Schrijfuitdaging april 2020


Houd je van creatief bloggen en houd je ervan om uitgedaagd te worden? Dan is dit misschien iets voor jou.

Er zijn goede redenen om aan een #schrijfuitdaging mee te doen. Ze zijn op de eerste plaats stimulerend en leerzaam. Ze helpen je om nieuwe vaardigheden te ontdekken en te ontwikkelen. En natuurlijk is er nog een andere reden: ze zijn gewoon erg leuk om aan mee te doen! Ik nodig je dan ook heel graag uit om mee te doen aan de maandelijkse schrijfuitdaging.

Deze schrijfuitdaging is geen wedstrijd. Behalve de welbekende 'eeuwige roem' is er niets mee te winnen of verdienen. Hoewel, misschien het belangrijkste: de waardering van iedereen die je bijdrage(s) leest. Het is helemaal aan jou of je meedoet, maar het zou natuurlijk wel heel leuk zijn als je dat zou doen.

Heb je veel inspiratie? Geen probleem, je kunt net zo vaak meedoen als je zelf wilt. Ik zal de inzendingen in ieder geval delen op mijn Facebook-pagina 'Leuk om te lezen'. Als je die pagina een 'like' geeft en je vrienden daar ook op wijst, dan krijgt de pagina meer bereik, meer lezers en kunnen we daar allemaal van profiteren.


Wat gaan we in april 2020 doen en hoe doe je mee?

We gaan aan de slag met een persoonlijke favoriet: steekwoorden! Onderstaande tien steekwoorden moet je in een #verhaal verwerken dat minimaal 250 woorden lang moet zijn, en maximaal 700.

  • Kwast
  • Contact
  • Elastiek
  • Telescoop
  • Bankpas
  • Intelligent
  • Aardbei
  • Broek
  • Tuintafel
  • Taart


Belangrijk

  • De #steekwoorden mag je niet splitsen, maar je mag ze wel in het meervoud zetten of in een samenstelling gebruiken. Voorbeelden: je mag 'bankpas' niet splitsen in 'bank' en 'pas', maar je mag bijvoorbeeld 'kwast' wel gebruiken in woorden als 'kwastje' of 'verfkwast'.
  • Je zet in de reacties onder deze blog een link naar je bijdrage. Zo zijn alle bijdrages gemakkelijker te vinden.
  • Zet onder je eigen blog ook een link naar deze uitdaging.
  • Het is leuk gelezen te worden – dat geldt voor iedereen die meedoet. Het is dus heel fijn als je ook de bijdrages van anderen leest.

Ik zal ongetwijfeld zelf ook meedoen.

Succes, heel veel plezier met het schrijven!


Hieronder (komen) de bijdrages van deze maand:

* Ik mis je

Ingrid Tips en meer

FrutselenindeMarge
Hans van Gemert
FrutselenindeMarge
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Requiem: Chapter 2
- Stephen March nodded affirmatively. When the man pulled off the white cloth with a tip to identify the corpse, his face turned pale. He swallowed a few times to calm his protesting stomach. His sister Suzy was almost unrecognizably mutilated all over the body, but the small tattoo on her neck, the red round sickle around the green bulb of mistletoe in the right bottom of the neck would be recognized everywhere.. He was mechanically looking for something else and found the little scar on her cut off left hand. The jagged white scar tissue on her ring finger was less obvious than when she was alive and the blood was still flowing through her limbs.. But with both of these landmarks, he was able to officially confirm to the coroner's clerk that these were unmistakably the remains of Suzy Chang. Strange that the memory of the scar Stephen shot through the head at this time, there in the vicinity of her lifeless body.. The scar was the result of a small accident with a broken glass. Trying to save what was already lost! Was this the inscription he should have etched on her grave? His half-sister lay naked, in pieces together, like a macabre puzzle on the metal sliding flap of one of the refrigerated storage cabinets of Sanctuary's urban morgue, Tokyo's new sister city and capital of the New World. He didn't remember what to say, could barely control himself at that time. His eyes were shooting full and he swallowed hard to nip the cry that sought out of his inner way out. He put his hand unmechanically in response over his mouth and stood for a while in the same position. A nervously silent voice ripped him out of his ossification. 'Sumimases! Sorry, Mr. March. I realize it must be difficult moments for you. Forgive us that we have to show your family member to you. However, we were not allowed to degrade the remains because the judicial pathologist has not yet been able to close the forensic investigation. The Security Service has so far not authorised this because of the ongoing investigation into the cause of death of the victim.’ The Japanese clerk apparently felt extremely bored with this situation. The man almost constantly rubbed his hands together in a gesture of despair. Stephen frowned amazed the eyebrows and waited impatiently for further explanation. As a diplomat, he was heard daily meaningless phrases and bombastic explanations, sometimes against will and thanks, but this exceeded his understanding.. He looked at the man who was clearly having a hard time. A sidekick, a messenger? From this man with his neatly combed hair with the parting in the middle and with a nervous tic around the left corner of the mouth he could not expect much. Fortunately, the man had covered the remains of Suzy again, and he had reinstated the slider, because in the time he had made the identification something up in Stephen. Seeing the body, the recognition and the flashes of a living Suzy. It was something he barely had in his hand. That's why Stephen had to get rid of his anger somewhere, and he pointed it at the man before him..“I suppose the ripening of a man must be “the cause of death or not sometimes?“he asked bits snarling, disguising his grief and confusion, when the man did not immediately answer. 'Ie!“the man answered in the negative in Japanese, when he suddenly realized that Stephen was an American. 'No,... uh, yeah... I mean, as far as I understand it, the mutilations are post mortem inflicted, so after the death of your sister, Mr. March. Perhaps this finding can offer you a little comfort at this sad moment. Perhaps your sister hasn't suffered as much as at first sight... I mean as it seems now..’ Stephen suspected that the man was trying to calm him down and felt that the servant was just trying to move his best foot forward. The man had no right to be treated like this. ‘ Could you please tell me who was appointed to lead the murder investigation and who the responsible coroner is? Where can I go with all my questions?'asked a tired and excited Stephen March now a little less evil. However, the impatient sound and anger that still sounded in his voice, he could not hide. It was the anger for the impotence in the whole situation. It was the bubbling realization of a final loss of a piece of his own life. 'Oh yes, of course, 'the servant reacted nervously. “Chief Inspector Norino Vastai has taken this case under his wing. If anyone can find the beast that committed this inhuman murder, it's him. I think Mr. Vastai will be here any moment, 'said the nervous man as he consulted his clockwork for the umpteenth time. 'The coroner, Mr. Huang, I have just seen you arrive when you were standing at the entrance desk, 'Stephen was given as additional information. 'He had an appointment here with Mr Vastai at ten o'clock. So you can meet them both at the same time... if you please. If you'd like to follow me?’ He led Stephen through several corridors to a small space where there were a dozen easy chairs and a low table. A kind of waiting area he assumed, sober and impersonal. A tune muzak broke the awkward silence in the room. 'You can wait here for a moment. I will inform my commander Mr. Huang and Chief Inspector Vastai that you are here..“The servant was apparently relieved that the shocking identification was over and his task was done. He saluted briefly and disappeared railroad. Stephen sighed loudly and fatigued his head in both hands. Notwithstanding his ninety-two and his hundred kilos, he was a giant of a man, as he was sitting there, bent shoulders and his head in his hands looked like a broken and lonely man. A few days ago, he was still unaware of the drama that was going to fall on him.. Yesterday in the early morning, when he landed at Sanctuary airport after a long-haul flight from the Old World with a stopover at Zaventem airport — he had a meeting with the local ambassador in Brussels — he did not know yet that he had his diplomatic mission would begin to identify the corpse of his dead half-sister. His thoughts floated away like a seagull over a sea of time, to a moment somewhere thirty years ago. Around this time, his father Thomas March had married for a second time. After a successful diplomatic mission in the East, he had met a woman and built a second life. His new wife's name was Kathy Chang. Thomas's first wife, Maddy Silverstone, had died five years before. It would have been a short and uneven battle. Bone cancer, diagnosed much too late and with metastasis all over the body. In a dozen weeks, his sweet Maddy Silverstone had passed away as a merged creature, no longer comparable to the beauty she once was.. Stephen had a sister from this new marriage. Her name was Suzy and she was the child of Kathy Chang and her first husband. A loser who had left his stepmother four months pregnant with his child and disappeared with the northern sun. Years later, Kathy had heard of him a few more times. It was when she read that he was murdered during a skirmish that fell out of control between two youth gangs. She had thought of his deserved wages angry and bitter. Suzy Chang was the result of this relationship, a teen-year-old little girl, the same age as Stephen. Slightly shy with a disarmed mysterious smile and pitch-black hair braided in a long ponytail. That's how Stephen saw her at this moment in his memory. He immediately noticed the tattoo of the red sickle around the green mistletoe on her neck. When he asked her what it meant, she had simply answered proudly with one word: 'Akai!’ Later, through his stepmother and Suzy himself, he had learned more about this group of people, about their special way of life, what they believed in and about the rules of their doctrine that they followed as best as possible during their lives as Akai.. Unfortunately, Stephen's father and stepmother died six years ago. They had become the unfortunate victims of an accident with a new prototype glider or autobot. The new means of transport was still in the test phase. As often with new things, sometimes something goes wrong. The one time for Thomas March and Kathy Chang with disastrous consequences. Now he was left alone, his family was gone. He felt literally and figuratively orphaned. The loneliness that suddenly overtook him and rested like a great weight on his shoulder, was so tangible that he sagged even deeper into his chair. He had no idea how much time had passed when he was ripped from his memories by a sound that brought him back to the present. “Mr. March, Stephen March.?'asked the voice again. He looked up and nodded hesitantly affirmatively while at the same time he was hard to get out of his chair. It seemed as if he had dozed off for a while and woke up a little dazed. The shock of the facts and the subsequent identification clearly left its mark. “My condolences for your loss, Mr. March, I realize it must be difficult, but unfortunately I will have to ask you a few questions about your half-sister... the victim Suzy Chang?’ The man spoke perfectly English and was dressed in the uniform of the Security Service. He sat down and took out a small flat black device from the inside pocket of his jacket, pushed a button and put it on the table in front of him. “Better than all that paper waste from the past decades, you won't find?'the man began.'I'm Chief Inspector Norino Vastai. May I also introduce our pathologist, Mr Kim Huang, who carried out the autopsy?’ Huang made a short bow with his hand on his heart and gave Stephen the Western handshake that was customary in the Old World and also sat down next to the Chief Inspector. Chief Inspector Vastai was a small corpulent Japanese with a short-shaved military haircut. His eyes were very perceptive and looked at Stephen in an inquisitive way. Occupational malformation likely. The coroner Kim Huang, of Chinese origin was rather the opposite type of the Chief Inspector. Kim Huang was rather on the skinny side with hair that could best be described as a rebellious ragol. The scattered professor types— maybe? Stephen knew that the appearance could sometimes be misleading. “Make it easy, “the inspector pointed to the chair he had just come out of, “I suppose you have several questions about the death of your half-sister Suzy Chang.. But let me briefly summarize what I can or can tell you about this matter. Perhaps that will answer some questions.’ March had not escaped that the policeman used the phrase 'may or can'. At that time, he felt that there was some special case here. Despite his grief and a pressing fatigue, his attention automatically sharpened. He shook briefly, not unnoticed before Norino Vastai's inquisitive gaze, his head to get his mind clearer. His diplomatic background and influence here might be more than necessary to uncover the truth. 'I listen, 'he answered waiting and looked the captain straight into those perceptive eyes. 'The remains of Suzy Chang, daughter of Kathy Chang, your deceased stepmother, 'began Mr. Vastai, 'were yesterday morning in the' Deeplands 'at a distance of five kilometers from the' Catacombs' discovered by an accidental passerby. She was found... 'here he stopped for a moment in order to formulate his words as tactfully as possible,' in the state as you could see at the time of identification. She must have died the night before between 10:00 and 11:00 according to the first investigations. The victim was mutilated... presumably “after” her death in order to complicate identification as we presume, we have no conclusions on that.. Maybe it could be just a sadistic act of a psychopathic killer.Here he stopped for a moment to give Stephen March time to process everything. The coroner had wanted to add something to the Commissioner's comment when Vastai spoke about the time of the mutilation, but was given a warning look from the man in such a way that he swallowed his reaction again and looked at the ground somewhat dazed. weird? 'However, we found a short note in the lining of her jacket. The note probably slipped through a hole in the jacket pocket into the lining. I don't suppose it was supposed to be. The killer must have overlooked that if he was trying to avoid the identification of the victim.. But in this way we have been able to make the necessary link to you. On the other hand, we were almost 100% sure it was about Suzy Chang. Her identification chip, which was implanted with her when she was staying in the Old World with your late father and Kathy Chang for a while, 'he took a moment to read and weigh his words, frown the eyebrows and looked deep into Stephen's eyes and then went on, 'became although damaged in an attempt to remove that, however, with less success than intended. After some failed attempts and a lot of puzzle work, our ICT services could still get their name out of it, which confirmed our suspicion by the note, 'he stated in his statement, 'but you understand that we needed an independent and personal identification. for our files.’ Stephen let this flood of words flow over himself and remembered only a few words: ' Deeplands' , ‘ note ' and the ' Catacombs' , ‘ Identification chip damaged' . The Deeplands and the Catacombs were neighbourhoods that are not normally frequented at dark. What was Suzy doing there? About the letter he was most astonished. 'A letter? What do you mean that letter was able to link me? I never wrote letters to Suzy. We had regular contact via mail or our mobile phone. Usually when I was on a diplomatic mission in the New World, I always came to visit her, but it was too. What was on that note?’ Mr Vastai doubted a few seconds, which, of course, Stephen immediately remarked. It was one of his skills to be able to read the body language of the people, one of the required and highly valued characteristics as a diplomat, which had already given him the advantage in a discussion on several occasions.. “Your name, let's put it on that, Mr. March..'More he wouldn't hear about this, not now, but Stephen March had his sources, that came later. They weren't done with him yet. “I suppose you haven't been able to track down the perpetrator yet, otherwise you would have informed me.. Do you already have any suspects?“Stephen March didn't even blink when he asked this question. His senses and mindfulness were only now at full speed. He pushed his fatigue into the background and felt that there was more going on here. They wanted to send him here with a little lump in the reeds. Notwithstanding his grief, he was now very observant. Neither Chinese nor Japanese would play with his feet here. Then they didn't know Stephen March yet. 'No... unfortunately not, Mr. March, but we keep you informed of the progress of this case, 'replied Vastai while he was looking at Kim Huang for a moment. Again that single count of doubt and looking away to the left. Norino Vastai was right-handed and would normally look right when he drew from his memories. He had had a good teacher to his father Thomas who had once explained that to him. A right-handed person looks to the right if he used the part of his brain where his memories were stored, then he speaks the truth or tries to remember the truth. The opposite here in this case therefore clearly indicated that Inspector Vastai was not telling the full truth or making up something. 'If you have any questions for Mr. Huang, rest assured, 'the Chief Inspector added, 'we do not want to violate the fragile friendship of the Old and New World, not in the slightest way,' and again a look went back and forth between Norino Vastai and Kim Huang. They definitely withheld something. Stephen had no questions for Mr. Huang. It couldn't bring Suzy back anyway if he asked for more details about her injuries, but he did have another one for the Chief Inspector of Security. “Okay, I understand.! So you don't want to lose anything to me, 'which gave him a thoughtful look from the Chief Inspector. 'Perhaps a small question to which you can answer. Has her apartment already been released? Can I visit it without obstructing your ongoing investigation?'he asked, clearly weighing his words so as not to smack them in the head, for he had noticed the tightening of Norino Vastai after his brief accusation . Stephen had already set aside five days to make up for some lost time with his half-sister. He didn't know he'd have to spend them this way. That way, he didn't have to answer to the home base for his absence. By the way, when urgent, they could always reach him on his cell. “Of course, Mr. Huang will give you the necessary things, what remains of her garments and the rest of her personal belongings she had in her pocket. If you don't have any more questions...?'the Chief Inspector decided. Stephen still had a question for the pathologist anatomist.May I put a question to Mr Huang?He added the deed to the word when Mr. Huang nodded. 'Have you already established the cause of death??'asked Stephen. Again he mainly watched the wordless communication between the two people before him. There was always a moment of subcutaneous tension that prevailed before an answer was given. “Your sister died from the consequences of arterial bleeding, Mr. March,” Huang replied. “I can assure you that she did not suffer long. After the toxicology test, we found a substance in her system that suggests she was sedated.’ Stephen noted that the pathologist didn't mention if that drug was still working when Suzy was killed. The answers he got here were not to his liking. He would have to investigate himself, or else he would remain as ignorant as he had arrived here a few hours ago. For his own peace of mind, he should know more than what they were trying to get rid of him here. Nevertheless, he thanked Mr Huang in his own language: 'Xiè xiè, thanks.’ 'Bù yòng xiè, happily done' replied Kim Huang mechanically but amazed back in Chinese. copyright Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere Requiem: Chapter 1 or 3 - Requiem: Chapter 1 - Requiem: Chapter 3 -
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Requiem: Chapter 1
- I'm orphaned looking at the two silver-grey urns on the steel plane in the lawn. It sings, but I don't really notice. The drizzle mixes with my silent tears and flows past my grief face. I want and will keep me strong, but nothing is more difficult. My soaked hair sticks like a snail in my neck. Wherever my parents may be, in these urns or as an immortal soul in some dimension, my thoughts are with them. I am neither an atheist nor a convinced pillar biter, but the longer I walk around this globe, the more I doubt the existence of a Supreme Being. Some call this creature God, some give Him a different name. “If “He exists and has power or influence on our world, if He has any power to intervene, then such a thing should not happen. Shooting images through my head. An afternoon in the snow with my father where we made a giant snowman with all the trimmings. The beautiful black hair of my mother that I liked brushing as a little child. The many ways of life I got from both my parents. A God who allows this, I don't want to know today. The person responsible for this is all the better. It is the only creature that possesses the ability to decimate, rape, slaughter and quartering its own kind without remorse. The only living creature that kills his own kind in an instant and goes on without looking back, without even dwell on his irreversible act, just as if nothing had happened,. The remains of my parents, twice a few handfuls of ashes, descend silently into their respective urns underground. A small copper-colored plate, not so large, on which in small letters their name, date of birth and death is printed, automatically slides across the space and takes their place. It seems to me like a misplaced magic trick: now you see them... then no more! In my heart, however, they will never disappear. Arturo Mitsukai and his wife Sachiko Matai had died a violent death. Violence is, of course, an unmistakable fact from the beginning of the existence of mankind. The survival urge that is embedded in our genes is difficult to cut out as a tumor or a tumour. It is peculiar to our society and burned in us as a mark. Both in humans or in society there is one rule, one law that is still valid. The law of the strongest! Sometimes the result of this law is directly proportional to the use of the power of the person using the force. Unfortunately, there are people who only know this answer, who only listen when they feel a hard hand. Another time, the aggression used is so excessive that the majority frankly disapprove of it because it passes its goal. But when that piece of perverse brutality touches you personally, it changes you forever. It's a cancerous tumor that keeps growing and at some point breaks open like an overripe pimple. With all the disastrous consequences. It crawls into your brain, it nests like a virus in your mind, a worm that does irrevocable harm. Friends and acquaintances of my parents, some of whom I had ever seen, people from the accounting office where I work, other completely strangers to me, have just expressed their condolences in a silence that is fraught with the way my parents literally and figuratively from life-carved. I just can't imagine it, I have to try to push my thoughts away in a separate corner where they may slumber in quiet grief.. That's where I'm going to keep them for a while until the time is right. Then, the moment it's necessary, I'm going to reenepen these feelings.. I will never forget what was done to my parents, never will I forgive the unsub! My name is Yukiko Mitsukai and today I promise retribution for these murders. I appeal to this blood deed. It is the revenge, the retribution that is the only exception to the peace-loving doctrine of the Akai. If it is not possible in these circumstances, if this promise is not at the moment, then I say that there is no reason for the existence of this use in the Akai. Exceptional circumstances require exceptional measures, you taught me that. As true as I am your daughter, I will find, and hunt your murderer wherever he may hide. If I have to search on the other side of the world or in the deepest pits of hell, he will not escape me. Even if that search lasts until I die myself or people kill me. In the course of that process, I will try to use all that you have taught me to achieve my goal. Because so much that's mine now comes from you. What you have given me is priceless. Something for which I must be eternally grateful and also am. My hands and feet will become my weapons, my mind will be tougher and sharper than the steel of a sword. I hope my vengeance can give you both peace of mind. The death of your murderer will not compare anything to what he did to you. That and nothing less I promise! Actually, I ' Akai' am at heart. ………. Arturo Mitsukai cut a leaf from a beautiful flower arrangement.. Arturo was in the winter of his life. His age, hard to estimate, could hardly be attributed to him his seventy-five years. Arturo was still as straight as he used to be when he was a proud and proud young man. His step was still confident and fixed even now. Maybe a little slower than before. His short cut white-gray hair was a natural pointer to the many years he counted. The wisdom that shone from his eyes, and the serenity in the words when he spoke of something, testified to years of experience but also to a well-founded knowledge of matters. His physical condition was tiptop, there he took care of himself every day. Arturo Mitsukai walked a little five kilometers every morning, outside when the weather was nice and otherwise on the treadmill he had purchased years ago. He also regularly cycled quite a bit of distance on his bike or stationary bike in his hobby room. A healthy mind in a healthy body was certainly not an empty phrase for him.. His greatest passion, however, was his greenhouse with exotic flora. Arturo had a large collection of flowers and plants. From dozens of species of orchids, including the hybrid species Cymbidium, Vanda and Phalaenopsis to bromeliads of different genera such as Billbergia, Guzmania and Aechmea. Yuccas and other tropical plants adorned his spacious greenhouse. In the beginning, when he started with some plants, he sometimes had a hard time distinguishing one species from another. Now after all these years of searching and working with them every day with passion, he knew them by their folk and Latin names.. Orchids, he sometimes told friends, thrive in high humidity. Therefore, they perfectly match with plants with a large leaf mass. He also told them that orchids are epiphytic, which means they can grow on other plants. Therefore, they are bound to a bark with a special substrate. To achieve a natural effect, one can make a kind of tree of it yourself and then combine it with, for example, the bromeliads he grew. Greenhouse building and its applications had few secrets left for Arturo, and sometimes he walked over to a random visitor with enthusiasm. He was forgiven with all understanding of the passion for his life's work. A layman in the profession would not understand what he was doing now. Why with tenderness and love he was still removing fresh green leaves and sometimes a flowering flower — pieces representing life — from a flower arrangement? One might think that this was an act of useless mutilation, a destroying a piece of natural beauty. Why he put the green petal and the cut flower separately in a bowl with tenderness would seem strange? He would soon find a suitable destination for this collection of cut flowers and removed plant parts. These leaves, flowers, meant new life. Fertilizer for another flower or plant. Their cycle of decay was part of the circle of life of another plant or flower. This was one of the roads that the Akai wandered. Akai or red in Japanese stood before the sun on their flag Hinomaru . This meant solar disk and they still coloured their national banner . For the Akai, that sun was the source of life and growth. The strength and aesthetics of a flower should not be subordinate to the quantity of the blossoms and the green of the leaf. Depending on the number and size of the leaves that were different for each type of flower. Thus grows and blooms a flower, a plant in all its splendor. Waste was a sin against the rules of nature. This way of life of the Akai brought balance, balance and peace of mind to the plant and flower world, as well as to the flora in the conservatory of Arturo Mitsukai. This way of thinking could be extended in a number of cases for some human life values. Sometimes one can develop certain qualities better by converting his known weaknesses in oneself into positive forces. The power of a man is only as strong as his greatest weakness. By going and working this way, man improves himself as a whole. By working on its lesser good sides, one strengthens the overall picture of oneself. When the door of the conservatory opened and the chill of the evening blew his fresh breath over the back of Arturo, he did not look back. The smell of jasmine tea met him in the person of Sachiko Matai, his life companion.. Like him, she was dressed in a sober black and white ensemble that extra accentuated her light skin. A skin like silk he knew so well, a body he still coveted. His love for Sachiko in the last season of his life was no longer marked by the bright colours of passion or by the impetuousness of youth. Now their relationship knew the gentle depth of control, a trait peculiar to their old age and the knowledge of their unconditional love for each other. Proof of this they have been providing for so many years, so many days together in prosperity and adversity. It goes without saying that one achieves such a thing only after a long time. To be able to walk the way of life together is a privilege that one can rightly be proud. It is indeed an adventure of trial and error, a process of learning and understanding, of giving and taking. Periods of happiness and disaster alternate as in every human life, but each time one helps each other back on top of it. That was the core of their love. It was not always an easy road, but it eventually led to the daily enjoyment of the deep affection between a man and a woman. With a loving smile as a silent thank you, he sipped the hot jasmine tea she had brought for him. He preferred this kind of tea, not only because he thought it was the best fragrance tea, but also because the tea was made by laying jasmine flowers among the leaves of green tea. He found that symbolically in balance with his hobby, with his hundreds of flowers and plants he grew in his conservatory. Actually, the tea he drank was of Chinese origin where they used ten kilos of jasmine flowers to obtain about one kilo of jasmine tea. The tea at Arturo had a calming effect and worked relaxing. It also promoted his digestion, which at his age was indeed important. Therefore, he was always grateful for the jasmine tea that his wife prepared him every day without fail. He still found Sachiko Matai attractive and slim, although she was barely five years younger. On several occasions he told her that. True love and affection is expressed in words and deeds. Sometimes after years of silence or blindly accepting an established fact, that self-evident affection disappears with a little bit and at a time it's gone, one day it's completely gone. Sachiko allowed to color her gray hair black at her age. Sachiko did this to please her husband and not out of personal vanity. That would be a sin for an Akai. Arturo had once told me that if he met her for the first time, it was her black long hair that he first noticed.. He fell first for her black shiny hair, then for her silent smile that always shone in her eyes and when he really met her as his future wife, he fell for the wife Sachiko herself. It was so long ago. Times gone by and then she was such a young and ignorant child. Now, as a grown woman, she put her hair up in a bun, but at night, in the intimacy of their bedroom, she loosened it and caressed Arturo with the same love and affection through her raven-black long hair before kissing her goodnight. Sachiko had never used anything of makeup in her life. By the way, her husband always said that she possessed some kind of natural beauty, still blushing every time after the little complement like the young girl she had once been. Even before Arturo drank his cup of tea, the light went out in the conservatory and several things happened at once. Arturo and Sachiko were both surprised, both by the darkness and by the strange smell of the spray that came out of the nebulizer nozzles. Shocked, they wanted to run together to the exit of the greenhouse but their feet refused duty after a few shaky steps. The world began to turn in front of their eyes like a blurry image and they remained staggering, seeking support together. However, those last steps that removed them from the oxygen-rich and liberating evening air were no longer awarded to them. The delineated perimeter of the conservatory door disappeared into an ever-darkening fog before their eyes as they both fell unconscious among their orchids, lilies, bromeliads and other exotic plants that shared their love every day. ………. Slowly, the world came back in varying degrees of pain. It was beating like a nagging banging in the back of his head, a moping in his teeth, a dry throat begging for water, and his old bones that were apparently bruised in several places. It was an extremely tormented feeling all over his body that woke up from the anaesthetic. Arturo moaned softly when he opened his eyes. The light was too bright, flashed painfully like the sharp of a knife through his mind so he turned his head very carefully to the right. To his great dismay and fear, he saw that his wife Sachiko was in the same circumstances.. Like him, she was with both hands and feet tied to a chair. She sat next to him within reach. If he wasn't handcuffed, he could touch them like that. So close and yet so far apart. Tagged with a dirty cloth she too was slowly reeling and looked around her amazed and anxious. A surprised and troubled look appeared in her eyes when she noticed Arturo. Then the first musical sounds slipped through the space in which they were tied. The tones sizzled like glowing hot coals through their awakening bodies. Both Sachiko and Arturo, who could taste a piece of good classical music in different circumstances, regained consciousness on the sounds of a gloomy Requiem. That's a Mozart piece, it shot Sachiko in the head, almost at the same time as her husband recognized the piece of music. The familiar words sounded to them, but a throbbing headache prevented both from amazing at this music . Facts mixed with their tormented feelings. The Requiem of Mozart was the last and unfinished work of the Master, composed on his sick bed. It had been figuratively and literally his last composition, his requiem. One of those futile facts that shot through the spirit of Arturo. Something that barely mattered right now. He knew that Frans Xaver Süssmayr had composed this unfinished composition of Mozart into a legendary polyphonic piece of music. Why Arturo was thinking about that, he didn't know? Just a neurotransmitter that passed some information through a synapse into a human's head. A chemical reaction at a time when other things were much more important in their difficult situation. They heard the sounds and words of Lacrimosa , the sixth part of the Requiem of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart from various corners of the walls threatening to flow on them. Lacrimosa Dies Illa, In terms of Resurget Ex Favvilla Judicandus Gay Giant, On that day of tears To which the guilty man From the ashes will rise To be judged A theatrical figure dressed in a wide white robe entered the room and suddenly danced like an unreal ghost with swirling gestures around them. Arturo and Sachiko followed the creature with anxious eyes. In every tone of the death song he waved a samurai sword around them, between them, and finally hit them during that macabre dance occasionally with surefire blows. The shining weapon reflected light at every move and at every stroke. Flashing blows to injure, not yet to kill. As a conductor's measure, the white spirit used the razor-sharp weapon on the sounds of the song, like a master he felt and shielded to the rhythm of music. Lacrimosa Dies Illa, Cutting and carving. bumps and twists. The gag choked in part the screaming of pain, their begging for mercy. However, the blood flowed with every note, more and more in a gloomy crescendo, in a menacing climax. The white dress their executioner wore turned red, soaked with blood on the sounds of gloomy music. The song led to an inhumane tragic but certain death. And death danced like a devil around them! In terms of resurget Ex Favvilla Judicandus Gay Giant, Huic Ergo Parce Deus Pie Jesu, Domine, Dona Requirement Requiem. Then be merciful to him, Oh, God.! Dear Jesus, Lord, Give them peace. The life of Arturo Mitsukai and his wife Sachiko now flows very quickly into streams out of them. Their bodies had been torn and pieces of skin were hung up unmaterially on their bodies. In their blood-filled eyes there was no hope, almost no light left. Just a sputtering pilot that threatened to extinguish every moment. Dona Requirement Requiem . A plea! Give them peace! The white-red nightmare, which unfortunately was not a dream, straightened up in all its strength, ready for the last notes. The sword raised high above himself, and on the word 'Requiem' he pulled out with all his power for the final blow, beheaded his two victims with a smooth movement in one stroke with the razor-sharp Nihonto.. The final sung word of the Requiem shouted the form even louder than the voices of the choir several times, while the heads of Arturo and Sachiko rolled on the ground in front of his feet as a final release from their suffering. His ultimate satisfaction, their forgiveness in death! 'Amen, Amen, Amen!’ © Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere Requiem: Prologue or Chapter 1 - Requiem: Prologue - Requiem: Chapter 2 -