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setembro 09, 2005
#3 the sound of water
One day he roamed further than he had ever gone, much further than he had intended. The sky was darkening when he turned towards home; there was no time to watch anything except the shady, unfamiliar road. It was a still, chill, stormy evening; the birds had gone to their nests; there was no sound in the air except... Hendrik listened intently. He did not want to believe what he had heard, but he knew only too well what it was. It was the sound of water. Nothing much - only a trickle - but Hendrik knew what it would mean. He knew that the tricke would soon become a gurgle, then there would be a gush, then a rush, a roar, and the North Sea would sweep in.
For a moment he stood bewildered. It was growing dark, hard to see, harder to locate a small leak in the dike. Finally he found it - a few feet from the ground - he could just reach it. It was, as he suspected a small leak, small enough to be stopped with one finger.
At first he was not worried. He even felt a little heroic, elated to see that the finger of a small boycould hold the mighty waters in check. Besides, he thought, it will not be long; someone is sure to pass by, see what is happening, and get men to repair the damage.But the stillness continued, stillness and loneliness. As the night came on Hendrik grew colder. His hand pained him; there were cramps in his arm; soon his entire side felt numb. He could not tell how long he had been there; hours seemed to pass; he called and cried, but there was no answer. No help came.
Publicado por inesf às setembro 9, 2005 03:24 PM