I still had the chubby cheeks of children and sleep in flannel pajamas that wallowed in the innocence of my duvet. The storm had growled like a big bear that burden, forcing a sudden my eyes to raise their eyelashes. My eyes and discovered could not hold my unfinished dream which came to concentrate on my bedroom wall scrolls in pouting.
I hold my breath and my hands shook up my sheets to prevent their wrinkling does not let me hear it. I thought that this big bear was there for me. I was not scared, just focused, listening offered to each of its sounds to decode the message.
I felt float out and fight against the tornado to reach my window. The wind had swollen fists hitting the muzzle him whenever he approached it because I heard him grumble even more. I saw the legs of the storm slammed back over the big chestnut tree in the yard. I guessed spitting and drooling, protruding teeth, hair tousled and ears flattened against his head. He fought like a valiant andabate and each roar him back to me. Clinque heard his sword against the armor of thunder. The sparks of fire that flashed in, changing into bright light filaments traversant ma chambre d’une fenêtre à l’autre. Le gros ours devenait mon héros au milieu de cette nuit oragée. Plus il grognait, plus les éclats lumineux de son épée illuminaient mon lit et au travers de la vitre, j’apercevais son ombre quand leur lutte soudain changeait la nuit en jour.
Mes petites mains serraient toujours le haut de mes draps quand un énorme bruit déchira le monde et résonna dans tout mon corps. Au même instant une grosse boule de feu courut devant mon lit d’une fenêtre à l’autre, puis disparut. Je compris alors que mon ours venait de vaincre toute l'armée de foudre en la chassant d’un coup de sabre. Sans plus attendre, je me précipitais à la fenêtre. Le vent, la pluie, la nuit s’éloignaient en boitant et les feuilles des arbres applaudissaient la lune. Moi, je cherchais mon ours, mon héros, mon ami, mais je ne vis qu’une branche qui caressait le mur.
0 comments:
Post a Comment