Second writing contest by “Speak Freely”

Piroshki
by prprpr
Аркадий не любил пробежки, Паркур, экстрим, адреналин – Но два соседских добермана Раскрыли в нём потенциал. стою пред бюстом нефертити, глаза не в силах оторвать – немного левый поддаётся, а правый, гадина, нейдёт не бойтесь: этому цунами ещо до суши двести миль... ну хорошо, сто девяносто... сто пятьдесят... аааа Любимая, пойдем посмотрим собранье бабочек моих, и самых лучших и красивых я помещу тебе в живот за похвалу тебе спасибо, тебя я тоже похвалю: есть у тебя талант похвальный хвалить достойных похвалы ты знаешь, правда как наркотик, храни ее лишь для себя: когда ее распространяешь, то ты проблема для людей искусствоведов группа тихо, восторженно глядит на холст. и вдруг один седой и строгий отчетливо сказал: «говно» когда тебе четыре года, а всем вокруг по пятьдесят, по многу раз простые вещи приходится им объяснять домой уже я еду мама мне надо что нибудь купить купи себе квартиру сволочь живи отдельно от меня когда я стал половозрелый то женщин сразу поделил на тех которых недостоин и тех которых не хочу Arcadiy was not into jogging, parkour, adrenaline, extreme, But giant pitbull of his neighbor Made all these limits disappear i'm looking at the Nefertiti and can not tear my eyes away well I've just torn the right one though the left one does not give its way Come on, this terrible tsunami Is many miles away from land Two hundred miles are left, don't worry it's now just twenty oh my god Oh honey, I just want to show you How many butterflies I have I want to give you just the best ones So you would have them in your stomach I truly thank you for your praises And I would love to praise you back, Your magic and praiseworthy talent To pray the ones who must be praised The truth is like marijuana Just keep it only for yourself And when you spread it all around It causes problems and so on A quiet group of fine art experts Is looking at the canvas keenly And one of them, who’s stern and earnest Dictinctly uttered: that’s a shit When you’re four, and all around Are in their fifties then you have to explicate the simplest matters to them oh god so many times hi mom, i’m going back home do you need something i could buy go buy a flat you stupid bastard i’m fed up that you live with me when I became an adolescent i had the women classified to women who I am too bad for and to the ones who I want... not /ˌædəˈlɛsənt/ /mariˈhwana/

/ˈdʒaɪənt/

Second writing contest by “Speak Freely”

Friends with benefits
by Anna Palautetta Dear passengers! Flight to New York is delayed. I was rushing to catch this flight, and it’s delayed, ain’t it ironic? It’s gonna be the first moment of respite after a messy /ˈrespət/ week. I looked around and inhaled the airport’s vibes. What do you do when you can’t carry emotional burden anymore? I flee, and it helps. You return with a luggage of new memories, stories and friends, and your past doesn’t hurt you anymore. In the doorway of the new life I feel confident again: so it’s time to break the silence and save our friendship!
“Dear friend, I loved the closing line of your last letter: “Don't  follow the men. Just keep walking your track. There will be someone  who happens to have same route and this is right kind of travel  buddy.” It’s the advice of a wise man and true friend. Life is bigger  than love and I am heading to New York waiting for the fresh wind of  new places and adventures.  I asked you to not write me, but I missed  sharing my thoughts with you and your witty remarks. Let’s start  /'erəgən(t)s/ writing to each other again.”

After hesitating a while, I sent the message. This story is the right punishment for my arrogance. I thought I was too sane to get deep into the affair with a man with 3 kids, living miles away from me, commuting to Russia to work. I was even glad he’s already married. Otherwise I could’ve started taking it seriously, and it would’ve complicated my life. I wanted just pure fun without any plans. When you know in advance what happens, you can relax and enjoy the present. Arrogant assumption, that I was the master of the situation and my feelings, was my sin. Incoming message:
“Don't follow men... Correct choice even though I am the one missing  you most. Well, you’ll be back. Full of life and many adventures  richer. I want you to see the world, enjoy, be happy and then come  back and tell your stories.”

Damn! Being focused on my pain, I forgot what a good guy he is! I forgot I’d complicated his life as well. It started not even as fun, but as charity. He was lost in his middle-age crisis, approaching his 40th anniversary, having reached everything a man of this age is supposed to reach (money, career, family, kids), but he kept on asking himself: “why doesn’t it feel like happiness?” I knew the answer. “You had everything except fun, baby”. I was the embodiment of everything that he desired and needed, and we both /im'bɒdimənt/ knew it. Obviously hugely attracted to me, he was not daring, however, to risk our 6-monthsold friendship. Good guy. It was me who added “benefits” to our friendship. Not just for charity, of cause. I liked him, but arrogantly I was sure he needed this story more than me. I thought it would prevent all stupid things a middle-aged man can make, including the divorce and marrying a girl 10 years younger. I had no such bad intentions, it was just fun for me and rescue out of routine boredom for him. And each /rʊ'ti:n/ time I was making him work on getting me into bed (trust me, and you will get not just

Second writing contest by “Speak Freely”
sex to remember but story worth remembering). I don’t know how we’ve reached the point when I heard: “I miss talking to you, you pull me into bed all the time”. I suffocated. It was so far from the initial concept. Still I could joke: ”Should I be flattered for being considered as so interesting person or insulted for being so bad lover?” . Soon the jokes were over. He hurt me, although not on purpose, I’ve attempted to break up, soon got back with a white flag and the revelation came: “This isn’t lust, this is love”. And now I’m fleeing out of this trap to set us free and give him chance to fix his marriage. I’m not saint, I would’ve competed with his wife, but not with his 3 kids. Boarding. Enough excursions to the past. It’s just the base for the future, and the flight across the ocean is a bridge. Divine voice of singer Adele came reassuring: “Never mind. I will find someone like you. I wish nothing but the best for you”. Exactly. It’s always easier to take the road if you know you’re not the first on it. Somehow I felt it was not vain, I was one step closer to something beautiful that life had already prepared for me. Falling asleep, I saw the marvelous lights of New York beckoning me.

Second writing contest by “Speak Freely”

Dare to live
by Liger “Life”! This very word Reveals so much and hides a lot Is this a game? A play? A war? What is to win? What is to lose? One thing of which we can be sure A road to follow is for us to choose. The sun rises every day And so do we, to play our part It may require the lion’s heart Not to break down the will halfway. If we had known which path to take And answers had been unconcealed, Then happiness would be a fake, No secrets would have been revealed. For happiness is to achieve What you’ve been struggling for so long With love and courage twined in the belief: “This is my game, to this world I belong”. And soon as we have understood The beauty of this moment, It slips away with no return, for good, Leaving just memories which are sometimes a torment This is the case of hesitation Postponing everything you love This is the time procrastination Throws down its tricky glove. It’s up to you to win the bout To squeeze the day or miss your chance Since life has always been about Between “dreams and actions” dance… They who have no dancing skills End up, as usual, in misery with pills Blaming everyone around For having missed even the round “I wish I could have lived elsewise”, Said an old man with a sigh, “How many things I didn’t have the guts to try, But now, too late…” Therefore, my friends, be wise…

/'torment/

Second writing contest by “Speak Freely”

In anticipation of the oncoming summer
by Breather ‘To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world’. This is what a British explorer and distinguished travel writer Freya Stark said travelling through the Orient. I also keep in my heart this feeling which overwhelms you when you open your eyes in the morning and breathe in sweet air filled with the sense of mystery and suspense. But there is one thing without which I couldn’t be completely happy, this is my home that misses me and waits for me wherever I go.

/sʌs'pens/

It is so important for me to have a place where I can relax and forget about everything that makes me anxious. I adore lying with a book on the breathtaking picture of the French Riviera which is printed on the upholstery of my sofa; or watch my mum /ˌrɪvɪ'ɛərə/ cooking her mouthwatering masterpieces in the maze of rainbow-coloured kitchen units. In the night, when my room seems to be haunted, I snuggle under my blanket and peer through the darkness till I find myself in a peaceful dream. And every time I wake up here, a fascinating little angel greets me with a friendly smile of its thin peachcoloured lips, and this is the first thing that comes up to my mind when I think of my room being overseas. This angel is my father’s present, and I am dubious about whether words can convey its beauty and quaintness. The angel adorns one of my bookshelves and twinkles like a huge opal. Having been tied in a bow, a small satin ribbon is lost among the golden silky hair which frames her chubby freckled face. In the afternoon, the sun shines through the curtains and glistens on its glowing wings making them sparkle like stained-glass windows of a fairy-tale castle. Her spangled dress is lavishly decorated with lilac-coloured roses which are glued to its waist. The stems of these roses are made of crystal bugles and beads threaded on strings which trail reaching the hem of the dress. For me, this statuette has become the symbol of unclouded happiness and childish gladness. It lightens my mood and reminds me of the importance of being in harmony with the place you live in because one who isn’t cannot be in harmony with his mind and soul. /'dju:bɪəs/

/'laɪlək/ /'bjuːgl/ /ˌstætʧu'et/

Now the light-green sandals of the angel and the sky-blue orchid squeezed in its hand /'ɔːkɪd/ fill my heart with anticipation of the oncoming summer, but I already know that even if I fall in love with the places I’m going to, I’ll always feel that my home misses me and wants me to enter it again and smile to my charming little angel that will certainly smile back.

Second writing contest by “Speak Freely”

Sonnets
by Der Graf Sonnet #1 dedicated to my beloved girl Our Lord, who once created universe, By whom planets were run and stars were lit, Made thee. Oh, woman, such a pleasant curse, Thou art by nature beautiful and sweet. Thy smile that maketh everybody bloom Mayth be both innocent and truly serpentine. God knoweth, happy is the one to whom Thou givest thy beauty and the love of thine. And when time cometh for me to leave this world Shall never I consider life a waste The only thing my mind will try to hold Is that fine image of thy scent and taste. We two were made for one another. Now We both shall understand the fact… somehow. Sonnet #2 dedicated to all women of the world Almighty kings, their vassals, and the Gods Are powerful, unbreakable and strong. Your power is higher, for by words You’ve been controlling most of us so long. It is amazing that a weaker one Can be victorious by simple giving in. Fragility is charming and may stun Then man retreats and this is how you win. What oxymoron! Those who are infirm At times a great deal stronger may become To tranquilize by words a violent storm Or to provoke it so that it brings harm. The greatest wonder in the universe Is woman that’s the subject of this verse. /səpən'taɪn/

/fræ'ʤɪlətɪ/
/ɒksɪˈmɔːɹɒn/

Second writing contest by “Speak Freely”

Dear you
by Jane Doe ...Do you remember I told you you look like a Russian and I could even say how you'd be named if you were one? That's just because I know someone Russian who looks exactly like you. Can you imagine the torture to see him every week within arm's reach and know he's not you, not nearly like you, despite the same way he looks like, the same head that /gi:kɪ/ he is higher than me, a voice alike, and the same geeky T-shirts..? Can you imagine the torture of waiting for your letters that gets worse with every peek /ʤɪ'meɪl/ at the gmail indicator in my browser, with every mail check that's destined to result in finding work or spam or university issues? Can you imagine the torture of going through the photos of us when I feel lonely and worrying about you and knowing that I can't help you in trouble, can't even get closer, not mentioning the all the unbelievable little tender things that the couples tease me with everywhere I can see them? Can you imagine the torture of thinking whether you really liked my present or not? of guessing what you really feel towards me? of being sorry I love you that much? of wanting to see, hear, smell and -touch you again and realizing it can't happen now and might never happen at all? Can you imagine the joy of finally breaking all the obstacles (with a cheat and a couple of minor misdemeanors) and getting to see you again, just for several days? The unbearable lightness, the nearly-happiness, the impatience to meet you? Can you feel what I felt at the very moment I saw who I was dreaming about for the damned 2,246,640 minutes? I was as happy as I have never been, on the one hand, and as nervous as I have never been, on the other, because despite your letters that always reflected your interest, you might have lost the need in me (if I had't made it up in the first place), you might not be feeling the same, you might have even grown afraid of my feelings. But the next moment I see you coming and taking me into your hands, and asking anxiously if I was OK, and kissing me on my wet eyes. I am observing the mountains I've conquered from my cozy shelter on the very highest point, knowing food and bed are waiting for me, but I can hardly see anything behind the tears.