Every day, I must wait for the bus for about 20 minutes at the station. It's the time when I have to change bus lines on the way to my company where I work.

Always, when I saw him come to the bus station, I couldn't help staring at him. It was as if I had known him already for ages though we had never spoken any words to each other. 

He never noticed me even though I was always sitting on a bench opposite him, just some steps far away. 

He always followed the same routine when he came to the bus station.

He went the same bench, sat down, put his briefcase to his side and a red rose on it and started reading a newspaper.

He rarely looked up while reading, and so I had the opportunity secretly to observe him.

 He was handsome, elegantly dressed in a suit, and he wore a hat. There was something in his facial expression that fascinated me. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes.

He wasn't a young man anymore. I guessed him to be about fifty. His temples were grey, and his beard showed some grey highlights. 

Sometimes he looked at me without realizing it. It seemed as if he was looking through me into another world.

The first few times when he looked at me, I smiled and nodded my head as if greeting him. He never noticed it at all. 

He seemed to be far away. I felt quite uncomfortable and blushed and stopped greeting him.

I wondered for whom the rose was and where he was going. 

I imagined a love story between him and a mysterious lady.

The time went on. Every day, the same routine for three months. 

Sitting on the same bench opposite me, he read the newspaper. The briefcase and the rose lay next to him.

When he saw the bus coming, he stood up from the bench, threw away the newspaper into the waste paper bin, took the rose and the briefcase and got into the bus. 

One day, sitting on the bench, I was waiting for the bus and also for the man's arrival as usual, but the man didn't appear.

I wondered what might have happened to him that he did not come anymore.

Time went by. I couldn't forget him because his sad eyes were still in my mind, as was the image of how his hand had held the red rose.

I wanted really to know what had happened to him.

Some weeks later, on a beautiful sunny summer day, I met my best friend downtown. 

I was happy meeting her because we hadn't seen each other for a long time. 

My friend is a nurse at the hospital in my city. We meet each other very rarely because she works in shifts, and she also lives in another town.

She is married to a doctor from the same hospital where she works.

It was my friends day off. Her husband was on a business trip, and so she had time.

We went to our favourite ice cream shop. We had not been there for ages.

We choose a table outside the ice cream shop, sat down and ordered something when the waiter came.

Some subjects needed talking about, we joked around and ate a lot of ice cream.

Suddenly, I saw in the distance a man coming in the direction of the ice cream shop.

I was shocked by his appearance. For a short moment, I wasn't sure whether it was he or not, but when he came closer, I recognized him.

He was the man from the bus station.

It was to see that he had lost weight, and his eyes no longer looked as sad as before.

I wasn't aware that I stared at him, and fortunately, he also did not notice it.

The man took a seat next to us and beckoned to the waiter. When I noticed myself intrusively staring at him, I turned my head away.

Turning my head around, I saw my friend looking wonderingly at me.

"Do you know this man?" she asked me. "No, I don't," I answered. "At least not personally. I always saw him at the bus station when I was waiting for the bus," I continued. 

"I always wondered where he was going with a rose in his hand. I haven't seen him for weeks, and now I am a little shocked to see how he looks. I had to look twice to recognize him. He has become so thin!".

I avoided speaking too loudly to her because I was afraid of being overheard by him. My friend answered also whispering. 

"I know that man," she said. "And I can tell you where he was going those days when you saw him at the bus station."

I looked surprised at my friend. "You know him?" I asked. "Yes, I do," she replied. "The story is very touching and sad," she continued with a sighing voice. 

I asked my friend to tell me what happened to this man.

"Well," she said, "One day, we got a new patient at my department of the hospital. The patient was a woman. When the ambulance brought her, she was unconscious. Her husband, very excited, told us that when he had come home from work in the evening, she lay on the floor in the sitting room of the house. She didn't move anymore, and he was afraid she had died. Immediately, he checked her pulse and noticed, relieved, it was still pulsing. No sooner had he hung up from the emergency call than an ambulance arrived with a doctor. The examination revealed a severe stroke." 

My friend paused.

"Oh, my God!" I said. "It must have been frightening for him not to have been able to help her."

 "Yes," said my friend," and he repeatedly blamed himself for not having come home earlier. That day, he was looking for a gift for his beloved wife, because the next day was the couple's 25th wedding anniversary."

"Who would have guessed something like that?" I said to my friend.

"You are right," she replied, "that's the same thing we told him, too, several times."

"What happened then?" I asked.

My friend looked at me and continued, " For the first ten days, she remained unconscious. Her husband stayed day and night at her bedside. Sometimes, when I had a night shift, and I was looking after her, I would see him with his head on her bed, sleeping and hold her hand. When he didn't sleep, he would speak to her with a warm, tender voice, and sometimes he would hum a song like a lullaby for children. One day when I had an early shift in the hospital, I came up to the sickroom where the woman was lying. The man's head lay on her bed again; suddenly, she opened her eyes. She looked surprisingly around and looked, first, questioningly at me, before she noticed her husband. Slowly, she took her hand and laid it on his head. I could see how she tried to speak but couldn't. The stroke had paralyzed the region of her brain that was responsible for speaking."

My friend paused again.

"And what happened then?", I asked curiously and impatiently.

"The man awoke, stood up, bent over her with tears in his eyes, and kissed her. ", my friend continued. "Good morning, my sweetheart," he said, "finally, you woke up."

"What happened then?" I asked again, impatiently.

"I don't know because I left the room, looking for a doctor," said my friend. "When I came back with the doctor, I saw the couple, sitting on the bed and holding each other in the arms.

The doctor told the man to go home and come back the next day. The examinations would take all day, and it wouldn't help her if her husband collapsed.

The man left the hospital. From that day on, he came every morning with a red rose, sat on her bed, stroking her. He read to her something before he went to work. In the afternoon, after work, he would come back to her and only went home when she had fallen asleep."

My friend paused again. Then she continued, "One day, the doctor asked the man to come to the office. Later, when the man came out of the office, he stopped in the passage to the sick rooms and cried bitterly. 

I pitied him. I knew why he cried and what the doctor had told him. They had found a tumour in the woman's brain. The brain tumour had been the trigger for the stroke.

"To make a long story short," said my friend with a sigh. "Some days later, the doctors wanted to operate and remove the woman's tumour, but one day, before the planned surgery, she had a stroke again. No one had expected the second stroke because she was under medical supervision. After the second stroke, she couldn't move the left side of her body anymore, was very weak, so that the doctors couldn't operate on the tumour in her brain. Her husband visited her each day of her stay at the hospital and brought her a red rose."

My friend sighed again. "You know? Never in my entire life, have I seen people speak with their eyes as they both did. They must have loved each other very much. She lay in the hospital for three months without getting better. Her husband decided to bring her back home. He quit his job and since that day he has cared for her."

Deeply touched by the story, I looked to the side where the man sat. 

I saw him still sitting at the table, the legs stretched out, and his face turned to the sun as if he wanted to absorb new energy. I was surprised to see a smile on his face.

He was still sitting in that position when my friend and I left the ice cream shop.

A few months later, I was waiting for the bus at the bus station, when I saw the man again, this time accompanied by a woman.

The man looked much better than he had at that time I had seen him at the ice cream shop.

The woman by his side was beautiful. She wore a white-black dress and similarly-coloured shoes and handbag. Her skin was as pale as if she had not seen the sun for a long time.

The couple waited for the same bus line the man had taken at that time when he had visited his wife at the hospital.

When the bus arrived, he helped her get in. She nodded her head to him gratefully, with a smile on her lips. 

I followed the bus with my eyes until it turned the next corner.

I couldn't help phoning my friend, the nurse, to ask her if she knew any news about the couple.

 I learned from my friend that the woman's health condition had become stable under his care. So it was possible to examine her again.

The tumour turned out to be benign, and the doctors could successfully remove it without subsequent complications. The risk of suffering a renewed stroke, the physicians rated as very low.

That day when I saw him with his wife at the bus station, the woman had her last follow-up appointment after surgery.

That day was the last day I saw the man. Always, when I wait for the bus at the bus station, I see him in my mind, sitting opposite me on that bench, the briefcase with a red rose on top, next to him.

Dear MyEC members.

The following sentences are not only my participation on the test but also my sincere belief.
I wanted not only take part in Onee-chan's challenge but also use the grammar rules correctly.

Women are not only wives, daughters and mothers, but also personalities and single individuals.

Women should not only think about their appearance but also cultivate their mental education.

Men should not only ask for being served but also help themselves.

Children should not only learn but also play.

We should not only complain about everything but also do something to make it better.

We all should not only tell the people what they did wrong but also help them to do better.

Not only a balanced diet but also adequate movement is the key to a healthy life.

I hope there are not too many mistakes in my writing.

I want to be kind and I want to keep straight,
I want to lose some kilos of weight.
I want to be more happy with all my dears,
and I want to lose some of my fears.

I want to visit many places on earth,
that is my dream since the day of my birth.
I want to be healthy as long as possible,
the melody of life should be always audible.

I am still looking to find my right way,
I want to find friendship, not only to play.
I want to give my hand to someone who needs,
not only with words but always with deeds.

My life shouldn't be dull, it should be more exciting.
If I want to be happy, I have to keep fighting.
I want to find the balance between busy and calm,
and if I feel sadness, I wish to find comfort and balm.

Following we can't plan but we always can hope,
and maybe one day, we are going to cope,
to make our earth as the most peaceful place,
where no one cares about religion, origin, and race.

I know very exactly, that is not easy to make,
the walls of the wars are not simply to break.
But, someday, there will fly again the white dove,
to bring everyone peace, and freedom, and love.

Please, don't correct the mistakes in this my writing, they are wanted because they are a part of Danny's challenge.

And here is my story, I hope you enjoy.

Let me say, I am a stupid unconscious woman, who has a shoe in one leg and another leg is bare. One day, I went to my kitchen and noticed crowds of turkeys on the table of my kitchen. I got mad while thinking about the reasons why those crowds of turkeys on my table are, and I got a strong headache. I needed to rest my brain, so I left the house to go to the library of my city. After I had spent many hours there with collecting books and holding them on my arms, I felt my arms become numb, and I dropped them on the floor.
Hahaha, being without arms now, I lost the balance, I stumbled, and crashed my head against a shelf. I fell unconscious, and when I woke up again, I had to realize, I was sleeping on the coach of a football team on a big couch. As you can imagine, that was a very ridiculous and embarrassing situation to me, so I apologized to him, picked up my arms, made them alive again, and went home with a shoe in one leg and another leg is bare.
I went to my kitchen with the crowds of turkeys on my table and chased them away. Finally, I did not need to rest my brain anymore because this silly story made me give up my common sense.

Hahahahahahahahahahahha

Some days ago, I was reading a book when a friend called me up via Skype.

My friend is a Canadian, He's a forty-five years old man with German roots from his grandparents. I know, he misses Germany because he hadn't been here for many years. He has still relatives in Germany. He told me to come in the next spring when Germany is more beautiful than in other seasons of the year.

My friend is a musician and poet. He writes and composes the own songs. Playing the guitar and singing is his life.
Sometimes he plays for me one of his songs when we speak on Skype.

Being a musician isn't his only profession. He also works for the Canadian judiciary.
Sometimes he needs an out-time from working, then he plays guitar and sings on the streets.

He speaks different languages, loves cats and dogs and animals in general, but he hasn't much trust in humans.

He is, what we call a lone wolf.

Sometimes he drinks a little too much alcohol and then he doesn't realize what he says. I can deal with his moods because I can look behind his facade of self-protect. He always pretends independence, says, he can deal with his loneliness, but I don't believe him. No one loves being alone at his age.

Let me tell you why he called me that day.

 "Hey, I sent you a postcard and a nice picture calendar that shows you Canada's beautiful nature. The nice lady at the post office told me it would take about ten days until you get it", said my friend.
"What a nice idea! A postcard!", I replied.
The majority of the people doesn't write postcards anymore. My opinion is that writing postcards and letters are more personal than the exchange of messages in social networks.
"It's not a normal picture-postcard," continued my friend.
"That postcard is a photo from me. I took it as a postcard,  wrote your address on it, and added some personal words for you."
His voice fell silent for some seconds.
Then he continued "I have to tell you something."

 I thought, he plans to come to Germany and asked, "Wanna come to Germany?".
"I would come right away if I could," he said, "but I am afraid I will not travel anymore."
"What is happened?", I curiously asked.

"I will die," he said.

"What? Are you kidding me?", I replied. "Telling me about dying isn't a joke."
"I know," he replied. "I am not kidding you. I am serious. It's the cruel truth. I went to a doctor because a pain in my back was torturing me. He made some examinations and told me I have lung cancer."

Shocked and not believing it's true, I asked worriedly, "what has he told you what to do, what kind of treatments did he offer you?".
The silence on the other site made me more and more worried.
Then my friend said, "He told me, there isn't anything to do. He gave me a life expectancy of three months more or less".

I was shocked and speechless. Then, after some seconds I asked, "what does it mean, they can't do anything? They could operate. And, why don't they irradiate or give you a chemotherapy? Maybe they even find a lung for a transplanting."
"The doctor said it is impossible," said my friend.
I asked him "why?". He didn't answer my question.
"You know?" he said "I know what it means to die of lung cancer. My dad had lung cancer, too. I still remember how he tried to breathe. I have still his coughing in my ears. He died a cruel death."

"But since that time the scientists have found new medicaments and the treatments are much more effective than still many years ago.", I tried to argue.
It seemed as if he had not heard my objection.

Instead, he continued "Music is my life. I can't sing anymore when I don't have enough air in my lungs. That's a big tragedy for me. It's my death in advance."
Then he suddenly said "As I don't have much trust in doctors, I hope they do err with the time that remains for my life. I heard from people they have lived still much longer  than doctors had told them before."

His mood switched from hope to hopelessness and back to hope again, and I had no recipe for comforting him. Every single word I would have said would have sounded like a mocking.

He doesn't have a close relationship with his family. But he cares for one of his three sisters. She lives in a clinic for mentally ill people. Showing weakness and emotions isn't his thing, but as he spoke about her, he was crying. I noticed that though he tried to hide it. He doesn't know how to tell her that he will go away sometime.

The best what I could do was listening to him, to weaken his sorrows, and to strengthen his hopes with words. I noticed he was relieved, having talked to me. I had the impression it had burdened him not to have spoken yet to anyone about this matter and soul-pain.
But for me is it a heavy burden and a deep sorrow because I know, it is impossible for me to help him.

I can't do anything else than to be here, listen to him whenever he wants to talk and whenever he needs me as a friend.

Between Night and Day.

When the sun goes down for sleeping,
says "Goodbye, Day" with colorful light.
The sky looks as if it is bleeding,
before it kisses the dark of the night.

When fast the shadows will be growing,
and darkness is wrapping the land,
then all of the stars starting glowing,
and walk with the moon hand in hand.

And the lights turn on in the buildings,
like the eyes of the cats in the dark.
Can you see the lights in the windows,
lovers walk hand in hand through the park?

The trees will be washing their leaves,
in the night with the droplets of mist.
Can you see the cats on the eaves?
It seems, they will be having a tryst.

So loud and so clear sound the noises
in the endless silence of the night.
We hear in the distance the voices
of cats which still have a fight.

When the sun the day will be greeting
red colors they spreading out wide.
The sky looks as if it is bleeding,
it's saying "Goodbye" for the night.

My Halloween nightmare

I was in a sound sleep when someone suddenly opened my bedroom's door. It was very dark, almost midnight. I opened my eyes. At first, I couldn't see anything. My eyes weren't accustomed to the darkness. The only things I could see: two red points on my white bedsheet.

It was creepy because I did not know what would happen. Suddenly, the moon came out from behind the clouds. Before my bed stood a figure dressed in a dark linen fabric; a deep manly voice commanded me to come with him. His voice sounded as if it were coming from a deep grave. His eyes, like fire, made the red marks on my bed.

I felt goosebumps on my skin and was unable to say anything. I wanted to scream, but not a single sound came out of my mouth. I got up, though I did not want to go with him, as if I were in a trance, like a robot.

I wondered where my husband and my kids would be. The bed beside me was empty, and while I followed this ghost, I could see through the open doors of the kid rooms that there was no one lying in their beds. I panicked and felt tears running over my cheeks.

This terrible ghost figure led me to the basement. I arrested my step because I saw with fright that a lot of blood leaked through the door gap.

My heart was pumping hard. I felt my pulse in my temples. My hands were wet with the cold sweat, and my knees were shaking.

I could not speak and was close to collapse. The terrible ghost opened the door. I held my hands before my eyes, in order not to see what he wanted to show me.

Suddenly, I did hear the voices of my husband and children. They laughed loudly.
I opened my eyes and saw my family, sitting around a big table.
There were heaps of dead turkeys on the table, enough for the whole neighborhood.

It is not Thanksgiving, it's just Halloween," I thought. Suddenly, I could speak again. "Why did you kill all the turkeys?," I screamed out loud; I was frightened because my voice has sounded like an echo.

The lovely faces of my family changed to grinning masks with big red fiery eyes and from their lips dropped blood. The stood up and came with their long sharp knives and shuffling steps toward me. They looked suddenly like monsters who wanted to catch me.
I ran out of the house and landed in a dark and dense forest.

I ran and ran. The branches of the trees hit my face, my arms, and my legs. Panicked, I ran as fast as I could.
Suddenly, I stopped running. Far ahead of me, I saw some of flying coffins. One of the coffins left the group and flew toward me. I was scared and wanted to flee.
But then I saw a woman under the trees. She looked like a witch.

They talked, but it was impossible to understand their words. Then the coffin was closed again and flew away. Behind it, sparks flew because as the coffin repeatedly touched the stony forest ground.
The scenery had been very confusing, creepy, and frightening. I couldn't walk a step. My heart was racing.

When I could control my legs again, I turned around and decided to go home. When I reached my house, one of the coffins flew toward me. The body of a giant caterpillar with many legs came out of the coffin and one of its legs tried to grab one of my arms. I was unable to open the door and screamed very loudly.

"Darling, wake up," the voice of my husband called to me. "Hahaha, you are afraid of Halloween, you had a nightmare," he said and laughed aloud. 
"Right! It's the day of Halloween!" I thought and got up to prepare breakfast for my family. I knew I would need strong nerves to survive that day, and especially that night.

In trees, the wind is singing quietly.
The night shows us the breath of cold.
The leaves, so colorful fall softly.
The hills look great like red and gold.

Like curtains lies the fog on meadows.
The songs of birds will fade away.
So countless are the kinds of shadows.
The days show many shades of gray.

And Flocks of birds begin their flying,
to find a place so warm and bright.
Their melodies are farewells crying,
you can it hear all day and night.

The droplets on the nets of spiders
let shine them like the strings of pearls.
The spiders seem to be like riders,
They are right there to scare the girls.

The kids, they love to play in puddle,
and love to make from leaves a hill.
For parents sometimes it's a struggle
to keep the children calm and still.

The fall, it says goodbye to summer,
and shows the colors all around.
But soon, the winter comes as drummer,
and sends its tune with own sound.

And there, between goodbye and welcome,
it's task always the fall fulfills.
It was the summer where he came from,
and he will go with winter's will.

Thunderstorm

Slowly starts the thunderstorm,
I can hear its rumbling
and the lightning will be born
and the wind hunts something.

People running fast to home,
closing doors and windows.
No one likes to be alone
when the storm its face shows.

Do you see the dance of trees?
How they bow the tops?
Do you hear the song of Rain,
the drumming of the drops?

Birds are drinking from the puddle,
one has lost a feather.
Outside seems it like a muddle
but soon will sooth the weather.

Wind has swept the streets so clean,
Rain has washed the land.
Without dust the leaves are green
so cleans nature's hand.

Thunderstorm will end sometime,
passing through the rainbow.
Arch of colors and its light.
Watch it through the window!

Let's open our windows wide,
and smell the air so sweet.
Sun starts getting warm and bright,
the wind drove out the heat.

I have changed the title a little. I united two of the titles.

The clumsy witch (who cried golden tears)

Once upon a time, there lived a little girl.
She lived together with her her mom and her granny in a little house nearby a beautiful lake, outside the city.

The house, surrounded by a garden, was just a small house but very comfortable and cozy. In the garden grew thousands of different flowers and there lived butterflies and birds lived there, too.

The girl loved the birds, butterflies, and flowers. She was a happy child.
The girl was not like the other girls her age. She was a witch by birth because her mom and her grandma were also witches.
The girl did not know that she was a witch though much of what happened was very strange, incomprehensible, and confusing to her.  
She was a smart and happy girl, always friendly to everyone. The only problem, she was a little clumsy in her movements. She tripped even over her own feet. At school, the kids laughed at her clumsiness.

Always, when the children laughed, the little girl became very sad and many tears poured out of her big blue eyes like a fountain and ran over her cheeks.

One day, there was a feast at the school. The little girl helped to set the table and to serve the food and beverages. She carried a bowl of lemonade with cut fruit.
She fell again, just at the moment she wanted to put the bowl on the table.
All of the kids were sitting around the table, the contents of the bowl landed over a boy's head.

Everyone laughed. The little girl ran away, very ashamed and sad.

On the way home, she noticed how her tears made sounds on the paving stones as if they would play a melody.
She wiped her eyes and then, suddenly, she saw tiny pearls on her hands; they were pure gold.
She was surprised and speechless. Then, the girl remembered a fairytale that her granny always told her in the evenings before she went to sleep. But this figure from the fairytale was a witch, and her tears have been sparkling little diamonds.

"I am not a witch," thought the girl. She stopped crying, picked up the golden pearls, put them into the pocket of her dress, and ran home as fast as the wind.

When she reached the house, she was excited and confused. Her mom already knew what had happened. It was time to reveal to her daughter the secret of all the female family members. All of them were witches.
All of them have to follow one single condition.
To do only good things and not to use their magic of evil or even selfish things. And never could they tell everyone their secret. If they didn't follow the rules, they would lose their magical power.

"Now are you a right witch," said the mother and with the time you will get much more power. Your clumsiness is over from now on. No one will longer tease you or laugh at you any longer."

"But then I have no reason to cry," said the little witch. "If I can't cry, I can't get golden tears anymore. I would like to give the gold to the school. The roof needs repairing, and we need new sports and play tools."

"Don't worry. You also can cry when you are happy. But you have to pay attention that no one sees your golden tears." said the mother and she smiled at her daughter.

The next day, the little witch went to the school with self-confidence.
In the previous evening, she has packed all the tiny golden pearls into a little linen bag.
The pearls jingled in the pocket of her dress. The little witch looked around. No one saw her when she put the linen bag into the mailbox of her school.
Nobody knew who had donated the gold.

The school got a new roof, and the children got new sports tools and plays.
The little witch had lost her clumsiness, and no one laughed at her anymore.
She was very responsible for her magic power and did many good things. She only smiled when people were happy if they found some golden pearls in their mailboxes when they need help.

Dear friends and members here, I thank you for participating in this challenge  .....  but .... now is the time over

AND
now is it my turn to crown the winner:

And the winner isssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss:

ELF-Noor

with the Title:

 It is my Kingdom 

Now is it your turn for the next challenge, dear ELF-Noor.

At the end I will post the photo again with my marks what I have seen within this mountain.

Here you go:

As I was the winner (or victim...lol) of Luci's last challenge I'm coming up with a picture what needs to be watched carefully to see what I had seen at the moment when I took it. 

Here you go:

Deadline is the coming Thursday.  I am curious to see your Headlines and explanations what you see.

I am going to name the winner of this challenge on Friday.

Good Luck!!!!!!!

It was a very dark night when I woke up through a  noise like a loud bang.
I was annoyed because I had dreamed sweetly.
My hand went to the side of the bed where my husband should be but he was not there. I wondered where he was because we were far from the city in a small wooden house in the forest.

Outside I heard the voice of someone. I did not try to turn on the light. I got up to see where my husband was but I couldn't find him in the whole house. I took a look through a small gap in the curtains of the bedroom's window. I couldn't see anything and also the voice had fallen silent. Only the wind shook the window shutters of the house. It was a little creepy and I got goosebumps.

Suddenly, that voice again, this time the voice called me. The power of the wind was strong and I couldn't make a difference if it was a male or a female voice. What should I do? I did not know. I decided to go outside to see what has happened. I opened the front door. It was dark, I couldn't even see my hands before the eyes.

With the time, my eyes got used to the darkness.
The trees looked like ghosts with long legs and arms.  From the distance, I heard the scream of an owl. I felt as if it called me to come. I did not want but it was like an inner coercion to follow the call of the owl. My feet started walking, first slowly and then faster and faster. I was frightened. The noises of the branches under my feet sounded like the screams of wounded creatures.

Suddenly, I saw a light coming closer and closer. When it reached me I had to recognize, it was not only one single light. There were thousands of dancing light spots in the air. I wanted to go back to the house but I couldn't move my legs anymore.

The light spots formed to a terrible grimace and it was as if the grimace's mouth laughed at me. At the same time, I felt how the ground under my feet caved in. I sank deep and deeper, about me the grin of the light-monster and under my feet that deep hole. I was lost!

The light monster got arms and hands and tried to grab me. I wanted to scream but no one single sound came out of my mouth. The hole became deeper and the arms of the monster longer and longer. I felt how my tears run over my cheeks.  
Suddenly the arms of the monster reached and touched my arms.

A warm voice spoke to me and  I felt how someone shook gently my shoulders.
"Darling, do you have a nightmare?  Just wake up, please! Don't cry!". It was the voice of my husband. I woke up, wet from cold sweat but happy to find myself in my bed.

The woman by the window

Robert, a twenty-year-old young man, is visiting the exhibition because his boss wants him to write about art, the artists and their paintings.
Robert is a little annoyed because he is not very interested in art, and especially, painting is not his favorite subject.
Unfortunately, he does not have a choice. He urgently needs the money. It is his last chance to keep his job with the small newspaper publisher. He works there actually for the gossip section. The owner threatened him with dismissal if he comes back without a good story.

While Robert walks around the exhibition rooms, he takes some notes as to the names of the paintings, the painters and the dates of their creation.

Suddenly, he stops walking. There is a painting on the wall that catches his attention. It shows a woman by a window. The artist painted her twice, once in front of the window and second as a reflection in the window glass. Her lips are smiling, but her beautiful eyes look sad. It seems she is looking for something or someone in the distance.

Robert wipes his eyes because it is as if he is dreaming. He knows this woman. She is his grandmother. He knows her only from old photos in family albums. There was always a big secret around her, and no one wanted to talk about it. When Robert was a child, he sometimes asked why she had left, but no one told him. So he stopped asking. He thought that speaking about her would be too sad. She had left the family when her son, Roberts father, Conrad, was a teen. 

Once, he did hear the gossip of some neighbors who talked about that case. It was after his grandfather got shot by one of his colleagues during a police operation.
The neighbors said, one day, someone had called the police because inside a flat a woman screamed for help. When the police reached the flat, they saw a man who was beating a woman.  Blood poured from an open wound on her head, her dress was torn, and her face swollen.

This man was supposed to be Robert's grandfather, at least, so the neighbors whispered at that time. He had tried to rape the woman, told the woman, the victim, later the police.

The neighbors spoke about the disappearance of Robert's grandfather's wife. They assumed she died by suicide, but no one knew it exactly. They only know, the family had reached for her for years without success.

But ... Here hangs a painting of his grandmother and it shows her as an elder lady.
Robert is curious who the painter is, looks at the small paper next to the painting and reads the information.

He notes the painter's name and leaves the exhibition. He drives home and looks on the internet for more information about the painter. He wants to know where the artist met his grandma. Why has painted the artist her as an elder woman?
Robert finds out that the artist is still alive, and he also finds his complete address and the phone number. Robert doesn't hesitate and phones the artist. He reaches the artist in his atelier and asks him for an interview for an article about painting. The artist agrees, and they make a date for the next day.

Robert has forgotten his boss' warning. He's only interested in the story of the picture.

The next day, Roberts stands before the artist's atelier and rings. An old man opens the door. He wears a white coat with lots of paint spots.
Robert asks first the painter questions about painting in general,
then he asks about the painting  The woman by the window.
Robert wants to know when the artist had painted it.

The answer surprises him because the artist painted this woman almost 20 years before when she was about 50 years old.  "She is my wife." says the artist, and continues, "I met her after her family had forced her leaving her home. She did not know where to stay. I took her with me home because I noticed her despair. At first, she did not want to tell me what had happened. Later I found out her husband has beaten her during all the years of her marriage. One day, she couldn't bear it any longer; she defended herself by using scissors. Her husband was injured. When the family saw the injuries, he told them, his wife has wanted to kill him.
She had never before told anyone of his violent outbursts against her. That was the reason that no one believed her when she tried to explain her attack. Her father told her to leave the house, otherwise, he would call the police. She knew the police would not believe her either because her husband was one of them, a policeman. She begged her father to stay because she did not want to leave her son. But her father forced her to go straight away. She did not even have the chance to take clothes with her when she left the house."

The old artist sighs. "When I met her, she was sitting on a bench at the train station.
The rain fell and drenched her clothes in the water. "

Robert looks at the artist, speechless with open mouth. "And then?", asks Robert the artist.

"The train arrived. I saw the woman getting up and walking towards the rails. I was able to hold her back before she tried to jump." says the artist.

Robert remembers only very weakly his grandfather because he never had a very close relationship with him, not to say he did not like him so much. Despite being a child, he had noticed his Grandfather's inappropriate remarks regarding his mom. Finally, Robert's father broke with his father after many disputes about his behavior. There was not only his behavior towards Robert's mom.  He also refused to tell Robert's dad more details about his mom and why she left.

It must have been a big blow for Robert's dad to hear after his father's death his father was violent against women, a rapist, and a bully.

"As I told you, it took a long time until she trusted me.", says the painter. "We moved to another city, far from here. She never tried to contact any of her family members. She was afraid, her husband would find her. I have lived with her as if we are a married couple ... for about 40 years. We never got married. We were afraid he would find out where she lives if we applied for new identity papers for her.

The painter stops for a moment, then he continues. "You see, randomly, about five years ago, we heard her husband is dead already for ages. We bought this house here and returned to her former hometown. She wanted to find her son. It was in vain, so we decided to make an exhibition with my paintings and to show also that painting with the woman by the window that shows her face. We hoped that someone would recognize her. Maybe it would be a good idea if you write an article not only about art and painting but also about her story? What do you think?", the artist asks and looks at Robert.

Robert can no longer be silent. His head is threatening to burst. "Where is your wife?", he asks the painter. "She is in the house to this atelier," answers the painter.
"Let her come, please," Roberts asks the old man.
The old man phones his wife She doesn't answer, and he is wondering why.

"Darling, I thought you come for lunch," suddenly says a female voice behind Robert's back. "Maybe you forgot to pay attention to your watch, as always when you paint. So I have brought you your meal," she says.

Robert dares not to look around.

"Oh, you have a visitor," the female voice continues. "Would you please introduce us to?"

Robert turns around and looks at her. Before the painter can say anything, the woman drops the tray with the plate. The food spreads all over the ground.  
The woman's face is pale. She looks as if she sees a ghost. Robert does not know what to say and looks at her, too.

The painter looks at his wife. "Darling, what is?", he asks her worriedly.

She does not reply. She only looks at Robert. Then she asks quietly, "Who are you? You look like my son Conrad might have looked when he was your age", she says with shivering voice, tears running down her cheeks.

Robert goes to her, takes her shivering hands in his hands. "I am not Conrad," he says, " but I am Robert, Conrad's son and I believe you are my grandmother." He smiles at her and wipes the tears from her cheeks.

"I had lost any hope of finding my son because I couldn't find anyone with his family name here in the city surrounding area." says the old woman and looks questioningly at Robert.

"My dad and my mom moved to Canada some years ago. I came back for a job, just for a year. Dad had thought it would be a school for life for me when I had to care myself," says Robert and smiles. "Let me phone my dad to tell him the news. I am sure he will take the next plane to come here. He always believed you are dead," Robert says, and he calls his father.

As he thought, his father and his mother plan to come with the next available flight. So the family story finds a happy end.

There are in the English language words with supposedly same meaning but they have differences in usage.

Here are two of them and how to use them:
 
1. Let us speak about the NOUNS, Play, Game, Match and how to use them correctly.
1.1. Play: use play in the sense of pastime.

Example: The children spent hours on a play.

1.2. Game: use game in the sense of competition with certain rules.

Example: The Olympic Games take part every four years.

1.3. Match: use match when you want to speak in the sense of a real competition.

Example: They are playing an important match on Sunday.

2. Let us speak about the VERBS, Look, See, Watch, how do we use these verbs correctly?
2.1.    Look 
2.1.1. Usage1:  to look closely at something or in terms of appearance.

Examples: Look at the board, please!
                   Mary looks beautiful.
                   It looks like rain, doesn't it?

2.1.2.Usage2: look / look up (e.g., dictionary) ...

Example: You can look up the words in the dictionary.

2.2.    See
2.2.1. Usage1: to perceive something

Example: Can you see the blue car over there?
                  You can't see far in this fog.

2.2.2. Usage2: to understand something

Example: I see what you mean.)

2.2.3. We also use it if it is necessary to do something.

Example: I'm afraid, Linda has to see the doctor. 

2.3. Watch: to observe, to pay attention, to realize, to notice ... mostly used in terms of to see changing is the meaning of to watch.
Examples:      He watches TV every evening.
                    Watch the road!
                    Watch out for pickpockets.
                  He promised to keep a close watch on our house, just in case.

Chapter five:  After a busy day 2

Fortunately, the way to the house is not so far.
Still holding onto their hands, they run across the sand and reach the door before the sky opens all its doors.

Caroline laughs and shakes her hair.
The raindrops look like bright shining pearls or small diamonds on her red hair.
Her voice sounds happily and soft.

Inside the house, they close the windows and Bodi go to the kitchen. He comes back with mugs of tea.

Only a small lamp lights off the dark room.
Outside it's dark and the raindrops drum loudly against the panes.There are lightning flashes in the sky. It seems as if the day wants to return.
The sky is like a bizarre, abstract picture.

Caroline stands in front of the window in the sitting room, the arms crossed over her chest.
Bodi can see her face in the windowpane. She smiles. She loves watching the Rain.

"How beautiful she is.", he thinks.
She isn't a picture of women which you can see in one of these beauty magazines, but she is perfect for him in her natural imperfection.

He puts the mugs on the table, steps behind her by clearing his throat because he doesn't want to scare her.

Caroline laughs quietly.  She had seen him already in the windowpane, but she does not turn to face him.

He puts his arms around her waist. She does not refuse it. Her skin shivers while feeling his breath on her neck.
Her eyes are closing, and her eyelids tremble.  Bodi feels, her pulse is racing.

"Oh Bodi!", she whispers his name.  
Her head is lying on his chest.
"Caroline, please, dance with me", he says.
She turns to look at him.

Before he came back to the sitting room, he had turned on the radio.
They dance in a tight embrace. Cheek to cheek, so they stand more than they dance.
He takes gentle her face between his hands and bends his face down to her.
They start kissing, first slowly and tender, then more passionate.
Caroline's body burns like fire, and that arouses him very much.

He had had already some affairs with women but never before had he felt like now. Caroline is irresistible in her femininity.  

He looks at her rosy face, takes her in his arms and carries her upstairs to lay her on the bed in her bedroom. He opens the windows because the air inside the rooms is hot and humid.
The Rain is over, and a light breeze of a cool wind is moving the curtains.

-------to be continued-----

Chapter four: After a busy day 1

Bodi enters the kitchen. His face is shaved and his smell is fresh like soap. Caroline puts huge beef steaks on two plates with roasted potatoes. There is also a plate with vegetables and a bowl of salad on the table.

“Would you like to drink something, Bodi?” asks Caroline.
“I don’t have a beer but I can offer you some water, self-made lemonade, and red wine."

“It does not matter, Caroline, give me a glass of red wine, please. By the way, the food looks tasty. Such a huge steak! Thanks, I am as hungry as a wolf.”  

Caroline smiles and takes a seat opposite him.
He also smiles. He is impressed to see the big portion on her plate but he doesn’t mention it.
"Enjoy your meal Caroline and thanks again for your hospitality”, he says and starts eating.

After dinner, he pushes her out of the kitchen to go to the beach. He wants to wash up the dishes and then to follow her to the beach. The washing up goes easy by his hands.
He turns off the light everywhere in the house, except a small lamp on a sideboard in the living room. He opens the windows. Outside is it cooler now and it will be fine to have fresh air inside the house. Then he leaves the house.

The sun begins to go down. The air is yellow, orange and red as if the air burns. It is still warm. The colored light of the sun looks magical. Bodi sees Caroline sitting at the shore. She has her arms around her knees. Her hair is redder than brown in this magical light. She watches the waves and the sundown. Her face is rosy and the wind is playing with her hair.

He feels tenderness and a longing to touch her. He does not know what happens. He was never before so attracted by a woman.
He’s now behind her. She looks at him. He sees tears in her eyes. It doesn't seem embarrassing for her showing him her emotions. "That is so stunning, isn’t it? So beautiful and amazing! This beauty is refreshment for soul and heart.”  Suddenly she takes Bodi’s hand. “Look Bodi, the birds! It is as if they are dancing in the sky.”, Caroline says. At the same time, the sun kisses the sea before disappearing.

Bodi speaks some lines of a poem:

                           "It’s like a song of mermaids,
                           it’s like their dance on the wave.
                         They lure you with magic voices,
                   They seduce you to come to their cave."    
     
Caroline looks at him, smiles and asks, “Do you like my poem?”.
Bodi looks at her, “Yes I love it and those words are so perfect to describe what I feel right now. But, wait! You said it is your poem? How can I understand that, are you the author of the poems in the folder on the table in the living room?”

“Pssssssssssssst!!!” She lies her fingers on his lips, “Don’t speak. Just feel the moment! Please don’t speak!” She looks in his eyes and he feels like sinking into these green eyes without a return. He takes her hands and kisses every single finger very tenderly. Tears leave her eyes and she sighs quietly.

“Don’t cry, please,” says Bodi, “Don’t cry, I never will hurt you, believe me, please.”

“I know”, that's all that Caroline is able to say. Each single kiss on the tips of her fingers is like an impulse of electricity. Her face is blushed, her eyes are closed and shiver a little behind the lids. Her mouth is open.  It's like an invitation to kiss her. Now it’s over with his self-control. He takes her face between his hands and starts kissing. First very tenderly like a breeze. She does not refuse and that makes him kissing her again, this time more passionately. If she ever had doubts about her feelings, they got away with his kisses. It's as if she is flying on the wings of emotions, no matter what happens.

She feels his desire, his passion, how much he wants her and she desire him too. She moves her body close to him, puts her arms around his neck and starts to kiss him back. She has weak knees, and her heart beats as fast as never before.
She is fascinated by his masculinity. She is surprised. She doesn't know him for long. It's just one single day! This never happened to her before in her entire life.
She is not one of those women which fall in love so quickly but a gaze in his eyes says more than a thousand words. She never believed in the love at the first sight. She has to recognize, it's possible. She can not think anymore.

Slowly comes back the blood into Bodi's brain.
He does not know what happened. He feels happy although it is not explainable, at least not in rational senses.
He only knows that he wants her more than anything else.
While they kept kissing they did not notice how the weather suddenly has changed. With the first Thunderclaps, the first raindrops are falling down from the clouds.

 ----- to be continued ------

Chapter Three:  The next day

"What for a smell?", thinks Caroline and opens her eyes. "It smells tasty!".
She jumps with a set from her bed and rushes to the bathroom.
After having a shower, she puts on white pants and a lovely white long blouse, puts a little rouge on her cheeks and rushes downstairs to the kitchen.
She stops in front of the open kitchen door. With wide opening eyes, she looks at the picture what she sees.

Bodi bakes pancakes. A smell of coffee is in the air and smells delicious in her nose. On the table, she sees fruits, juice, bread, and butter.

He is so busy that he doesn't notice her. He has flour in his face but he is not clumsy at the stove. The radio is playing. Bodi hums and moves his body in the rhythm of the music.
She doesn't want him to notice that she is watching him already for a while and goes back a few steps. She begins to whistle to the music as she enters the kitchen. Bodi looks at her, seeing a big bright smile on her face.
"What a surprise, I see you have found everything for breakfast. I'm so sorry, I am not a good host because I slept longer than my guest.", says Caroline.

Bodi smiles "Don't worry, no need for an apology. I disturbed your sleep last night. Have a seat and enjoy your breakfast. I'm going to have a look for my boat.", he says.

Caroline replies, "Oh no, don't leave, please. I think you also have not eaten yet. Please keep me company. You have prepared more than enough for us both. You can have a look for your boat later and if you don't mind would I like to go with you to the beach." 

Bodi agrees and takes a seat opposite her.
The breakfast is delicious and the talk pleasant.
She likes his manly voice and that he understands to set his words and to lead the conversation. He has humor without to use clumsy or silly jokes. After finishing breakfast, she puts the dirty dishes in the sink. She will wash it up later.  

The air is fresh in this morning, cleaned by storm and Rain. The moist sand is warm.  It isn't necessary wearing shoes. She loves walking barefoot as often as possible.

The beach is a picture of chaos.  
Many trees have lost lots of their leaves, and many coconuts lay on the ground.
The boat has torn sails, but the boat itself is in good condition at first sight. The sailing boat is neither small nor big. It has a stateroom for cooking and sleeping. The view through the open door shows the mess. Nothing is still at the right place. It will take time to repair everything and to clean up the mess.
Bodi used the motor during the storm to save the sails.
The box with the engine is under water and he will try to start it again after drying.

"What do you want to do now Bodi?",  asks Caroline compassionately and looks at Bodi. "Hmmm," he says and runs with his hands about his stubble. "Let me think! First I have to spoon out the water and to wait until it's dry. Then I'll try to repair the sails. Maybe are there also some other damages. Who knows? Unfortunately, I can't find my tools. I'm afraid the sea has stolen them."
He laughs a little because he doesn't want to show her his despair and although she noticed that, she doesn't say anything.
"Don't worry. I'm sure we will find some tools.There is a room where the power generator stands. I will have a look there later. You may sleep inside the house for some days. The guest room is prepared", says Caroline and she is blushing.

Caroline and Bodi start cleaning up the mess. She around the house and he takes all the things out of the boat to let dry them under the sun. He's happy because he had a blessing in disguise. The most of the stuff is still alright. He sees only some broken plates and ruined groceries.

In the noon heat, they stop working and return to the house.
Caroline serves self-made lemonade. It is refreshing.

Bodi goes upstairs to wash his dirty hands, comes back, takes a seat on the sofa and watches her.  She looks beautiful with her from working red face. Her white skin starts tanning. He looks at her while she is sitting on one of the armchairs opposite him.  She has closed eyes. Bodi watches her breathing on her chest. She is small.  He guesses, only so 160 cm. She is not one of the girls like those in the high-gloss magazines, she is not slim but also not fat.  She is beautiful in a natural way.

On the table lie folders with poems which he found in the morning. They were lying on the secretary in the living room. He could not find out the writer's name.
The poems witness a deep love-longing. Their style is very melancholic.
He should not forget to ask her who the owner of this folder with the poems is, or better to ask her if she knows who the author is.

 
Reeved in reading, he does not notice her waking.
She looks at him. She guesses, he is in the forties.
It's not easy to guess because he looks like as if he has experience in life, and she sees some wrinkles around his dark eyes. His face is tanned and also his body.
She would give a penny for his thoughts while he's reading.
His hands which hold the folder seem to know what work means. Nevertheless, his hands are manicured.

She is caught up with the imagination how it might to be touched by his hands. It makes her feel a strange warmth in her belly. She forces herself to stop these thoughts, coughs a little, takes a mouthful lemonade and says towards him, " I want to go outside. I should resume working. I'm not hungry. If you are, you can find something in the fridge. I'm cooking for dinner in the evening. If you like a good roasted steak, served with vegetables and potatoes then join me."

"Oh, that sounds good. I really don't know how to thank you for all what you are doing for me.",  says Bodi, smiling.
"Don't mention it," says Caroline and leaves the house.

Bodi feels a little hungry and makes a slice bread with cheese and takes a carrot from the basket on the kitchen table.
He sees through the kitchen window that Caroline enters the shed behind the house where the power generator stands. Shortly thereafter she comes out again. In her hand, she is carrying a toolbox and puts the box on the stair next to the front door.

Still, the sliced bread in his hand takes Bodi the box from the stair and goes with large steps to the beach.
The boat what he had jacked up in the morning lost the rest of water and now is it possible to open the motor cabin. He wants to lubricate and start the engine after drying. Before he has to mend the sails and to clean everything inside and outside of the boat. He knows it will take some time but he is no longer in a hurry. He wants to enjoy this island, accompanied by this beautiful woman. And also, it seems as if this island is offering very nice motives for photographs. Thank god, his cameras were kept very safe in a waterproof box.
He starts to clean up the mess. He does not pay attention to the time.

Suddenly, there is a smell coming from the house. Caroline calls him, "Please come in, the food is ready to eat soon. It takes still 20 minutes, more or less." He knocks the sand from his trousers, crosses the beach and enters the house, goes upstairs to have a shower and to pick clean clothes. He found his clothes fresh washed and ironed on the bed in the guest room. She must have taken them from the boat while he was busy to save what still usable is.

It is still early evening. She is hungry. Actually, she does not like to eat so early but today is the first evening after her arrival. She wants to watch the sundown after the dinner.

Sitting at the beach in the warm sand, watching the waves and waiting for the sundown must be beautiful. It was a hot day with blue sky, but now she can see first dark clouds in the distance. Maybe comes a thunderstorm or Rain again?

------- to be continued ------                

                                                      Chapter two ... The stranger 

Suddenly, she wakes up. It seems that someone is knocking on the door. Was it just a dream or is it the reality? She doesn't know. She listens but it's quiet now, only the wind shakes on the windows. Her eyes start closing again. But again this knocking on the door, this time louder than before. She jumps out of her bed with one jump. Her mind starts working. She doesn't turn on the light and goes downstairs to the front door. She tries to have a look through the spy in the door because she wants to see who outside is.

There stands a man, middle-aged with wet clothes and the hair is hanging on his face.  He looks tired and desperate. He doesn't wear shoes and has a wound on his right hand.

"Is there someone to help me, please?" His voice is manly. She notices it although the voice shakes a little from cold.

 Usually is it in this part of the world quite warm in July, also at night, but the heavy wind of the thunderstorm makes feel the temperatures colder.
She hesitates to answer but then wins her warm and compassionate heart against the caution. She turns on the light and opens the door.
The light falls on his face. He looks friendly and manly like his voice.

"Please don't be scared because of me.", he says. "I'm just looking for someone who helps me. The weather report pronounced storm ahead. I hoped to reach the mainland before. I was busy all time with saving my boat. Nature's violence carried me higher and higher. Finally, I landed here. What a blessing in disguise to have solid ground under my feet again.", he says and sighs.

Caroline says,"Please come in and have a seat. I will bring you a towel and a blanket. Unfortunately, I can't give you men's clothes because I don't have. Cover yourself with the blanket until your clothes dry. Wait for me just a moment."

She left the room to pick up a towel and a blanket. "Please follow me upstairs to the bathroom. There can you undress your wet clothes and have a warm shower while I'm going to the kitchen to cook a hot tea for you. You should leave your wet clothes in the bathroom, please." So she says, shows him where the bathroom is and left him to go downstairs. He enjoys the shower while she cooks tea.

She also prepared some slices bread for him, with butter and she roasts some eggs with ham. She has the impression he needs to eat. The kitchen is full of tasty smell when Bodi comes back from the bathroom. He wears the large towel around his hips and Caroline notices, his body is tanned and muscular. He's very tall, almost a whole head taller than her.

She puts the eggs, ham and the buttered slices of bread on a plate and pushes it across the table towards him, fills two large cups with tea and has a seat opposite him.

"Oh, thanks, it smells delicious, I'm already starving!" He smiles.
"By the way, I'm Bodi Smith. I'm from New York City. I'm an author of travel books. I have chartered a boat with the intention to sail across the Indian Ocean. I am looking for some nice motives to take some photos for a travel guide for sailors. I am interested in small islands, no crowded. I hope, my cameras are still on the boat, I couldn't find them in the dark after I reached this island."

"Nice to meet you, Bodi, my name is Caroline Miller, I am English and here on this island for some weeks or months, for relaxing and getting new impressions. I am a writer of short novels or tales. Please, don't hesitate to eat now before your eggs and ham are cold."

He gulps down his food very quickly. She smiles, and he notices it. It seems it is embarrassing for him to show how hungry he was. She notices the wound on his hand because it bleeds still a little.

She takes a bandage to supply his wound and takes his hand in hers. His hands look like the hands of a man who is accustomed to working. Caroline has soft hands. He gets goosebump while she touches him.  She looks at him, and he looks into two green eyes, he had never seen before.
Her face starts blushing. Bodi thinks it suits her face what framed is by auburn hair. He smiles. His smile makes his clear-cut face softer. Small wrinkles are decorating his brown eyes.

He looks tired, unable to hide it.
"I should go now, try sleeping on my boat. I have occupied your time and hospitality enough for this night. Thanks for everything.", he says to Caroline and stands up.

"Hahaha, that sounds like a joke.", she replies. "Do you want to leave with only a blanket around your hips? Your clothes are still wet. Sleeping on your boat this night doesn't seem to be a good idea. What is if it has a damage? If it doesn't have, it's at least very wet and uncomfortable after storm and rain. Staying inside of the house overnight will be better. I do offer you to sleep here in the living room on the sofa: It will be alright for one night. Tomorrow in the morning you can look after your boat. There isn't anything to do right now. It is dark outside."  

Bodi is too tired to contradict, so he agrees.
She makes him the bed on the sofa, wishes him a good night and goes upstairs to sleep again. Before sleeping, she hangs his clothes on a hanger in the bathroom for drying.  The sleep comes quickly and is deep and dreamless

                            ------ to be continued -------

Hello, dear friends and members here!

I am not a writer and also not as good at English. But I think writing poems and tales, is a good way to express our mind and to reach improvement in the English language as well as get progress. I am about writing a short tale and I invite everyone to read and to comment it  .... or even to correct my mistakes. I will write chapters and publish them here as fast as I can.

Let's start!

                                 Chapter one: The arrival
 
After a long journey, she reaches the Indian Ocean.
She has rented a little wooden house on a small island direct at the lonely beach. She doesn't like to stay at crowded beaches with hotels. She was seeking for long to find this island and the woman, who's the owner of the house, told her, it is very lonely there. Only sometimes comes a sailor with his boat to this place in the Indian Ocean, to take water from the natural found and to stay for few days before they sail away again.

It seems to be the perfect place for her to relax, to swim, to discover the surrounding and to write poems. It will be inspiring to be far from civilization in a house without television and internet connection. Electricity comes from a generator, located in a small shed behind the house. At least so told her the landlady.

The only luxury what she allows herself is a radio for listening to the News and the weather forecast. The radio contains a recorder for playing music discs. She loves to write while music is playing. All of her friends asked her if she is crazy to stay completely alone on the island, but she was laughing and asked back what they think what could happen. Namely nothing!

She is waiting for the landlady's son. He brings her to the island by boat. She enjoys the boat trip very much. It will be sunset soon, and she is surprised how quiet the ocean seems to be before the sundown. She has closed her eyes and inhales the smell of the salty water while she can feel the rays of the sun warming her face. She smiles in anticipation of the island and the wooden house.

She is curious, excited, and nervous. Finally, she arrives.The young man helps her with carrying the baggage to the house.
He says goodbye and leaves her. She watches after him for a moment and opens the door. The old wood creaks a little. She does not know what she will find inside the house although the friendly lady had told her everything should be ok.

"Oh my gosh!" That's all that she can say. "How beautiful and amazing!" She didn't have expected such a romantic flair.
Staying here for the next weeks will be very lovely.  It's clean, in proper order and everything is at the right place.
She looks in the living room that has lovely light blue painted wooden furniture. A good view in front of the white walls.  
Paintings on the walls show romantic scenes and there hanging also some shelves with books. In front of a wall, stands a sofa with the same fabric color like the furniture color. There are lots of pure-white soft pillows on the sofa.  Two armchairs complete the seat group. In front of the opposite wall is a fireplace. It is a little strange to have a fireplace here because of the temperatures in this area of the world.

She smiles and opens the windows to let fresh air into the room. A warm wind breeze brings the smell of salt.  She can even taste it on her tongue. It's quiet, only the songs of birds fill the air.
It is peaceful around her. Her strong emotions make her cry. She mops with her hand about her eyes. She feels how the emotions and sensations start to overwhelm her.

She takes a deep breath and continues to discover the other rooms of the house.
There is a small kitchen with a stove, an oven, a fridge, and there are cabinets with pots, pans, dishes, and cutlery in the cabins and the fridge is full of some groceries. There is some meat, cheese, bread, butter, eggs, milk, salad, fruits, mineral water and in the cabinet above the sink she finds respectively coffee and tea, and also flour, salt, pepper and some spices, sugar, some rice, and pasta. On a sideboard next to the oven stands a kettle, a toaster, and coffee maker. In the middle of the kitchen stands an old restored wooden table with four chairs. There is a basket on the table with vegetables, onions, garlic, tomatoes, and potatoes.

The mass of food is enough to survive for the first week. Then the landlady's son will bring more.

Caroline leaves the kitchen to see what upstairs is. There are two rooms, a bedroom and probably a guest room and there is also a bathroom.  Except for a desk with an old typewriter on it, are the rooms similarly furnished, only the bed in the bedroom is much larger than the bed in the guest room. The sheets on the beds are white as also the blankets and pillows, only the pillows and blankets in the bedroom have small red roses woven into the fabric. It gives the room a romantic appearance.
The bathroom has only a shower. It doesn't matter because there is the greatest bathtub in front of the house, the sea.

After she has seen everything in the house and she thinks it is time to pick up her baggage from downstairs.  She is choosing a negligee, lays it on the bed and goes downstairs to cook a tea in the kitchen.

 While she waits for boiling water, she turns on her small radio to listen to the weather forecast. They say it will become stormy tonight.  Being inside the wooden house is good, it seems to be stable and safe. She is thinking so because the house is old and it has survived so many storms in the past. Before she goes sleeping, she should not forget to close the windows very carefully. She loves sleeping with wide opened windows to listen to the waves of the sea, but it will be better not to do it this night.

She has sweetened the tea with three little spoons sugar, so the smells and tastes delicious. She puffs before she takes a sip because the tea is hot.
She puts the teacup into the sink, goes upstairs to have a shower. It takes a little time until the water has the right temperature. She feels tired but also relaxed under the warm water.
She turns off the big lamp in the bedroom and uses the small one what is standing on a small table next to the bed. She is tired but still too excited to sleep. She takes a book to read some pages. Usually, it helps her, to fall asleep very quickly. It works as always. She doesn't notice how quickly the sleep comes and so she has still her book on her belly while she starts to dream.

------- to be continued -------