Acrophobia Berzerk Games

farewell

snowflakes fluttered gently curved dense as a silk scarf in gentle waves on the balcony on the 5th Floor of a skyscraper over. It was dusk. In the twilight of the street lamps and the leaden sky buzzing with cars were spinning tires on a green traffic light-switching.
Margaret looked out on the Stieben of flakes and down to the park and they had maintained for a long time as a teacher.
past - for decades.
She looked over to the old mill, which still held her frozen, rotten ill-wing in the snow. Every day she had gone there for a walk with her husband and the dog, on endless trails far into the fields.
past - for decades.
Her husband had died, buried her dog for a long time in the former allotments.

The old, very petite woman on the balcony, sighed, stretched her face against the snow Grieseln and stuck out his tongue around like a little kid a few of the flakes to melt it. Resolutely shook them with aged, gout crippled hands a few drops from her cheerful gray-streaked pony and looked down vote on the doings of the hastily hurrying home people. Who had used quickly on to the last hours before the shops are open for Christmas Eve.
Margaret went back inside, through which the cooled living room, down the hall to the kitchen. Due to the wide-open balcony door, took a cold breath of snow and moisture.
The radio-controlled thermometer showed an outside temperature of eight degrees below zero.
"Exactly right," she murmured, "so I thought of this day "
a worn Rattantablett pushed to the dining room table and began to populate: Favorite photos of her two children - long since grown up living with their families in the surrounding countryside - and a picture of her husband on. he was seen with the dog on an autumn walk. From her second-hand with memorabilia, gift wrap, shopping bags and never read books crammed hall closet she pulled out a bottle of good vintage red wine and put them together to a heavy overlay Romans.
tapsend uncertainty, with small, mincing steps, she went to the bathroom. There, hanging on a bracket on a towel bar by her lovingly chosen for this happy day clothes. She pulled out slowly, took a shower very warm and massaged her old, withered skin fold with a wonderfully fragrant after arnica oil. Then she slipped into a brightly flowered summer dress, the long gray hair twisted into a braid and put it with a pearl brooch set carefully at the back. Now, even the eyebrows tightened a little shaky, a little pale red lipstick - that's it. Checking it looked in the hall mirror, turned and looked over her shoulder. She liked what she saw there. The dress in which she was nearly sixty years before her husband first met fit, always yet. A little too far around the hips, not the fashion in accordance with, far too short, but she still loved.
Outside, the bells began the first afternoon Christmas service to ring. Margaret went back to the kitchen and looked out the window at the white-dusted roofs. Softly she hummed to herself. Happily screaming children romped down through the freshly fallen snow of the church. Adults walked slowly behind. It had stopped to browse, gently for a few days, large flakes floated to the ground. The extent to which their own children at that time had always got the first snow ...
The little woman on the collected the windowsill hoarded sleeping pills and tranquilizers, and put together the blister packs into a pocket of the dress. Thoughtfully, she walked through each room. She looked around carefully.
"The plants are fed," she thought. "My laundry is washed, the beds made and the rubbish I've also worn down," she thought. "My apartment is appointed. Or have I forgotten something? "

long time they remained in the living room before they scratched dresser, looked at the old, faded, and looked wistfully the couples lined up debut Shoes their children. One last time they blew Staubflusen of the wood.
Margaret turned on the stereo. They appealed their favorite CD, "A Midsummer Night's Dream" by Mendelssohn-Bartholdy and loaded the wireless headphones a bit awkward on the still damp, freshly coiffed hair. Then they stumbled, the tablet reasonably certain balancing, on the balcony. There they sat there on the off with greenery decorated table.
The first glass of wine she drank standing sip to sip, alternating with some tranquilizers.

It was now completely dark. Peaceful silence lay over the city. Only here and there a quiet and muffled engine noise came through the frozen snow. Margaret pocketed the electric lights. Colorful mini-stars shone now the small, with exposed aggregate concrete clad loggia. Solemnly reflected the powdered white pine green, the sparkling rays.
the numeric bar sleeping pills she took another glass of wine. Carefully, a bit dazed and weak, the old lady sat on a freezing cold of teak chairs. The photo of her late husband slipped from her stiff fingers. No matter ...
The memory of her husband and children she kept deep in their souls. Why not look at pictures? With blurred view of watched it on the number of the watch.
"Not much time left, not much time, my dear. You wait it already! Coming soon ... equal ... "murmured Margaret.
Before she drained the last bit out of the glass, pulled from the thick wool socks and put his bare feet on the unused for a long time second balcony seat. With a deep sip of wine straight from the bottle, they washed down some pills for seasickness. It would help emerging and nausea, to facilitate the journey to the afterlife.

Margaret had thought of everything.

Warming alcohol spread out effortlessly in her stomach, wrapped them reached their thoughts. Gently removed and relaxed smile at the old woman to the rising moon . It would soon be a new moon.
Ecstatic they heard the last sound sequences to the music, smiling, his eyes closed, folded her little, withered hands over the airy cotton dress and dreamless sleep over in the starry, frosty night.
The colorful lights swayed gently in the wind howled in the distance far from a lonely dog.

© Elke Kemna

Korean Free Movie Online

Hannahs Forum

Gluggernd, disappeared with a sucking sound of the last traces of water in the bathtub drain rosmarinparfümierten. Small foam bubbles burst by the pressure.

Hannah was in a hurry. As soon as she took time to wrap the Überwärmungsbad schwitznassen hoary hair with a faded terry cloth and rake in the long to short becoming bathrobe over her plump old body.
She shuffled to the bathing shriveled feet over shabby floor across the hall into the living room. At last she felt refreshed, his head was clear again, stubborn cold and almost unbearable pressure in the temple area had eased.

The low November sun dazzled by bright opaque dirty windows on a gray, tattered sofa, two chairs with worn-out old jaw pads and a beautiful hand-crafted teak table with dusty glass. He was with books, newspapers, brochures and hand-written Labels loaded.
Only a red-brown stained walnut display case stood out from the angeschmuddelten chaos. Beautiful wine red overlay Romans, small liqueur glasses and delicate hand-blown champagne flutes sparkled in the sunlight - clearly laid out and trimmed with love.

Opposite, on the front side of the room there was a special feature: Hannah's desk, a small plywood furniture with a rotating roller-adjustable office chair, warming covered with matted sheepskin. No speck of dust, no pen, no paper or other utensils, which are normally located on a desk, was seen. Only a notebook. Opened joined the colorful screen images to himself. The device was Hannah's lifeblood, its raison d'etre, suggestion box and friend Always on, always online. Even at night turned on for the long-awaited "You've got mail" could follow from dream and sleep out.

The old woman heaved her heavy body to the well-worn chair and tapped the touchpad. The screen saver switched to a yellow-covered menu with many view: Hannah's forum! There she was for three years now almost always Member-present. fall by chance on the page, they had signed up as one of the first there and register. founder and administrator of the forum was another old, with unknown woman. Over the years, was the "life-Forum" on nearly fifty grown members. The community grew together. They exchanged ideas, had advice and tips for each other, wrote to each other important passages from interesting books, quotes pushed important a human, life and faith to answer questions and consoled each other with blows of fate ...
Hannah's former isolation, without friends and relatives who have long since dead or in nursing homes vegetating in front of him, was finally over, and heavy red bleak Christmas, boring gatherings and desolate walks forgotten. The "life-Forum" was her new home, Hannah's colorful virtual world!

Forum members rebuilt their broken, lonely figure on gradually. She answered it with increasingly assertive advice and samples of their literary skills. By the time she was the center of the platform: set your Poems have been praised, everyone wanted to know from her comments on his works and improved and public holidays they had an early morning mail in their virtual forum mailbox. Every day, they got sent greetings and small attentive lines. Unknown people, usually one or two generations younger than the Vierundachzigjährige, wrote in posts, what a prominent place was Hannah's commitment and how much help they could give.

Hannah's life was happy.

The hated, just the physical fitness serving tours, window shopping, Visits to the senior center to the same old Samaritan's afternoon tea, for a few years ago beloved zoo visits - was no longer all that important. She quickly completed their purchases of the morning and rarely could bring himself to suck dust, to wipe or clean the bathroom. There was now "meals on wheels" and other finished products. For weeks, they used the same cup, covered with the dried leftovers dish. But they now spent day and night every free minute, interrupted only by short wild dreaming sleep breaks, dressed in an old bathrobe in front of her notebook, in "their" forum. Only the midday hot bath was another landmark in their lives. Then she felt alive, fresh and alive, to return until late into the night with unknown-familiar people chatting.

still doing so today. You scrolled down the heading up again. Incredulously. No one had written anything new. No answer to her yesterday on "Winter dance. Hannah was shocked and surprised.
Was their online Anschlus their line to world disturbed?
No! The flashing colorful advertising blocks were so active!
Then she noticed the blinking mailbox icon. It glowed red. Post for her! Lucky you! With trembling hand, she clicked on the virtual envelope and a short, thick in blue letters written communication opened:

"Lady Hannah!
I'm sorry to inform you that my mother last night succumbed to a stroke. This morning I checked her inbox, scans the computer and browse the basis of her notes and passwords for clues to your friends. Here I discovered the following: In recent years, since she was confined after their first stroke in a wheelchair, my mother has built up the food forum. There she is with different Nick name logged and posted on behalf of several persons. As I said, you are, dear wife Hannah, the only real member who was present except my mother there.

I will now delete this forum and hope that you find in the vast network of new contacts, rather than go to a composite of many individual mosaic tiles on the glue.

With consideration is the best!

your Liselotte K. "

twilight swallowed the light in the living room. It was late afternoon. Hour after hour had Hannah sat blankly in front of a picture-changing laptop.

Finally she got up from his chair, closed the computer and pulled the plug. Long sitting she had cooled down. Laboriously shuffling, clamped the device under his arm, she walked down the hall to the bathroom and had hot running water in the tub.

you plugged the device to the outlet, it turns on, and went with him into the fragrant sea foam.

appeared common among them.

past ...

newspaper notice dated 3 January 1998:
Yesterday morning was recovered under difficult circumstances, the body of the 84-year-old Hannah P. Gevenbrück from the district.
As the old lady, despite repeated written requests each proposed appointment the heating-Able Sers had ignored, including the caretaker of the GDV-estate opened the apartment door with a skeleton and made a grisly discovery. He found the corpse of the old woman with a laptop in the bathtub.
engaged the criminal investigation is believed that Hannah P. the device slipped into the tub out of the hands under water and caused an electric shock.

The death is estimated to be mid to late November, third party negligence does it. was also a suicide did not seem to be intended, that there were no suicide note in the apartment.

© Elke Kemna
Published in " thought art " - Volume 2 - art of mind
Publisher:
Art of Arts, Forchcheim, ISBN 3-9810547-6-8