novel story - A thorough history of the novel "mesh"

Born in Switzerland, Thomas returned with his family in Oklahoma on one of the last boats to leave Genoa before the Second World War began. Summers on the barefoot ...


Stones in the Stream
The roar of the wheels stopped on the street and a realization of the pervasive silence, until he replaced my head completely clears. Wake up, I know, I'm choking with thirst. It was hot in the car. My last memory is of telephone poles with a zipper in a blur as boring and that to play my sister, "how many cows in black and white you see?"
"Will you help me through the door with the suitcase?
"Look at the fireplace, it is huge."
"Where is the dog?"
The car was driving on a sloping and I was the only one in her, and they were the things in the stone house, its veranda along like a grim smile on the face of a fortress. I pulled down the door handle and clear windows! I went to the other and the feeling of movement in the door until it opened with one click. Pull in and down, I scratched knees, then my belly inching into the vein on the hard edge of the seat. I feel like a caterpillar in a wiggle on bristly padding. "To tell you the hair used in the" I remembered Mama. My shirt came lose up scooter on my ribs. A set of radial tires cloth of my chest. Slowly, slowly, until I inch on my shoes hit the jagged rocks of the disc, was the sound of rock compaction and if I clear the vacancy.
I felt much better in the fresh air. I lay down to get rid of this feeling swayed to pent-up and bring in a hot car. We have always gone, and soon decline the warm afternoon sun my skin. I notice that the air stir cooler and fresher than it was at home, and a mixture of odors in vertebrae together: the flow of grass, trees, rocks and sand and move around each other crunchy in all designs. Below and on the other side of the street is a huge field of grass and trees on the dark green needles to increase the sheets and cover are the foothills of the mountains and ridges, it is trees do all, as if to be missing someone that paint Brown remain spots while shaking all the leaves. It is all new to me, as the air smells, and then the incredible sea of grass below the road along a river that dances like a hoop in motion.
The older I get, the harder sounds of water, foam brilliant acceleration dark on the rocks. The river sings and the sound is a little song: "How did you ever sssuppose Cross's me?" It is impossible to do. How do I get to the other side where I put the newspaper that makes a bridge Creek, where the water depth : is a protocol dark, almost as tall as I am tall, but I can put my arms around her and curl my fingers into the spaces between the strips in the flat bark that someone told me that the skin of the trees! He felt and saw the big tree in the courtyard of the hedge. Everyone calls it a "Cottonwood" with white tufts like parachutes, the seed of speed in the air.
"You will fall into the water, I thought and I wondered:" Am I trying to tell me or to scare it? "I rolled on top of the log over the water spouts beneath me." Is walking to forget, I said. "You remember crawl much better? Belly up, belly down, crawling backwards, sideways, my butt in the air like a camel with a hump (like moan it made my sister) - Rafael fearless, just a whisper above the ground! am "I just above the surface of the newspaper where I was able to reach and explore the other side as fast as a spider! Tears of the trees, the laces of a shoe. I hope I do not want to lose. What does Mama? I imagined my mother's eyes, sad and cross the two, a spark of fire in them, "sighed the mother," How on earth can you lose a shoe? "
Jumping from the newspaper on the floor, I stuffed my foot into the shoe swing and I tore down the laces to get back and I came because I had to push the grass so high My eyes were high, I see clearly, some small yellow seeds in rows PERT and leaves rolled out, that I know are as sharp as razor blades, thorns on the back of them, Porcupine quills tug my shirt, pull my pants to my clothes, my skin feels like a cat licking me. All I could see was grass and more grass, green fingers to touch up to the blue sky. I could not see the ground in most places by the forged blades of Grass Roots as a thick carpet fists clenched all. Then I heard Mom and my sisters screaming across the street.
"Where is Rafael?
"Not in the car.
"It is not in the house."
"It is not excluded even back of the house."
Mom and my sisters, my aunt called Felicia and forth to each other. They were weak and distant, but they were clear, and I heard my father say: "I bet he is on grass there. Here I would anyway."
"Oh, Theo," said mother, my sisters and lamented their consent in a way that reminded me of Huey, Dewey and Louie meet Unca Donald "puzzle.
, I wanted to say: "I'm here!" but I wanted to do so, he could see and hear. I worked my way through the green hills solid until the outbreak of large gray rock and where the trees began. I want to scream and wave her so she can hear me. I started to call when the cicadas cry in a wave of hope and despair began. Only the crickets can sing this incredible, deafening song of love. I was able to make any noise in their rebellion, and the grass made me invisible. Compensation from the rock would be a perfect place for me to let them know that I was facing. I decide I will wave my arms and, like most people do.
Suddenly, the little bear was there. He studied me alone. I looked into his eyes, he moved quickly and easily and also surprised me a little nervous. My surprise was his surprise, in a mirror. I could not help but notice how easily and seemed convinced that his. So, to all the stems and leaves around me, insects in the mass, such as aircraft squadrons cut into a riot. They moved. They landed. Everything I saw and heard the buzzing of insects and sometimes even won their little wings against me. A bear? Yes, it's like I do. Nothing like the zoo, such as sidewalks sticky candy. He looked at me, then away. I looked back and outside, too. It feels like we are the same age or nearly all, and the little bear, who was left behind the rock there are. , I felt that he came because he is mine. I felt him and insects in the grass back and forth.
I think, "If Dad could see me!"
"I'll go," said my father, far away.
"Oh, Theo," cried my sisters and my mother's words engraved with his dry whisper disbelief.The acid hummed on the ground and more than a clap of thunder was the little bear's "before him and me.
Confidential inquiry eyes Email me and I feel deep in his contempt. There are traces of the plane also angry, and the teeth, it makes the flaring violet of his gums, his lips to express his feelings, like a mockery. Hers eyes are lightning, it lets me know it must be right with their child, anger and disgust of little things. She wants her little, she could make short work of me. It is precisely in order to decide shortly. Now moves me then she rolls her eyes away, his head moves up and down tall and stately, she brushes the air with his paw as someone dealing with spiders. It is clear to me that they decide whether I live and the plume of his breath is hot and funky as his face against the round face of the child whose lips black, purple gums, teeth whiter than his mother sun dry bones in its huge mouth. His expression softened in a moment, always the one with those eyes of her child. It was a cosmic hug and she waved her child: "Come!" His co-driver was the look in my eyes piercingly surprise farewell: "You know how they are! Do not you think?"
I thought that my mother could not hide. No longer!
I look away and down at home. The whiteness of the place makes me realize they were all gone inside. Then I began the path that I was on my way into the grass and went straight into the arms of my father who came to me to follow, and I told him about Little Bear and his mother, real bears, not a zoo not a plush brown bear I love, but had left at home.
"It was a grizzly bear," said my father. "If his mother was two of me, they have been brought Grizzly! You lucky enough to see the happiness and his mother have you fallen enough to let you go about your business have!"
When we arrived at the river, "I said," I want to cross the paper, Dad. "
"Sign?" Which newspapers? "
"There!"
"Oh no, Rafael, come with me. I have a place where rocks hard as rocks in a garden path! Bear I can know you by. How did you register? It seems to me very important."
"I crawled along it, Dad."
"Oh, I see."
And where the stones were father said, "Why not cross? Here you go before me. Give me your hand to hold and you can move a piece of the others."
A walk through the dancing water, I ask, "Why did not I think?"
Okay, is history.