Gjør som tusenvis av andre bokelskere
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I remember, remembering that I have repeated my past over and over, and over. For what reasons are there, to explain why one's life is in need of a repeat. Do we repeat life, for the purpose of getting it right, to correct a past mistake, to change the outcome of a situation to suit our egos? For what-ever reasons, we do re-live moments of our lives. Some of us have fleeting memories of those moments. I remember, remembering to rewrite these lines, or did I? Or is it only my mind playing visual games? For moments like this we use the Déjà vu. Quotes: Shivers up my spine after, during the reading of every short story. I will have nightmares . . ., thanks! Goose-bumps, shivers and a constant look over my should when reading these stories in an empty house.
I had walked out of the bush an old man. How Old, I did not know? The years had passed without the need to celebrate the remembrance of a birth date. There was something familiar about the place. I noticed a man rocking lazily on an open porch. The old man resembled the face I have when I gaze at my own reflection. We pause and stop, our eyes studying each and every feature of the other. He is familiar; I search my memory for names to place with the face before me. He seems satisfied that after consideration, he has placed a name to my face. I have not placed a name to suit his likeness. "e;Thomas?"e; "e;Yes, I am Thomas Chapais."e; "e;Thomas, I am . . . Nicolas."e; Two old men stood there dumb-founded with nothing to say but to repeat each other's name with favour, contempt, anger, sadness and an undying love that only kinship knows. Without an embrace, nor a handshake we bonded as brothers need to. Our eyes were reluctant to gaze away for fear of the image disappearing.
In the rugged bush of Northern Ontario, a small bush plane crashes. On board is a ten-year-old boy and the pilot. In the early 1960's the only one capable of finding the crash site is Hag and his blood hound Wojo. Hag enjoyed the good life of living in the wilderness until events leading up to the crash and the search was hampered by his companion. Wojo has shown signs of rabies. It is too late when Hag discovers that the infected scratch on his arm was from his dog. There in the middle of nowhere a sick man and the boy he finds develop a bond that is stronger then life it self. Survival is the utmost of importance when there is a lifetime of growing up ahead. An adventure bigger than the wilderness of Northern Ontario. Quotes: A powerful story. I was shocked by the ending. As heartfelt as the movie Old Yeller. I cried for the boy, I cried for the dog and I cried for Hag. A great story Idea, it could have really happened especially here in Northern Ontario. This is truly a Canadian story.
Abonner på vårt nyhetsbrev og få rabatter og inspirasjon til din neste leseopplevelse.
Ved å abonnere godtar du vår personvernerklæring.