2 paragraphed book ...
-----It was 2 hours ago, when she called. now she called again, after 2 hours. It was her. She said she was unhappy, she said they treat her badly. I didn't get to ask why. silence was like a shadow over my being. cold and dark. I didn't get to know why. She was unhappy. and my hand too short. and the phone didn't ring again. not here, not there. 'cause my hands are too short.
It was 2 days ago. it was 2 months ago. it was 2.
what is it now?
posted by Rez(A) رضا @ 3/28/2007 12:09:00 AM
2 Comments:
much more than 2:}
its beautiful
one more thing...did i ever tell you that you write like Mircea Cartarescu?Romania's most famous writer in the present..
and it is believed that its most complicated to write postmodern poetry in this style...with such deep meaning.
at a late time,i tried to call you,but the phone died...
it reeked like formol,i opened the microphone
and i found the iron all rusty,full of worms
i searched for the scredriver
and i opened the case
where spiders have made net
the knitten lace,now rotten,with eaten latex and scratced steel
the ants left their smell;grabbed it,pulled it till its nails came out together with its plaster,pulled it till i begun to approach meter by meter my neighbourhood to yours
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