Postovi
Tad Williams
OGLAS: tražim srpske
filmove, dvd, divx, whatever. Posebno: Lepa sela lepo gore, Bure baruta i
Maršal. Ako ima ko, nek se javi.
Kad sam bila mala
cesto sam gubila gumice. I olovke... uu da, i kišobrane. Jel postoji neko kome
kišobran nikad nije ostao u školi? Sad kako odrastam, počinjem gubit važnije
stvari. 50kn, živce i ljude. 50 kn sam izgubila neki dan. Ne mogu reći bas da
sam ih izgubila... nisu imale di ispast ... ni otići... ali, nema ih. Moguće da
ću ih iskopat kad krenem sređivat sobu. Živce gubim nešto češće. Jes da sam
totalna flegma, al neki ljudi baš znaju kako izazivat. Nekad čak i samim
postojanjem. No, to sve manje-više. Trenutno me najviše brine ona treća stvar
koju gubim. Ljudi. Ali nisam jedina kojoj se to dešava. Jednom sam čak uspila
spriječit da jedan čovjek izgubi jednu ženu. Mada nisam nimalo sigurna da je to
zaslužio. Enivej... dužiš se s nekim, stvari se dešavaju... jedno jutro se
probudiš i te osobe više nema. Mene su isto neki ljudi izgubili. Tako da znam
da kad nekog izgubiš on ne završi pod hrpom robe na krevetu... ni u nekom
prašnom kutku sobe. On samo nastavi postojat bez tebe. Mislim... gumica koju si
izgubio neće sama nastavit brisat... ni novac koji si izgubio neće se sam zamijenit
za nešto... osim eventualno za pljesan ako ga izgubiš na vlažnom mjestu. Ljudi...
nastave živit. Prvi put sam tako jednostavno izgubila osobu još u osnovnoj. Čudnovata
cura iz razreda, s kojom sam se družila u sklopu svoje kampanje «budi prijatelj
onima koji prijatelja nemaju», jedan dan je samo nestala. Iz škole, iz grada,
iz države. Malo tko je uopće pitao za nju, a i onda se samo znalo da se
izgubila. Nitko više nije čuo za nju. Ja se danas sjetim samo kad opet krenem u
tu kampanju. Pa odustanem. Ako neko nema prijatelja vjerojatno postoji razlog
zašto ga nema. Ma eto, samo mi je palo na pamet jutros. Nego, sad na bitnije
stvari.
- City of Golden Shadow
- River of Blue Fire
- Mountain of Black Glass
- Sea of Silver Light
Yeah, sav je u
bojama. Enivej, isječak... na Engleskom, naravno, da vidite kako čovik piše...
mada, čitala sam da se kroz knjige vidi kako mu se razvija i kvaliteta pisanja.
City of Golden
CHAPTER 1
Mister Jingo's Smile
One of the other instructors pushed open the cubicle door and
leaned in. The noise of the corridor swept in with him, louder than usual.
"Bomb threat."
"Again?" Renie set her pad down on the desk and picked up
her bag. Remembering how many things had gone missing during the last scare,
she retrieved the pad before walking into the hallway. The man who had told
her—she could never remember his name, Yono Something-or-other—was several
paces ahead, vanishing into the river of students and instructors moving
leisurely toward the exits. She hurried to catch him.
"Every two weeks," she said. "Once a day during exams. It
makes me crazy."
He smiled. He had thick glasses but nice teeth. "At least we will get
some fresh air."
Within minutes the wide street in front of Durban Area Four Polytechnic had
become a sort of impromptu carnival, full of laughing students glad to be out
of class. One group of young men had tied their coats around their waists like
skirts and were dancing atop a parked car, ignoring an older teacher's
increasingly shrill orders to cease and desist.
Renie watched them with mixed feelings. She, too, could feel the lure of
freedom, just as she felt the warm African sun on her arms and neck, but she
also knew that she was three days behind grading term projects; if the bomb
scare went on too long, she would miss a tutorial that would have to be
rescheduled, eating up more of her rapidly dwindling spare time.
Yono, or whatever his name was, grinned at the dancing students. Renie felt
a surge of annoyance at his irresponsible enjoyment. "If they want to miss
class," she said, "why the hell don't they just skip out? Why play a
prank like this and make the rest of us—"
A flash of brilliant light turned the sky white. Renie was knocked to the
ground by a brief hurricane of hot, dry air as a tremendous clap of sound
shattered glass all along the school facade and shivered the windows of dozens
of parked cars. She covered her head with her arms, but there was no debris,
only the sound of people screaming. When she struggled to her feet, she could
see no sign of injuries on the students milling around her, but a cloud of
black smoke was boiling above what must be the
Her colleague clambered to his feet beside her, his dark skin now almost
gray. "A real one this time. God, I hope they got everyone out. They
probably did—Admin always clears first so they can monitor the
evacuation." He was speaking so rapidly she could hardly understand him.
"Who do you think it was?"
Renie shook her head. "Broderbund? Zulu Mamba? Who knows? God damn it,
that's the third in two years. How can they do it? Why won't they let us
work?"
Her companion's look of alarm deepened. "My car! It's in the Admin
lot!" He turned and ran toward the explosion site, pushing his way through
lost-looking students, some of whom were crying, none of whom seemed in any
mood for laughing or dancing now. A security guard who was trying to cordon off
the area shouted at him as he ran past
"His car? Idiot" Renie felt like crying herself. There was
a distant ululation of sirens. She took a cigarette out of her bag and pulled
the flame-tab with trembling fingers. They were supposed to be noncarcinogenic,
but right at the moment she didn't care. A piece of paper fluttered down and
landed at her feet, blackened along its edges.
Already, the camera-drones were descending from the sky like a swarm of
flies, sucking up footage for the net.
She was on her second cigarette and feeling a little steadier when someone
tapped her shoulder.
"Ms. Sulaweyo?"
She turned and found herself confronting a slender boy with yellow-brown
skin. His short hair curled close to his head. He wore a necktie, something
Renie had not seen in a few years.
"Yes?"
"I believe we had an appointment. A tutorial?"
She stared. The top of his head barely reached her shoulder. "You
. . . you're. . . ?"
"
Light suddenly dawned. "Ah! You're. . . . "
He smiled, a swift crease of white. "One of the San people—what they
sometimes call 'Bushman,' yes."
"I didn't mean to be rude."
"You were not There are few of us left who have the pure blood, the old
look. Most have married into the city-world. Or died in the bush, unable to
live in these times."
She liked his grin and his quick, careful speech. "But you have done
neither."
"No, I have not. I am a university student" He said it with some
pride, but a hint of self-mockery as well. He turned to look at the drifting
plume of smoke. "If there will be a university left."
She shook her head and suppressed a shudder. The sky, stained with drifting
ash, had gone twilight-gray. "It's so terrible."
"Terrible indeed. But fortunately no one seems badly hurt"
"Well, I'm sorry our tutorial was prevented," she said, recovering
a little bit of her professional edge. "I suppose we should reschedule—let
me get out my pad."
"Must we reschedule?"
Renie hesitated. Should she just leave the campus? What if her department head
or someone needed her? She looked around at the street and the main steps,
which were beginning to resemble a combination refugee center and free
festival, and shrugged. Nothing useful would be done here today.
"Let's go find a beer, then."
Objavio Rea u 12. ožujak 2005 14:31:00
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