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Old 10-21-2017, 08:54 AM View Post #1 (Link) my first short story (not finished)
tomerch (Offline)
Literary Newbie
Join Date: Oct 2017
Posts: 1
Points: 5
Times Thanked: 0
Hey Everyone,
Im from Israel and I just wanted to hear your opinions on my first unfinished short story I just wrote Please give some feedbacks and tips. Thanks

Here it is: (please remember I translated it from Hebrew lol)

Standing on the highest mountain, one that has not yet been discovered, one that I will not be found in it.
And I'm wet, the rain falls on me and I'm soaked, but I stay standing, looking out at the trees, at the forest below me, feeling the sharp stones injure my feet, the wet sand between my fingers, and I play with it, feeling the sand with the toes of my feet That I'm shrinking them because of the cold,
And I close eyes.
If I were somewhere else now, I would try to imagine myself here. This is perfect. This is far from everyone.
The wind gets stronger, and my hair which is almost straight but curly hides my face, so I do not feel my own tears anymore. Smiling and screaming. Screaming so hard that my lungs burn and my throat dries.

"Why do you think this is your happy place?" Ronnie asked.
For a moment I forgot that it was just a story, that I was not really there, that I was lost again in my dreams while I was awake.
"Because I invented it, I followed what my heart and head led me to until I discovered the perfect place to dream about," I answered.
I liked coming to Ronnie. I liked the combination of the brick wall with the dark brown parquet, the big window that looked out over the city I hated so much, but I was so tall and far away in my hours with Ronnie, I did not care.
The silence became almost embarrassing and I waited for him to finish recording everything I had told him, from the private library of my head. I watched him write. He was just as I had always imagined a psychologist should look: an adult, but not too much for not hearing me well, short curly gray hair and a little beard. Not too thin, not fat, wearing custom-made pants (always navy blue) and some sweater you will not find in any store.
"Not yet. I still do not understand why you're here, "he replied.
I chuckled slightly. "Another one who does not understand," I thought.
"Do you hear a lot of patients come here and tell a story like that? Being away from everyone and almost invisible? "I asked cynically
"No. And I do not see many patients who come here and think there's something wrong with them, when theres nothing wrong. "
Again the embarrassing silence, only this time we looked straight at each other with our eyes.
 I had nothing to say.
"I have nothing to say," I finally said.
The silence continued.
"Tell me your most personal secret," he said after a few seconds that I could swear that they felt like eternity.
"I just told you"
"Not a fantasy, not a dream, something real. Something that happened, something you've experienced. "
It took me a while to think about it. Could it be that only in my dreams am I interesting? Could it be that I do not have a "big thing" to tell? It's going to hurt me in so many interviews and collage applications... damn it.
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