|
agonia.net
texts
comments
members
workshop
classics
chat
photo
Literary TopSites
links
links
 Recommended reading
· Wall and Neutrino
· a distance there is
· Longing
· Sonnet 8
· Thomas Stearns Eliot
· radiOde
· indigo
· Thomas Stearns Eliot’s “The Waste Land”
· Through the precious rain
· Join Agonia.net, our Literature and Culture group on LinkedIn
Most recent
Text type :
Article
Communities
Contest
Essay
Personals
Poetry
Press
Prose
Screenplay
Special
Literary Techniques
Translation
Despre Boierism: manifest si razie
Romanian Spelling Checker
Oglinda Literara
Recrutare si Resurse Umane
poezii si scriitori
proza romaneasca, eseuri, literatura si cultura
Literary TopSites
noută₫i IT, jocuri, internet
Romanian Trends
Boierismul: manifest literar

Round Table
[Agonia forum]
Post of the week
Vox Populi
|
|
Most recent
And Silently The Day Went By (prose)
Starting Again (prose)
Most recent
|
|
Interactive stories
The text in this area is created by several members of the website that alternativelz contribute to the composition.
And silently the day went by (PROSE) Author: Radu Herinean
He felt he woke up like he was never asleep. It felt like his eyes were already open, just that at one point in time the picture came together. So now he was staring at the ceiling. The wind was making his way between the window fittings. Trees outside the window were moved by the storm. "Who am I? what am i doing here?" * In fact his eyes were always open, as a reuslt of the experimental surgery he was a subject too, long ago, in a lige that seemed lost in memorys fog. Too far away? Indeed. And too hard to bear. Consequently he chose other memories... * He closed his eyes again and the ceiling was swelled by the mist that tracked his mind somewhere else. After that he started to think about the blind days when he saw nothing but a gigantic shadow stacked on his eyes and immediately the brain developed an auto-recovery mechanism based on the sensorial proofs he had before. He started the completion with all kind of images, like in a huge puzzle. The information started to flow like from a magic fall without stopping, that’s why his neural connections created an infinite number of possibilities of the lost memories. The body started to tremble, his eyes were moving chaotically and then… * […] He fell down swiftly like a thunder strike. The heart was pumping hardly the blood through his veins and with a rough silent voice he said: “Mother, what happened with my memories?” *
Your access level does not permit acces to this page!
|
|
Feature: Article BooksThomas Stearns Eliot’s “The Waste Land”
 homage essay
 Feature: Article EventsHaiku International Contest

  Feature: Article DialogueA Generation of Aggressive Children

|
|