MaydayMarko
Lv3
just a young writer enjoying coffee and good books (and causing a bit of mayhem)
2023-09-25 BeigetretenGlobal
-d
Schreiben
3.9h
des Lesens
113
Bücher lesen
Abzeichen
5Augenblicke
71
MaydayMarko1dAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 60 The Phone Call- MaydayMarko22dAntwortet auf LesendeTaubeCh 10 Auf unser Sudetenland
- MaydayMarko22dAntwortet auf LesendeTaube
I am referring to fairytales like 'Aschenputtel' and 'Frau Holle' I don't know if you are familiar with either? Basically, Aschenputtel is Cinderella but she actually outsmarts the Prince, goes hunting with him ect. and he doesn't realize it's her at the ball, she is very different from Disney's Cinderella. In Frau Holle this old woman makes a girl do housework for ages, I don't even know if there is an equivalent fairytale of this in the US? I agree with you though, I should have made it clear that I was referring to Disney's interpretation of the tales...
Ch 10 Auf unser Sudetenland - MaydayMarko1mthAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 53 American Dream
- MaydayMarko2mthAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 51 The Georgian in the Russians skin
- MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf Microraptor
i like the black ice and his hair in the current :-)
"I think it's poetic." Vitia said again, taking up the conversation he himself had left off. "The third Reich is just like this...you can't see the outside world, although you're sure it's beautiful." He paused. "And although you hear and know that things are going forwards you can't feel it, not in the slightest. Excpet for the bumps in the road...those you feel very strongly, and every time they almost throw you against the enclosure which might creak but won't break..." Malinkow's explaination had taken a toll on Alistair. He started to feel the same way. He regarded his aquaintance with a new desire to learn more about him. The Soviet was obviously a writer, or even a poet, and not a bad one at that. Alistair, intrigued, waited for Vitia Malinkow to continue speaking, but the Russian didn't. He simply rested his head against the side of the wagon and stared at the wall. His eyeballs moved gently from left to right, as if he was watching the world race by outside. For some inexplicable reason, Alistair had the feeling that Malinkow could see the world outside. - MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf Microraptor
are you starting now? which major?
"I think it's poetic." Vitia said again, taking up the conversation he himself had left off. "The third Reich is just like this...you can't see the outside world, although you're sure it's beautiful." He paused. "And although you hear and know that things are going forwards you can't feel it, not in the slightest. Excpet for the bumps in the road...those you feel very strongly, and every time they almost throw you against the enclosure which might creak but won't break..." Malinkow's explaination had taken a toll on Alistair. He started to feel the same way. He regarded his aquaintance with a new desire to learn more about him. The Soviet was obviously a writer, or even a poet, and not a bad one at that. Alistair, intrigued, waited for Vitia Malinkow to continue speaking, but the Russian didn't. He simply rested his head against the side of the wagon and stared at the wall. His eyeballs moved gently from left to right, as if he was watching the world race by outside. For some inexplicable reason, Alistair had the feeling that Malinkow could see the world outside. - MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf Microraptor
I couldn't call myself that, my poetry is far too terrible. I'm like Vitia Malinkow, somewhere in between :-)
"I think it's poetic." Vitia said again, taking up the conversation he himself had left off. "The third Reich is just like this...you can't see the outside world, although you're sure it's beautiful." He paused. "And although you hear and know that things are going forwards you can't feel it, not in the slightest. Excpet for the bumps in the road...those you feel very strongly, and every time they almost throw you against the enclosure which might creak but won't break..." Malinkow's explaination had taken a toll on Alistair. He started to feel the same way. He regarded his aquaintance with a new desire to learn more about him. The Soviet was obviously a writer, or even a poet, and not a bad one at that. Alistair, intrigued, waited for Vitia Malinkow to continue speaking, but the Russian didn't. He simply rested his head against the side of the wagon and stared at the wall. His eyeballs moved gently from left to right, as if he was watching the world race by outside. For some inexplicable reason, Alistair had the feeling that Malinkow could see the world outside. - MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf Microraptor
hahhaa haven't heard that one in a while :-)
At two-thirty he left his office, swung the coat over his shoulders and marched out onto the streets of Berlin. Let the old friend be anyone but the Gestapo, please. Alistair prayed. - MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 48 Old Friend
- MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 46 Bundeskanzlerin Bittinger
- MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf indyw2003
- MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 45 A brief discussion about planning
- MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 45 A brief discussion about planning
- MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 44 Herr Braunschweig
- MaydayMarko3mthAntwortet auf MicroraptorCh 44 Herr Braunschweig