A short story
(The giftedness) It had the snowed all day. The forest stretched away on all sides of the road. It was quiet, had up on the occasional call of an owl sitting high in the branches of the pines and prepare for their nightly hunt, the slight rustling of the wind in the trees and the crunch of his shoes on the frozen ground.
He wandered for hours through the night already, painfully struggling through the snow drifts. He was tired. Hunger and thirst tormented him. And he was cold terribly in his dress, everything was just not adjusted to the weather conditions.
When he was broken early in the morning on his walk, had nothing on this sudden change of weather . Close Apart from the locals ... which would have probably know ... and if he was honest, he had to admit that he had been modified over breakfast at the hotel but warned somehow. But these well-intended information he had just beaten in the wind like the warnings of the old men he had learned about yesterday evening at the hotel bar and that he had told of his plan, a long hike through the High Moor to make ...
Even the hint, but not in winter loszugehen without a guide, he had dismissed as a kiddie and simply ignored. Mentally he had done it ridiculous, yes mothered almost to a leader or even to join a larger group.
It did not help .... He had brewed the soup and he would also have to spoon. It would be ridiculous if he did not find the hotel ...
Slowly but broke one night on this vast plateau, and the thick blanket of snow had the landscape been so uniform that really a corner of the other possible ... Did not he just already crossed exactly this way? Again, this spruce grove he was still known before somehow ... or not?
It was heartbreaking, and gradually he had to admit he had lost his way and absolutely no idea where he just was. He was trembling all over and the reason was not just the cold, which is now where it was dark, had strengthened again ....
course he had not thought to bring along a flashlight, he wanted to be a long night come home again. And now he had to in the glow of his lighter look for a path through the forest. Although the snow reflected the small flame, but he could not avoid stumbling over again or even to fall, because he here and there, roots, stones or small bumps on the ground overlooked. Several times already he had slipped from the wooden bridges that were built in part on the roads. At last fall, he had a painful cut on the right shin drawn ... He felt his pants by the blood from the wound
stuck ... And then it happened again ... A moment of inattention and it really stuck again ankle deep in mud. The High Fens was traversed by such a moor-like sections, from which the locals used to have still won won peat for heating ... He was interested in this now less, but only and alone concerned him the question, how should he come out ... It did not help. The more he tried, the deeper he sank to his left leg a ... Finally he managed to free his foot again, but his shoes remained in the mud His search was unsuccessful stuck ... ... the shoe was gone ...
It took a minute and his sock was soaked ... Now he grabbed the naked panic. How could he ever survive this?
He trudged on through the snow, praying softly to himself. Should this be the end? He, who wanted to make a career of life was still to come, he should fail in this oh-so-simple test?
He thought of his family he had left for this short vacation at home. He wanted to be alone again, he had said at parting. He wanted to refuel. Thinking about one or the other thoroughly.
He wished his Would love for him. What would he say anything to them? When he had told them the last time that he loved her, that he could not live without them? It was a long time ago that he had to admit ...
And the fight with his wife last Sunday ... from the current view was he was absolutely unnecessary. A trifle, which he once again had excited her. What was it for? He could not at first remember it until it suddenly occurred to him again: his wife had once complained that he was so rarely home and never take care of the children ... Once again, the conversation escalated until they are at end of all the Head had thrown ... Not a good thing! The day after he had left sulking ... His wife had said nothing ....
He wandered here through this inhospitable region ... He would call here and now .. Why had not previously thought of it. He felt really stupid ... a call and he could probably see and get to safety ... He patted his pockets: the pants, the shirt, the jacket to find ... nothing. Where was this damn phone? Earlier, he had always cursing the bone phone, because they were so unwieldy, and each jacket bulge ... now they had become so small that he apparently had difficulty in his device The track ... but could not be, right? He was always hectic, but took time in all the pockets .. But his idea was bad: it seems certain he had lost. In any case he could find it nowhere ...
The despair of his precarious position could shoot the tears in his eyes. He fell to the ground and wept bitterly ...
They found him in the spring after the snow melt ... his features petrified, cramped hands ... and his cell phone, which was only three feet away from him under a root. The darkness and fear, it did not let him see!
the author: André Leyens, born 1963, is born in the German-French Belgium. Université de Liège - Belgium - he studied engineering and graduated from the Civil Engineering Electromécanicien, Tendance Mécanique (Dipl.-Ing). After six years as a manager, he settled for the Money train coach. Today he practices, "Finance to touch" - as a consultant, trainer and guest lecturer at the European University of Applied Sciences (EUFH) Brühl. Leyens is a single father, played football and badminton in his spare time and played with friends. Another passion is reading. He is a blogger and money committed to education in finance - so that everyone understand and fun can have it: http://www.fizuma.blogspot.com/ ; http://www.av-fizuma.blogspot.com/ ;
http://www.kids-fizuma.blogspot.com/
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