عرض مشاركة واحدة
قديم 02-14-2016, 01:44 PM شمس غير متواجد حالياً   رقم الموضوع : [28]
شمس
عضو بلاتيني
 

شمس is on a distinguished road
افتراضي

هذه بعض المقتطفات ..
واعتذر عن وجود الاخطاء..
يبدو ان الرواية ستتجاوز ال 400 صفحة! وما زالت بعض الاعمال بالانتظار..


---------------------------

"تشجيع مارلين ل الفتى ديفيد الاعمى..لتدريبه على الرسم للمشاركة بالمسابقة!"

“What you are up to, Marlyn?” David asked curiously, hearing the click of the lock.

*“Nothing. You must be a good boy, David, and control your bad habits…otherwise, we will have this fight over and over again. I will not give up.”

*“No, Marlyn, please! Not again.” David protesting, scrambling to his feet.

Marlyn looked around David’s room, searching for a pencil. “Oh dear, where are your pencils?”

*

“You will not find any, because I burned them all,” David said angrily.

“Great, I found one here,” Marlyn smiled, ignoring David’s answer. She spotted a pencil under the table.

*

She stepped over to David, and sat down beside him. “Can you give me your hand, please?” she asked him

David gave her his hand and Marlyn pressed a pencil into his palm. “Please...can you hold this? Please, David, just for a minute. Hold the pencil. Feel it in your hands.”

When David felt the pencil, his voice rose several timbres: *“What? The pencil? NO! NO..I DO NOT WANT TO DRAW!”

*

He stalked away from Marlyn and she followed after him, holding onto his hand strongly. *“LET GO OF MY HAND, MARLYN! I AM NOT GOING TO HOLD A PENCIL EVER AGAIN. LEAVE ME ALONE!”

*

Marlyn refused to listen to him. She kept trying to put the pencil into his hands, and David kept resisting. He tried to walk away from Marlyn, but he tripped and fell onto his bed. Marlyn fell on top of him, trying to force him to hold the pencil.

*

*“I AM NOT GOING TO HOLD THE PENCIL, GET OUT OF HERE!” David writhed underneath Marlyn, desperately trying to escape her grasp.

Then he kneed her in the stomach. *“OUCH!” gasped Marlyn, letting go of him. “You hit me so hard,” she protested, cradling her stomach.

*“I am sorry, sister. But why did you do that to me? Why did you force me to hurt you? Why won’t you leave me alone? David panted.


........"


---------

قبل احداث الجريمة ( مستر كليفورد والتاجر الفرنسي وقضية العقد الثمين! )

*

“Is that you, Mr. Clifford?" asked Mr. Gilbert, smiling as he walked over to Mr. Clifford with a glass of wine in his hands.

*

Mr. Clifford looked at him in surprise. “Are you Gil…bert? Please, sit down. I am glad that you still remember me.”

“Yes, I remember you. So, you’re still losing all the card games? No money…no luck. Ha!”

“Oh, please...do not remind me of my bad luck,” protested Mr. Clifford. “Can you imagine…I have not even a pound in my pocket any more.”

*

Mr. Gilbert burst out laughing. He laughed and laughed until tears sprung from his eyes. All the men in the pub turned to look at him.

*

Mr. Clifford felt ashamed and upset by this man’s obvious enjoyment at his expense. “Yes, funny…I know that…” he grumbled.

“Excuse me...excuse me…” Mr. Gilbert sputtered, struggling to compose himself. Finally, he stopped laughing. After a few minutes, Mr. Gilbert leaned over to Mr. Clifford and whispered in his ears. “What if I could line your pockets with 10,000 pounds?”

*

Mr. Clifford looked at him in astonishment. “Are you jesting with me?” he demanded. “Or am I dreaming?”

"None of the above,” said Mr. Gilbert, flashing him a predatory smile. “Your dream will become a reality…if…you just complete one task for me.”

“I will be your servant, sir,” said Mr. Clifford, his voice trembling with gratitude. “I am ready to kiss your shoes.”

*

“No…no, that will not be necessary…for now,” sneered Mr. Gilbert. “Well, do you see that man sitting there....the one wearing a blue jacket and top hat? With the long mustache and thin, long beard?”

Mr. Clifford looked over. Then he whispered to Mr. Gilbert “Yes, I see him. He does not look like an English man.”

*

The man in question was sitting with 4 other men, having a drink and laughing..

Mr. Gilbert continued whispering. “I want you to find a way to get rid of him..".

*

Mr. Clifford’s widened in utter shock. “WHAT? You want me…to kill him?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Mr. Gilbert dipped his finger in into the red wine in the glass. He circled his finger around the rim, and then brought it to his mouth. He sucked off the wine and replied in a husky tone:

*

“10,000 pounds…What do you say?"

"Bb...but...how? Why?” stammered Mr. Clifford.

*

Mr. Gilbert adjusted his jacket and leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair.

“How? That is your job to figure out….and why? Okay, I will tell you why…” he leaned even closer to Mr. Clifford and said in a low voice:

*

*“That man is originally from France. His name is Monsieur Jolivet… but do not worry, his English is good. He is a very rich dealer…Anyway, once…he bought a very famous and expensive diamond called ‘The Hope Diamond’…they say that the diamond is cursed…that it brings misfortune and bad luck to those in possession of it…of course, I do not believe in any such nonsense. But anyway, after he bought it, his son got sick and died...a short while later, his wife committed suicide by drowning herself in the sea….and now he wants to sell this diamond, thinking that it really does bring back luck. So, your job here... is to find a smart way to get rid of him, and then steal the diamond and *give it to me...I want that diamond.”

*

“That is abominable!” said Mr. Clifford. “But you are a very wealthy man….why don’t you just buy it…instead of….”

*“Shut up!” Mr. Gilbert interrupted.” That is none of your business. Now, do you accept my offer or not?

“Well…I could definitely use the money....I...but...I do not know....”

*

Mr. Gilbert exhaled deeply in irritation. He stood up and took off his hat.

“So, this is your answer. I understand…you are afraid,” Mr. Gilbert put his hat back on his head. “Any way, there are many men out there who dream of such money. I am sure I can find someone else to do this job for me. I better forget about you.”

*

“No…no…please stop." Mr. Clifford grabbed Mr. Gilbert’s arm, “I will do it... Tomorrow night…” he whispered, and Mr. Gilbert flashed a devious smile. Then he nodded and walked off.

-------------


* للعلم اني اقتبست تاريخ العقد الثمين ( حتى اسمه the hope Dimond)..من مجريات تاريخ حقيقية. وخصوصا كان متعارف عليه انه يجلب الشؤم!!

--------------



:: توقيعي ::: "Sacrifice & Satisfaction"
"When we feel satisfied, we are able to sacrifice. And when we sacrifice. .we reach the paradise that we dreamt of..without even feeling that we've made a sacrifice. ."
"N"
  رد مع اقتباس