Stories from St. John Smith

Hi all,

I am pleased to introduced you new section I am adding to my blog and that is Stories. I am also pleased to post two stories from St. John Smith, good friend of mine. John is writing in czech so I will try to translate them in to English.

So I want to thank John the he allow me to publish them here. First there will be the story in czech and below in english.


Život

Žiju, pomyslel si Bob. Těšil se přítomnosti své matky Rózy. Byla to matka, která dávala život všem jeho druhu. Bob cítil teplo a lásku i když prostor kolem něj byl temný a chladný. Bob věděl, že vydat se vstříc neznámu by znamenalo jistou smrt.

Jednoho dne byla matka pryč, Bob věděl, že to jednoho dne příjde, už byl dospělý. Róza ho na tento okamžik přípravovala celý jeho dosavadní život.

Bob se vydal na cestu, která neměla dlouhého trvání. Byl chycen lovci a hozen do nádrže, kde byli jemu podobní a stejně vystrašení tvorové. Bob každopádně vědel, že se jeho osud naplnil a těšil se až se znovu setká s matkou Rózou.

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Life

I am alive, thought Bob. He enjoyed the presence of his mother Rose. Mother who gave life to all of his species. Bob felt the warmth and love even though the space around him was dark and cold. Bob knew that go toward the unknown would mean certain death.


One day his mother was gone, Bob knew that it will come one day. He was already an adult. Rose was preparing him for this moment his entire life.


Bob went on a journey that did not last long. He was caught by hunters and thrown into the tank. There where frightened creatures like hims. Bob, however, knew that his destiny is fulfilled. He was looking forward to be reunited with his mother Rose.


Cesta

Cesta, to je počátek a nebo konec, to nevím. Vím jen, že v tramvaji se špatně píše rukou. Nejspíš proto, že se tramvaj pěkně klepe a cuká. Tak proč inspirace ke psaní ke mně přichází právě  v tom elektrickém povozu?

Povoz plný lidských osudů a nenaplněných lásek. Nesmím zapomenout také na ty sumy vybrané revizory, kteří líčí pasti na nevinné cizince. To si je hned člověk představí jako pavouky čekající na mouchu až si sedne na upředenou síť.

To je moje cesta z práce, moje cesta vtříc budoucnosti.

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Path

Way, is it the beginning or the end? I do not know. I only know that writing in the tram is hard when you using pen and paper. Probably because the tram is pretty shaking and twitching. So why inspiration for writing comes to me exactly while i am in that electric carriage?

Carriage full of human fates and unfulfilled loves. Also I must not forget those amounts collected by the transport control, which setings traps for innocent foreigners. Then man can imagine them as spiders waiting for the fly to sit on the spider net.

This is my way home from work, my journey towards future.

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