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  1. #1
    Bassim is online now Senior Member
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    Default The Lonely Wolf, part six

    This is the sixth part of my short story, The Lonely Wolf. Please would you correct my mistakes.

    I knew that if I wanted to survive and stay sane, I had to make friends. However, other human beings were out of the question. I was tired of them; they were predictable; they were products of the system that does not care about feelings and spirituality. They were chasing money and commodities, not understanding that they themselves had become expendable and disposable. They believed they were free, but instead, they were prisoners of goals and ideals forced upon them by the invisible power. Gradually, they were mutating into zombies, forgetting their humanity. I could not risk being ridiculed by such people. I did not want to suffer another humiliation, another disappointment.
    My true friends were just a few meters from my flat, although I did not notice them at the beginning. I woke up one morning, feeling depressed and anxious. If someone opened my door and told me he was going to kill me, I would have hugged that person as a saviour and told him to do the job properly and fast. Nevertheless, I knew that nobody was going to open my door; nobody was going to ease my suffering. Even the killers gave people of my kind a wide berth.

    My flat felt like a coffin; I was going to suffocate. I dressed myself and went outside. The morning was busy with my neighbours rushing to their jobs, some of them dragging their children to the day care centre. At the bus stop, more than a dozen people were queuing in silence, waiting for the already overcrowded busses. I could never join them. I would get a panic attack and alight at the next stop. I would never manage to be close to so many bodies and feel their heat and odours. I could not walk the streets either. I would feel the eyes behind the windscreens watching me carefully, and their fingers pointing at me. You cannot just take a stroll at this time of the day. It is an anomaly. You are supposed to hurry to your job, to pay your taxes, to build the country, to create more businesses, more goods, higher GDP.... You are not supposed to ruminate and ask questions, you are not supposed to doubt, because those who doubt cannot be part of the collective.

    I fled into the forest. I walked fast, away from human beings and habitations. The deeper I went, the better I felt. Soon, the noise of civilisation completely disappeared. Instead, I could hear the chirping and twittering of birds and buzzing of insects. They were like the most beautiful music to me ears. I could breathe normally and fill my lungs with the fresh, scented air. The branches above me felt like arms, ready to hug me, protect me and comfort me. Suddenly, my pain seemed to have disappeared. My heart was throbbing with joy. For the first time after years, I did not feel lonely. This is where I belong, I told myself. This is my true home, this is where my roots are, my connection with the universe.

    I would return to the forest every day, even if the weather was dreadful. I was like a teenager infatuated with his first love. I did not care if I was hungry or thirsty, or if I got blisters on my feet. I wanted to rest my eyes upon the gracious, slender birches, towering spruces, and ancient oaks. I wanted to amble among the beautiful flowers: blue anemones, orchids, and violets. All this vegetation was new for me, but at the same time, I felt it as the land of my birth, innocent, unspoiled, pure and generous. At the beginning, I wandered the old, well-trodden paths, and then, I became bolder and went where there were no traces of human activity. I was never afraid of being lost or attacked by an animal. I knew that there must have been bears and wolves roaming these parts, but they avoided me, or our paths did not cross. I had imagined meeting my brother wolf one day. I saw him watching me with his wolfish eyes, sniffing the air to determine whether I was a friend or an enemy, and then walking towards me to greet me, to meet his brother wolf in a human body. How we would howl together and tell each other stories about our loneliness and suffering! How we would feel warmth and love for each other! We would separate crying and howling but promise to meet again.

    TO BE CONTINUED

  2. #2
    Gillnetter is offline Key Member
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    Default Re: The Lonely Wolf, part six

    Quote Originally Posted by Bassim View Post
    This is the sixth part of my short story, The Lonely Wolf. Please would you correct my mistakes.

    I knew that if I wanted to survive and stay sane, I had to make friends. However, other human beings were out of the question. I was tired of them; they were predictable; they were products of the system that does not care about feelings and spirituality. They were chasing money and commodities, not understanding that they themselves had become expendable and disposable. They believed they were free, but instead, they were prisoners of goals and ideals forced upon them by the (some - since the power is not described) invisible power. Gradually, they were mutating into zombies, forgetting their humanity. I could not risk being ridiculed by such people. I did not want to suffer another humiliation, another disappointment.
    My true friends were just a few meters from my flat, although I did not notice them at the beginning. I woke up one morning, feeling depressed and anxious. If someone opened my door and told me he was going to kill me, I would have hugged that person as a saviour and told him to do the job properly and fast. Nevertheless, I knew that nobody was going to open my door; nobody was going to ease my suffering. Even the killers gave people of my kind a wide berth.

    My flat felt like a coffin; I was going to suffocate. I dressed myself and went outside. The morning was busy with my neighbours rushing to their jobs, some of them dragging their children to the day care centre (If there is more than one center, and there probably is, use "centers"). At the bus stop, more than a dozen people were queuing in silence, waiting for the already overcrowded busses. I could never join them. I would get a panic attack and alight at the next stop. I would could never manage to be close to so many bodies and feel their heat and (smell their) odours. I could not walk the streets either. I would feel the eyes behind the windscreens watching me carefully, and their fingers pointing at me. You cannot just take a stroll at this time of the day. It is an anomaly. You are supposed to hurry to your job, to pay your taxes, to build the country, to create more businesses, more goods, higher GDP.... You are not supposed to ruminate and ask questions, you are not supposed to doubt, because those who doubt cannot be part of the collective.

    I fled into the forest. I walked fast, away from human beings and habitations. The deeper I went, the better I felt. Soon, the noise of civilisation completely disappeared. Instead, I could hear the chirping and twittering of birds and the buzzing of insects. They were like the most beautiful music to me my ears. I could breathe normally and fill my lungs with the fresh, scented air. The branches above me felt like arms, ready to hug me, protect me and comfort me. Suddenly, my pain seemed to have disappeared. My heart was throbbing with joy. For the first time after in years, I did not feel lonely. This is where I belong, I told myself. This is my true home, this is where my roots are, my connection with the universe.

    I would return to the forest every day, even if the weather was dreadful. I was like a teenager infatuated with his first love. I did not care if I was hungry or thirsty, or if I got blisters on my feet. I wanted to rest my eyes upon the gracious, slender birches, towering spruces, and ancient oaks. I wanted to amble among the beautiful flowers: blue anemones, orchids, and violets. All this vegetation was new for me, but at the same time, I felt it as the land of my birth, innocent, unspoiled, pure and generous. At the beginning, I wandered the old, well-trodden paths, and then, I became bolder and went where there were no traces of human activity. I was never afraid of being lost or being attacked by an animal. I knew that there must have been bears and wolves roaming these parts, but they avoided me, or our paths did not cross. I had imagined meeting my brother wolf one day. I saw him watching me with his wolfish eyes, sniffing the air to determine whether I was a friend or an enemy, and then walking towards me to greet me, to meet his brother wolf in a human body. How we would howl together and tell each other stories about our loneliness and suffering! How we would feel warmth and love for each other! We would separate crying and howling but promise to meet again.

    TO BE CONTINUED
    You may want to read a novel called "To a God Unknown" by the American writer, John Steinbeck.

  3. #3
    Bassim is online now Senior Member
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    Default Re: The Lonely Wolf, part six

    Dear Gil,
    Thank you again for correcting my mistakes. This story is probably depressive because in Sweden this is the darkest period of a year. There are just short intervals of sun, otherwise there is darkness and cold weather. I have always asked myself why there are so much suicides in Scandinavia when people have such a good standard of living. But after my more then 20 years in Sweden I understand the reason. The lack of sunlight, darkness and cold temperatures affect human brain, even if people surround themselves with all kind of material object.

    I am just wondering if I really need to use the word "being" two times, in the sentence "I was never afraid of being lost or being attacked by an animal. "

  4. #4
    Gillnetter is offline Key Member
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    Default Re: The Lonely Wolf, part six

    Quote Originally Posted by Bassim View Post
    Dear Gil,
    Thank you again for correcting my mistakes. This story is probably depressive because in Sweden this is the darkest period of a year. There are just short intervals of sun, otherwise there is darkness and cold weather. I have always asked myself why there are so much suicides in Scandinavia when people have such a good standard of living. But after my more then 20 years in Sweden I understand the reason. The lack of sunlight, darkness and cold temperatures affect human brain, even if people surround themselves with all kind of material object.

    I am just wondering if I really need to use the word "being" two times, in the sentence "I was never afraid of being lost or being attacked by an animal. "
    There is a condition called seasonal affective disorder (SAD - hmm...). People get depressed when they do not get enough sunlight. A therapy is to receive artificial light. One way is to have a bright light aimed at a sheet of aluminum foil and to look at the foil. This seems to be enough light to offset the condition. I was raised in the state of Oregon in the Northwestern part of the US. When I was in college it was noted that Portland (the largest city in the state) had one of the highest suicide rates in the country. The normal weather in Oregon is either rainy or cloudy.

    As to the second "being", I can't make the sentence work without it.

  5. #5
    Bassim is online now Senior Member
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    Default Re: The Lonely Wolf, part six

    Dear Gil,

    Thank you again for your explanations.

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