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Ally's Most Thanked Post | ||
Post Subject | Post Date/Time | Numbers of Thanks |
Essence | 12-24-2012, 11:42 PM | 15 |
Thread Subject | Forum Name | |
Essence |
Stone Jar Museum & Showroom
Ongoing Project |
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Post Message | ||
GameSoft - Interactive in collaboration with [center][url="http://schobeats.com/"]http://schobeats.com/images/logo.png[/url][/center] [center]Presents[/center] [center]http://imageshack.us/a/img688/222/titolofinito.png[/center] - Introduction I think the project is now enough 'known', so that the presentation has taken many folds, which in addition to these has been particularly unstable. Taking a chat with Kentaro (not thank you enough for your help), I must say it has taken and is taking a nice shape, which is already a lot of material available. Forget the bed until now, and enjoy the future of this project! - StorY "The mother was frightened. I felt like clinging to the belly, as his blood - our blood - accelerated, the lungs air grind and I squeezed uncomfortably in my world liquid. Fear! He was running! The night before I had toyed between sobs, asking forgiveness. He would kill her, if he had discovered. He had no choice, he could not escape, was his only job opportunities: he was young, and his youth was not expendable, and I ... I was just a mistake. He was lying. Other women's voices, calm, a background to the screams of his mother. The pain is unbearable ... and then the cold, brutal posting: my first breath of fresh air is a heart-rending cry. But the midwives have entries met. Mother! We have separated! Unknown hands I wrap it in cloth warm and fragrant, I try to move the limbs - oh, the space, I never thought was possible ... And then the breath held, rumors suddenly become bitter. A second voice, older but equally cautious: The mother whispered feebly, to put the world has exhausted. Mother! Keep me with you ... But the bony hands of midwives, farmers' hands, hands with the wisdom of ordinary people handed down over the centuries, I quickly wrap and mark forever my destiny. I do not know why I came up with this memory, perhaps impossible: a feeling. Will that Sister Clara reminded me of those bony hands, Sister Clara I pulls my jacket in rags and hisses angrily how lucky in the last 12 years to be brought up with them. But the free ride was about to end, oh if you had come, I would be working from now on, I would have earned my place in the world. The tall woman who looks at me with a look computer must have thought the same thing, since it is quickly switch a purse full of coins jingling in the nimble hands of Sister Clara, who gives me a hasty pat on the head before returning to passetti quick to Convent. I can not help but look at her go away ... my world, lost for the second time. |
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