She took his hand and looked at him. – I was there that night, Alex. I saw you. It was horrible. I’m so sorry. – she said and hugged him.
- No matter. – said Alex. – Now I can hear everything. –

Tail of the huge Fox

rozprávka o záhadnej sile prírody a líške, ktorá všetko zmenila...
Once upon a time deep in a great forest there was a cottage where a man called Mike lived. Mike was a lumberjack and spent whole his days in the wood. He always chose the tree to cut carefully. He chose big trees to get much wood.
One day he found a huge tree reaching up to the sky. He lifted his axe and began to cut, when he saw something run in the forest close to him. He looked over his shoulder and saw the thing again. It looked like a tail of fox running, but it was huge. Mike returned to the pile of wood he had gathered, forgetting about the huge tree he found.
Next day he went to the town to sell his wood. He went to meet his friend. He also met Steve the hunter. “You won believe what I’ve seen up in the wood, Steve.” He said, “I met a fox. It was huge. It had a tail of five feet!” Steve really didn’t believe him. When Mike asked him to lend him his gun, Steve refused. “You won’t shoot a beast that’s not there.” But Mike still couldn’t let him go. “Then come with me and see it yourself.”
So the two men came to the wood. Steve was holding his gun. He was looking at Mike with his face frown. They went to the huge tree. “Quiet.” whispered Mike.
They were waiting until evening, but the huge fox didn’t appear. Steve laughed sharply. “You see? It was just your imagination.” Before Steve returned to the town, he turned to Mike to give him advice. “Return to trees.”
So when the sun rose again, Mike grabbed his axe and went to the wood. Again he found the tallest tree and began to cut it down. In a moment the tail of the fox again flew across his eyesight. It was amazingly quick. Mike remembered Steve’s words. “It was just your imagination.” However, he turner his head and saw the fox.
The huge fox stared at Mike with great and somehow clever green eyes. It seemed to Mike like if it was as tall as he himself. He slowly moved towards the fox. It jumped and ran a few yards away. There it sat down again and stared at him. He continued to follow the fox and the fox continued to run away. Again and again it sat down and fixed its eyes on Mike until it ran away and disappeared in the dark forest. Then Mike turned around to see where he was. He stood just a few yards from his cottage. The sun was setting and evening came. If Mike stayed at the huge tree, he wouldn’t find his way back. Mike looked the way the fox had run away. “Thank you.”
That night he had a dream. He had a vision of the fox running through the forest. Then he saw a man lifting his gun. Mike heard the shot. The fox fell to the ground. “No!” cried Mike and he woke up.
Next week he went to the town with wood. He met Steve the hunter. “Mike, you we’re true!” he shouted happily. “I’ve got it! I’ve shot the huge fox!”
Since that day great storms began to come every day. The ground turned into mud and the river went wild. No one could go into the forest anymore. Steve didn’t hunted single animal. Mike stayed in the hills ever after. Every morning he went to the tallest tree, but with no axe in his hand. And beside him walked a huge fox.
The end