KHCombe
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Everything posted by KHCombe
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For the first time in nine years of leaving the building behind him, someone was waiting for him to come outside. Mara was leaning against his bicycle, smiling a well-meant smile. Tristan found himself unable to appreciate her gesture, though. She’d intruded his privacy, even though he had told her so many times he didn’t want her to come here. Outside the hospital, where he was at his most vulnerable, he didn’t want to be seen by anyone he knew. That included his sweet and understanding wife,
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I'm very grateful for the fact that you seem to like my story. I won't make promises I cannot keep; life has caught up with me in a huge way. I am still not well at the moment, but I'm sure I'll get better in time. I have written a bit recently, so there will be an update. It really depends on how I'm feeling, though. With love
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Aw no, don't be disturbed I'm doing well, in comparison with a few weeks ago. I'm grateful for your warming reaction, and of course the compliments about my writing are humbling as ever. I'm glad to share
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Thanks for your sweet wishes and compliments At the beginning, writing proved to be a great means for distraction. Then, a month ago, it became impossible and now it's a pleasant distraction from pain etc. again. Nothing will stop me from writing ;-)
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“Kannst du dich nicht einfach entlieben? Bei mir ist es doch auch gegangen.“ Can’t you just fall out of love? Just like I did. Emma to her father - Eine aussergewöhnliche Affäre As peaceful as it had seemed before, the mood abruptly changed the moment both men released their hold. The kiss had actually tasted sweet, as one reads in cheesy romantic novels. It might had to do something with the fact they’d eaten pastry moments before, but it made the experience even more intense. It had been
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Don't leave, please don't leave ;-) I'll take my time indeed, and I'll need my time too. And yes, the Youtube clip is quite erotic I remember watching this interpretation for the first time (after having seen 3 performances of the opera) and thinking: "Eh, I really don't remember this...?"
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You're welcome to read it again, though I hope it isn't necessary because it's too complicated or something. And 'heavenly' is a big, big compliment. Thanks
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Thanks, thanks again and again It's my pleasure to share.
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Oh gosh *blushes* Thank you so much! Or at least, I think your reference to the opening flower is positive, right? Le Poème Harmonique is brilliant, if I'm not mistaken there's a long video of them playing Lully (journees aux chateaux des Versailles) on Youtube. There are some really nice bits around the forty-one minute mark! I hope the story's good enough to keep you interested. Graag gedaan! ;-)
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Thank you very much, it's wonderful to hear it's actually hard to stop reading the story. The musical references are not all well known, but they are certainly worth looking up. Glad to teach you some geography too ;-)
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He didn’t like going to sleep alone. The presence of another body in the double bed prevented him from falling in the trap of overanalyzing. Nightly thinking was disastrous; there was plenty of time to beat oneself down. Sleepless nights usually weren’t spent thinking about the pleasant things in life. No, those hours were saved for spiraling into – more than literal – darkness. This night was dominated by half-awake dreams about Sigurd, a crying Mara and two arms hugging him into suffocation.
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Yay, go Mike! She was from my hometown, she's still worshipped there. I don't really know why, though, but I've seen the costume in real life
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Enough complications indeed, including the fact I posted the chapter way earlier than planned (got to love my technical skills). Thanks for the compliment, and I hope you'll enjoy reading more! With love
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Around 9.00 in the morning he had waved his wife and children goodbye as they left for Utrecht. Mara came from the city, as did her parents. Tristan had offered to come along, considering he was told not to work this week, but she had told him to rest. It was probably for the best, but it was a pity he couldn’t meet up with his parents-in-law. They were a very kind and well educated couple. Instead he spent the day cleaning the house, watching some television and preparing for the movie-night
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Mara had already gone to bed when he’d arrived home. No wonder: her decision to breastfeed their second child was taking its toll. If he owned a milk-producing breast, Tristan would have been more than happy to take over her nightly feeds. Unfortunately he didn’t. The therapy session had haunted him the entire night. Paul hadn’t looked angry after his confession, probably because he had to stay in his role as a psychiatrist. He had confessed though, something he never ever thought he’d do. It f
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Pianti, sospiri (IV) - Vivaldi, sung by the wonderfully adorable Philippe Jaroussky.
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Hereby I join the crowd of admirers! The first time I went to a concert of a big band I was 8 years old, and the man beside me asked if my parents made me go. Since then I've gone to the concerts of The Jazz Orchestra of the Concertgebouw every year. I love Dave Brubeck, Oscar Peterson and Bill Evans. Can't really put one song forward as my favorite, though. One I've listened to a lot the past few days is this (more recent) piece: Zombie, that clip of Dudley Moore is brilliant!
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“Daddy!” “Daan!” Tristan scooped up his son as soon as he’d seen his mother coming through the front door. She was pushing a stroller in which Sara lay, sleeping, and judging by the amount of bags that were hanging from it, she’d bought way too many presents for her grandchildren. Christine Mulder was a friendly looking woman in her early sixties. Not so keen on dyeing her hair, she wore her grey locks in a casual bun. She had been working as a primary school teacher for more than thirty years
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Thanks for the review
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It had started raining again, halfway between the school and his home. The ferry had arrived at a quarter past nine and it had taken about half an hour for everyone to drive to the city centre. They had all said goodbye to each other before going their own way again. After all, it wasn’t summer break just yet. Him, Sylvia and Ernest had agreed to meet at Sylvia’s place on Wednesday evening, around seven o’clock. Depending on the weather they’d possibly go for a drink on Tuesday too, when Mara c
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I stand by my opinion; the story isn't too complicated. Maybe it isn't suitable for someone who just wants to read something light-hearted, but I still like it a lot. The detailed descriptions of thought (as opposed to physical features) are very interesting. Luke isn't too weird; I actually find his lack of self-control when it comes to talking very amusing. Maybe he's very troubled, but I'll have to wait to be sure of that. His 'system of answering', however, does make him seem....well, unique ;-) Looking forward to the next chapter!
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I really hope to see a South-American 'pyramid' someday (I'm not too picky about which culture ). I've seen the Akropolis with the Parthenon already, and yes, it's beautiful (I hope that's what you meant, slytherin?) If you could only choose one form of transport to use the rest of your life, what would it be? (car, plane etc.)
