BookRix

Gruppenfoto aus: http://www.leadion.de/artikel.php?artikel=0877

Deep down in the thicket, zahukala twice owl, and then all quiet again. He was lying face down muddy track, krkljajući, trying to breathe air. His mouth opened like a fish on land and in the lung, nothing is entered, except perhaps, rotting leaves and sodden land, which filled his throat. The last atom of strength he tried to bite through the membrane that prevented him from breathing ... Nothing else he is no longer entered in the head, or a night on a rural trail, no fog on the tops of bushes, or that it is a cold shudder to the bone, nothing, just to breathe once more, once more, and then everything will be fine, and will rise , resets muddy face in his hands, and go straight to the mother that it definitely looked with apprehension but through the window with lace curtains ... Just one more breath, and tomorrow will still laugh, and his brother Lazarus will take him into the woods together love rabbits, hey, my brother, how many are there just has Cvetkovog grove above, and Lazarus had promised him, no matter just to breathe through this fog this sticky, smelly mud through this, through this swollen throat ... While the September night 196o. The increasingly falling on the slopes of hills, the muddy track at the entrance to the forest three hundred meters from the small houses with walls covered with ivy, lighted by two windows as the two eyes, only a tallow lamp, fifteen-year-old boy was dying ...