Eng121(for Print).pdf

Little One Inch : A Japanese Short Story. Once long ago in Japan there lived a couple who had no children. They prayed to the gods for a child, even one as small as a finger, and finally their prayers were answered. The child born to them was so small that they named him Issun Boshi, 'Little One Inch'. When Issun Boshi reached the age of 15, he said goodbye to his parents and set out for Kyoto, the capital city, to seek his fortune. In Kyoto he found employment in a wealthy household. He could not do much work because of his size, but his diligence and sincerity pleased his master and his mistress. And their daughter found him delightful. One day Issun Boshi accompanied the girl to the temple. On the way, two giants leaped out in front of them from behind some bushes. Issun Boshi deliberately drew their attention to him so that the girl could escape. But then the giants were furious with him and one of them picked him up and swallowed him. Issun Boshi had a needle his mother had given him. He used to wear it around his waist like a sword. When he found himself in the giant's stomach he took out the needle from its scabbard and began to stab the giant's stomach with it. Then climbing out through the gullet he stormed into the giant's mouth where he wreaked havoc with his needle. The giant was frightened and spat him out. When the other giant bent down to look at him, Issun Boshi stabbed him in the eye. The giants had had enough. They ran away, one holding a hand to his mouth and the other to his eye. In their haste they left behind a mallet which Issun Boshi and the girl — she had come back to help him — recognized as a magical object. "You have to hit it on the ground and make a wish," said the girl. So they hit the mallet on the ground and made a wish. The next moment, Issun Boshi had grown to normal size and stood clad in the armour of a samurai! The girl's father had no hesitation in giving his daughter in marriage to Issun Boshi, and the young samurai proved to be a devoted husband. Oh, yes, he brought his parents too to live with him and they, though happy to see their dear son grown so big, continued to call him Issun Boshi!

The Story of Mulan ~ A Chinese Tale in English for Kids This is the classic story of Mulan based on the legend of Hua Mulan. A legend is a story from long ago that is believed to be true, or mostly true.

Many years ago, China was in the middle of a great war. The Emperor said that one man from each Chinese family must leave his family to join the army. Mulan, a teenage girl who lived in a faraway village of China, heard the news when she was outside washing clothes. Mulan ran into the house. Her father was sitting in a chair, carving a piece of wood. “Father!" she said. "Did you hear what the Emperor says each family must do?” “Yes," said her old father, “I heard about it in town. Well, I may as well go pack up.” He put down his carving, stood up and walked very slowly to his room. “Wait!” said Mulan, “Father, you have not been well. If I may say so, why at your age must you keep up with all those young men?”

“Father, did you hear what the Emperor says each family must do?”

“What else can be done?” said her father. “Your brother is a child. He cannot go.” “Of course that's true,” said Mulan. “He is too little. But I have an idea." She poured her father a cup of tea and handed it to him. "Father, have some tea. Please sit a minute. I will be right back.” "Very well, dear," said the father. Mulan went into her room. With her sword, she cut off her long, black hair. She put on her father’s robe. Going back to her father, Mulan said, “Look at me. I am your son now. I will go in your place. I will do my part for China.” “No, my daughter!” said the old man. “You cannot do this!”

Going before her father, Mulan said, “I am your son now.”

“Father, listen please," said Mulan. “For years, you trained me in Kung Fu. You showed me how to use a sword.” Mulan swung the sword back and forth with might. “Only so that you could stay safe!” said her father. “I never meant for you to go to war. If they find out you are a woman, you know as well as I do that you will die!” “No one will find out, Father,” said Mulan. She picked up her sword. "Mulan!" said the Father. He tried to get up but had to hold on to his chair. The daughter kissed him goodbye. "I love you, Father," she said. "Take care of yourself. Tell my brother I said goodbye." She climbed on a family horse. And off she went to join the Emperor’s army.

“And if they find out you are a woman, you know as well as I do that you will die!”

In the army, Mulan proved to be a brave soldier. In time, she was put in charge of other soldiers. Her battles went so well that she was put in charge of more soldiers. Her battles kept on going well. After a few years Mulan was given the top job - she would be General of the entire army. Not long after that, a very bad fever swept through the army. Many soldiers were sick. And Mulan became sick, too, the General of the army. When the doctor came out of Mulan's tent, he knew the truth. “The General is a woman?” yelled the soldiers. “How can this be?” Some called out, “She tricked us!” and “We will not fight for a woman!” They said, “Punish her! Make her pay! The cost is for her to die!” But others called out, in voices just as loud, “With Mulan, we win every battle!” They said, “Stay away from our General!” Just then, a soldier ran up. “Everyone!" he called. "A surprise attack is coming!” Mulan heard this from inside her tent. She got dressed and went outside. She was not yet strong, but stood tall. She told the soldiers where they must go to hide so they could attack when the enemy came. But they must get there fast! The soldiers, even those who did not like that their General was a woman, could tell that Mulan knew what she was talking about. It worked! The battle was won. It was such a big victory that the enemy gave up, at last. The war was over, and China was saved! You can be sure that after that last battle, no one cared anymore that Mulan was a woman.

She told the soldiers where they must goo hide so they could attack when the enemy came.

The Emperor was so glad that Mulan had ended the long war, he set aside the rule about being a woman. “Mulan, stay with me in the palace,” he said. “Someone as smart as you would be a fine royal adviser.” Mulan bowed deeply. “You are too kind, Sire,” she said. “But if you please. What I wish most of all is to return home to my family.” “Then at least take these fine gifts,” said the Emperor. "So everyone at your home village will know how much the Emperor of China thinks of you." Mulan returned to her village with six fine horses and six fine swords. Everyone cheered that she was safe. The person who had saved China was their very own Mulan!

Banaag at Sikat Ni Lope K. Santos Pinangarap niya ang araw na mawawala ang mga hari, punumbayan atalagad ng batas, ang lahat ng tao’y magkakapantay-pantay at magtatamasa nglubos na kalayuan at patas na ginhawa sa buhay.Nang pilitin ng ama na umuwi sa kanilang bayan, siya’y sumunod. Subalititinuro niya sa mga kasama sa bukid at sa mga katulong sa bahay ang kanilangkarapatan. Sa galit ng ama, siya’y pinalayas at itinakwil bilang anak. Nagbalik siyasa dating pinapasukan sa Maynila at hinikayat si Tentay na pumisan sa kanya kahitdi kasal, sapagkat tutol siya sa mga seremonyas at lubos na naniniwala samalayang pag-ibig.Si Delfin ay hindi anarkista kundi sosyalista. Hindi niya hinangad na mawalaang pamahalaan ngunit katulad ni Felipe ay tutol siya sa pagkakaipon ngkayamanan sa ilang taong nagpapasasa sa ginhawa samantalang libu-libo angnagugutom, nagtitiis at namamatay sa karalitaan. Tutol din siya sa pagmamana ngmga anak sa kayamanan ng mga magulang. Siya’y isang mahirap na ulilang pinalakisa isang ale (tiya). Habang nag-aaral ng abogasya ay naglilingkod siya bilangmanunulat sa isang pahayagan. Kaibigan siya at kapanalig ni Felipe, bagamat hindikasing radikal nito.Nais ni Felipe ang maagang pagtatamo ng kanilang layunin, sukdang ito’ydaanin sa marahas na paraan, samantalang ang hangad ni Delfin ay dahan-dahangpag-akay sa mga tao upang mapawi ang kamangmangan ng masa at kasakiman ngiilang mayayaman, sa pamamagitan ng gradwal na pagpapasok sa Pilipinas ng mgasimulain ng sosyalismo.Si Don Ramon ay may dalawang anak na dalaga at isang anak na lalakingmay asawa na. Ang mga dalaga’y sina Talia at Meni. Si Talia ay naibigan ng isangabogado, si Madlanglayon. Ang kasal nila’y napakarangal at napakagastos, isangbagay na para kina Felipe at Delfin ay halimbawa ng kabukulan ng sistema nglipunan na pinangyayarihan ng mayayamang walang kapararakan kung lumustay ngsalapi samantalang libu-libong mamamayan ang salat na salat sa pagkain at sa ibapang pangunahing pangangailangan sa buhay.Sa tulong ni Felipe noong ito’y nakatira sa bahay ni Don Ramon, nakilala atnaibigan ni Delfin si Meni. Si Don Ramon ay tutol sa pangingibig ni Delfin sakanyang anak; dahil ito’y maralita, at ikalawa, dahil tahasang ipinahayag nito angkanyang pagkasosyalista sa isang paguusap nilang dalawa sa isang paliguan saAntipolo. Ang pagtutol na ito ay walang nagawa. Nakapangyari ang pag-ibighanggang sa magbinhi ang kanilang pagmamahalan.Nang mahalata na ni Talia at ni Madlanglayon ang kalagayan ni Meni, hindinila ito naipaglihim kay Don Ramon. Nagalit si Don Ramon; sinaktan nito si Meni athalos patayin. Sa amuki ni Madlanglayon, pumayag si Don Ramon na ipakasal siMeni kay Delfin, Subalit nagpagawa ng isang testamento na nag-iiwan ng lahat ngkayamanan sa dalawa niyang anak; si Meni ay hindi pinagmanahan. Si Meni ay nagtiis sa buhay-maralita sa bahay na pawid na tahanan ni Delfin.Paminsan-minsan, kung mahigpit ang pangangailangan, nagbibili siya ng mga damito nagsasangla ng kanyang mga alahas noong dalaga pa. Ito’y labis na dinaramdamat ikinahiya ni Delfin at ng kanyang ate, subalit wala naman silang maitakip sapangangailangan.Sa simula, si Meni ay dinadalaw ng dalawang kapatid, lalo na si Talia, atpinadadalhan ng pera at damit. Subalit ang pagdalaw ay dumalang nang dumalanghanggang tuluyang mahinto, ay gayon din ang ipinadadalang tulong. Samantala, siDon Ramon, sa laki ng kanyang kahihiyan sa lipunan dahil sa kalapastangangginawa ni Meni at ni Delfin, ay tumulak patungong Hapon, Estados Unidos atEuropa, kasama ang isang paboritong utusan. Wala na siyang balak bumalik saPilipinas. Nakalimutan niya ang pagwasak na nagawa niya sa karangalan ngmaraming babae na kanyang kinasama; ang tanging nagtanim sa kanyang isip ayang pagkalugso ng sariling karangalan sa

mata ng lipunan dahil sa kagagawan niMeni.Samantala, nagluwal ng isang sanggol na lalaki si Meni. Sa pagnanais namakapaghanda ng isang salu-salo sa binyag ng kanyang anak, susog sa mgakaugalian, si Meni ay nagsangla ng kanyang hikaw, sa kabila ng pagtutol ni Delfinna tutol sa lahat ng karangyaan. Ang ninong sa binyag ay si Felipe na hindi lamangmakatanggi sa kaibigan, subalit kontra rin sa seremonyas ng pagbibinyag. Bilanganarkista ay laban siya sa lahat ng pormalismo ng lipunan. Sa karamihan ng mgapangunahing dumalo, kumbidado’t hindi, ay kamuntik nang kulangin ang handa nilaDelfin, salamat na lamang at ang kusinero ay marunong ng mga taktikangnakasasagip sa gayong pangyayari.Ang kasiyahan ng binyagan ay biglang naputol sa pagdating ng isangkablegrama na nagbabalitang si Don Ramon ay napatay ng kanyang kasamangutusan sa isang hotel sa New York. Nang idating sa daungan ang bangkay,sumalubong ang lahat ng manggagawa sa pagawaan ng tabako sa atas ni DonFelimon, kasosyo ni Don Ramon, na nagbabalang hindi pasasahurin sa susunod naSabado ang lahat ng hindi sasalubong.Kasama sa naghatid ng bangkay sa Pilipinas si Ruperto, ang kapatid niTentay na malaon nang nawawala. Pagkatapos makapaglibot sa Pilipinas, kasamang isang Kastilang kinansalaan niya sa maliit na halaga, siya’y ipinagbili o ipinahingisa isang kaibigang naglilingkod sa isang tripulante. Dahil dito, nakapagpalibot siyasa iba’t ibang bansa sa Aprika at Europa, at pagkatapos ay nanirahan sa Cuba atCalifornia, at sa wakas ay namalagi sa New York. Doon siya nakilala at nagingkaibigan ng utusang kasama ni Don Ramon na naninirahan sa isang hotel namalapit sa bar na kanyang pinaglilingkuran. Si Ruperto ang nagsabi kay Felipe nakaya pinatay si Don Ramon ay dahil sa kalupitan nito sa kanyang kasamang utusan.Ang libing ni Don Ramon ay naging marangya, kagaya ng kasal ni Talia.Hanggang sa libingan ay dala-dala pa ng mayamang pamilya ni Don Ramon angugali ng karangyaan ng pananalat at paghihirap ng maraming mamamayan. Salibingan ay Naiwan sina Delfin at Felipe na inabot ng talipsilim sa pagpapalitan ngkurokuro at paniniwala.Naalaala ni Felipe ang kaawa-awang kalagayan ng mga kasama’t utusan ngkanyang ama. Nasambit ni Delfin ang kawalang pag-asa para sa maralitang mga mamamayan habang namamalagi sa batas ang karapatan ng mga magulang namagpamana ng yaman at kapangyarihan sa mga anak. Nagunita nila ang laganapna kamangmangan at mga pamahiin, ang bulag na pananampalataya.Kakailanganin ang mahaba at walang hanggang paghihimagsik laban sa mgakasamang umiiral. Marami pang bayani ang hinihingi ang panahon. Kailanganglumaganap ang mga kaisipang sosyalista, hindi lamang sa iisang bansa kundi sabuong daigdig bago matamo ang tunay at lubos na tagumpay. Napag-usapan ninaFelipe at Delfin ang kasaysayan ng anarkismo at sosyalismo – ang paglaganap nitosa Europa, sa Aprika, at sa Estados Unidos. Sinabi ni Felipe na ang ilang buhay nanapuputi sa pagpapalago ng mga ideyang makamaralita ay kakaunti kung ipaparissa napakamaraming tao na araw araw ay pinahihirapan. Subalit matigas angpaninindigan ni Delfin laban sa ano mang paraang magiging daan ng pagdanak ngdugo.Sa kabila ng pagkakaibang ito ng kanilang paninindigan ay nagkaisa sila sapagsasabi, sa kanilang pag-alis sa libingan, noong gumagabi na, “Tayo na: iwannati’t palipasin ang diin ng gabi.  

 

Ramayana India Summary Dasharatha was the King of Ayodhya and had three wives and four sons. Rama was the eldest and his mother was Kaushalya. Bharata was the son of Dasharatha’s second and favorite wife, Queen Kaikeyi. The other two were twins, Lakshmana and Shatrughna whose mother was Sumithra. In the neighboring city the ruler’s daughter was named Sita. When it was time for Sita to choose her bridegroom (at a ceremony called a swayamvara) princes from all over the land were asked to string a giant bow which no one could lift. However, as Rama picked it up, he not only strung the bow, he broke it. Seeing this, Sita indicated that she had chosen Rama as her husband by putting a garland around his neck. Their love became a model for the entire kingdom as they looked over the kingdom under the watchful eye of his father the king. A few years later, King Dasharatha decided it was time to give his throne to his eldest son Rama and retire to the forest. Everyone seemed pleased, save Queen Kaikeyi since she wanted her son Bharata to rule. Because of an oath Dasharatha had made to her years before, she got the king to agree to banish Rama for fourteen years and to crown Bharata, even though the king pleaded with her not to demand such a request. The devastated King could not face Rama and it was Queen Kaikeyi who told Rama the King’s decree. Rama, always obedient, was content to go into banishment in the forest. Sita and Lakshmana accompanied him on his exile. One day Rama and Lakshmana wounded a rakshasas (demon) princess who tried to seduce Rama. She returned to her brother Ravana, the ten-headed ruler of Lanka. In retaliation, Ravana devised a plan to abduct Sita after hearing about her incomparable beauty. He sent one of his demons disguised as a magical golden deer to entice Sita. To please her, Rama and Lakshmana went to hunt the deer down. Before they did though, they drew a protective circle around Sita and told her that she would be safe for as long as she did not step outside the circle. After Rama and Lakshmana left, Ravana appeared as a holy man begging alms. The moment Sita stepped outside the circle to give him food, Ravana grabbed her and carried her to his kingdom in Lanka. Rama then sought the help of a band of monkeys offer to help him find Sita. Hanuman, the general of the monkey band can fly since his father is the wind. He flew to Lanka and, finding Sita in the grove, comforted her and told her Rama would come to save her soon. Ravana’s men captured Hanuman, and Ravana ordered them to wrap Hanuman's tail in cloth and to set it on fire. With his tail burning, Hanuman escaped and hopped from house-top to house-top, setting Lanka on fire. He then flew back to Rama to tell him where Sita was. Rama, Lakshmana and the monkey army built a causeway from the tip of India to Lanka and crossed over to Lanka where a cosmic battle ensued. Rama killed several of Ravana’s brothers and eventually confronted the ten-headed Ravana. He killed Ravana, freed Sita and after Sita proved here purity, they returned to Ayodhya where Bharata returned the crown to him. to Lanka where a cosmic battle ensued. Rama killed several of Ravana’s brothers and eventually confronted the ten-headed Ravana. He killed Ravana, freed Sita and after Sita proved here purity, they returned to Ayodhya where Bharata returned the crown to him.  

 

America Old Mother Goose and Her Son Jack by Joseph Martin Kronheim         

Old Mother Goose lived in a cottage with her son Jack. Jack was a very good lad, and although he was not handsome, he was good-tempered and industrious, and this made him betterlooking than half the other boys. Old Mother Goose carried a long stick, she wore a highcrowned hat, and high-heeled shoes, and her kerchief was as white as snow. Then there was the Gander that swam in the pond, and the Owl that sat on the wall. So you see they formed a very happy family. But what a fine strong fellow the Gander was! Whenever Old Mother Goose wanted to take a journey, she would mount upon his broad strong back, and away he would fly and carry her swiftly to any distance. Now Old Mother Goose thought her Gander often looked sad and lonely; so one day she sent Jack to market to buy the finest Goose he could find. It was early in the morning when he started, and his way lay through a wood. He was not afraid of robbers; so on he went, with his Mother's great clothes-prop over his shoulder. The fresh morning air caused Jack's spirits to rise. He left the road, and plunged into the thick of the wood, where he amused himself by leaping with his clothes-prop till he found he had lost himself. After he had made many attempts to find the path again, he heard a scream. He jumped up and ran boldly towards the spot from which the sound came. Through an opening in the trees he saw a young lady trying to get away from a ruffian who wanted to steal her mantle. With one heavy blow of his staff Jack sent the thief howling away, and then went back to the young lady, who was lying on the ground, crying. She soon dried her tears when she found that the robber had made off, and thanked Jack for his help. The young lady told Jack that she was the daughter of the Squire, who lived in the great white house on the hill-top. She knew the path out of the wood quite well, and when they reached the border, she said that Jack must come soon to her father's house, so that he might thank him for his noble conduct.

When Jack was left alone, he made the best of his way to the market-place. He found little trouble in picking out the best Goose, for when he got there he was very late, and there was but one left. But as it was a prime one, Jack bought it at once, and keeping to the road, made straight for home. At first the Goose objected to be carried; and then, when she had walked along slowly and gravely for a short time, she tried to fly away; so Jack seized her in his arms and kept her there till he reached home. Old Mother Goose was greatly pleased when she saw what a fine bird Jack had bought; and the Gander showed more joy than I can describe. And then they all lived very happily for a long time. But Jack would often leave off work to dream of the lovely young lady whom he had rescued in the forest, and soon began to sigh all day long. He neglected the garden, cared no more for the Gander, and scarcely even noticed the beautiful Goose. But one morning, as he was walking by the pond, he saw both the Goose and the Gander making a great noise, as though they were in the utmost glee. He went up to them and was surprised to find on the bank a large golden egg. He ran with it to his mother, who said, “Go to market, my son; sell your egg, and you will soon be rich enough to pay a visit to the Squire.” So to market Jack went, and sold his golden egg; but the rogue who bought it of him cheated him out of half his due. Then he dressed himself in his finest clothes, and went up to the Squire's house. Two footmen stood at the door, one looking very stout and saucy, and the other sleepy and stupid. When Jack asked to see the Squire, they laughed at him, and made sport of his fine clothes; but Jack had wit enough to offer them each a guinea, when they at once showed him to the Squire's room. Now the Squire, who was very rich, was also very proud and fat, and scarcely turned his head to notice Jack; but when he showed him his bag of gold, and asked for his daughter to be his bride, the Squire flew into a rage, and ordered his servants to throw him into the horse-pond. But this was not so easy to do, for Jack was strong and active; and then the young lady come out and begged her father to release him. This made Jack more deeply in love with her than ever, and he went home determined to win her in spite of all. And well did his wonderful Goose aid him in

his design. Almost every morning she would lay him a golden egg, and Jack, grown wiser, would no longer sell them at half their value to the rogue who had before cheated him. So Jack soon grew to be a richer man than the Squire himself. His wealth became known to all the country round, and the Squire at length consented to accept Jack as his son-in-law. Then Old Mother Goose flew away into the woods on the back of her strong Gander, leaving the cottage and the Goose to Jack and his bride, who lived happily ever afterwards.  

Fool of The King

Fool of The King : Africa Long ago there lived a king. Writers, poets and musicians came from many places to see him. The king  liked to hear their stories, poems and music. But there was one man whom the king liked better than  the others. His name was Mahamood. He knew many tricks, sang funny songs and danced well. He could  make the king laugh and the people called Mahamood the Fool of The King. There was one thing that  the king did not like in Mahamood. He ate very much. This little man ate from morning till night.       The king thought, "My poor Mahamood will die soon if he eats so much."       Then he called together all his ministers and servants and said, "Listen to me. For one day you must not  give Mahamood anything to eat. Do not give him wine, nor fruit, nor meat. Do not give him even a piece  of bread! He must not sit at my table. He must not have anything to eat the whole day."       "Oh, yes, my King, that's right. He is too fat," said one of the ministers. So the next day there was no  place for Mahamood at the king's table. He went to the wall and stood there. He thought, "I shall wait.  Soon the servants will bring me food and drink."       But the servants did not bring him anything. He did not ask for food, because he was afraid of the king.       "If a man makes the king angry, that man will die," he thought.       Poor Mahamood was very hungry. Then one of the servants dropped a little piece of bread. Mahamood  quickly picked it up. Now I have something to eat," he thought. 'I shall eat it when the king is not looking  at me."       When dinner was over, the poets read their poems, the musicians played and the dancing girls began  their beautiful dances.       "Now the king is watching the dancing girls," thought Mahamood, "I shall eat my piece of bread." But  the king was watching Mahamood all the time. He asked the musicians to stop, called Mahamood to  come to him and asked, "I hear that you have a donkey. Where did you get It?"    

  "I bought it in Tripoli, my King!" answered Mahamood. "Oh, I see," said the king.       So the musicians were playing and the girls were dancing. Then Mahamood wanted to eat his piece of  bread. But the king asked him to come nearer and said.       "How much did you pay for your donkey in Tripoli?"       Mahamood put the bread in his pocket quickly and answered. "Sixteen gold coins, my King." The king  went on like this all the afternoon.       When Mahamood tried to eat his piece of bread, the king always asked him a question. At last evening  came. Mahamood could not stand. He was so hungry and tired. When the feast was over, Mahamood  ran to the kitchen, but the kitchen was locked and Mahamood had only his small piece of bread to eat.  He ate it up and went to his room. But he could not sleep. He was very hungry.       Then he ran to the king's room. He knocked at the door. The king asked angrily, "Who is knocking at my  door so late?"       "Oh, my King," said Mahamood. "I am sorry, but I must tell you that I did not buy my donkey in Tripoli,  but in Benghazi."       The king thanked him and told him to go away.       A few minutes later Mahamood knocked at the door again. "Oh, my King, but I told you a lie this  afternoon. I did not pay sixteen gold coins for the donkey. I paid twenty gold coins for it."       "Oh, you fool," cried the angry king. "I shall cut off your head for your silly tales about the donkey and  give your body to the jackals!"       Mahamood listened to the king and smiled: "Oh, yes, I know that. But before I die may I say my last  wish? Only one wish!"       "What is your last wish?" asked the king.       "My last wish is to have a good supper."  

    The king understood everything. He laughed and told his servants to bring the best food to his room. He  sat down at the table with Mahamood. They ate and laughed until morning came. After that Mahamood  was never without food. And he was always happy.    

The Fall of the Bodies (Latin America) 

IT WAS AUTUMN; the leaves fell from the trees like paper rain, fine and delicate, fragile to the touch of the wind or a child’s steps. Yellow, ochre, brown and orange seemed to weave a carpet along the streets, softening their appearance. In those days, the town was covered with a colored blanket, an all-encompassing patchwork blanket. If anyone opened their front door, the leaves would soon reach the hallway, the rooms. Any attempt at cleaning was useless; the wind moved the blanket from one place to another. With so much swishing the streets were a piece of sea, a tanned sea filled with fragmented waves, smelling of salt and fish, perfumed by a woman’s sex. Because not even the man’s emissions were that penetrating. No: it was the fragrance spilt by a woman, a woman satisfied by her man; it was, in exclusive, the town covered with the perfume of her sex, wrapped up in her taste. Who were they? Where did they come from? Why did they turn up there? No one ever guessed or could even imagine the reason behind the actions of the man and the woman, the explanation of their behavior, and over the years all the versions contradicted each other. That the man was dark and strong like solid chocolate, so dark that his skin reflected certain shades of green, completely olive-coloured. The woman was white, like refined sugar or fresh milk. That he used to take his lovers from city to city and from town to town, and that she was the chosen one this time. Or rather: that she was hounded by a jealous husband and two neglected children, it was his fault. Or that both of them were the victims of a great tragedy: the death of their newborn baby, a failed business, eviction from a house, relentless pursuit by their creditors. Although they never seemed worried, perhaps only saddened, people murmured around them. That the man was no longer dark: not white, not black either, a cup of milky coffee. The woman was: black, really black, an African goddess bathed by the sun. The truth is that the man and woman never spoke. They appeared one autumn day and in the most natural and illogical way moved into one of those falling-down houses that no one could remember who owned. They walked for hours to get there, from no one knows where. And that same day, as soon as they pushed the door open, they made love. It is said that they didn’t care about the dirt or the dust, or the cobwebs, and the dryness, his lips were like two prunes and she was on the verge of fainting several times, sick and malnourished for having not eaten for days, and they didn’t drink any water, nor made time for freshening up: their passion was eating them up inside, right to the bone, to the point of delirium. They say that their first encounter in that house was timid compared to those that followed: perhaps they dared to take the wooden boards off the windows and lie down on top of the hundreds of leaves that entered like a wave. And just like the first time, they both closed their eyes, indifferent to the early footsteps and the surprised cries of those who discovered them. It is said that only they could make love with such violence, like animals rolling around, like animals choking on their prey; and that later some tried in vain to imitate them. And the thing is that the man, while licking the woman’s breasts, made the roundness into matter for his mouth, as if instead of flesh he was sucking in a crème caramel; alternating its taste between the velvet of the thighs, the pulp of her belly and the lemon of her armpits.

They say that the man and the woman soon tired of their artificial confinement: it is impossible to reduce a love like this to a single space. Has anyone seen them? It is not certain. Heard them? The anxiety of their bodies was a hilarious thing, like laughter: displaying their love through open windows was no longer enough, the confinement gave them a severe headache. So it didn’t take them long to decide: that’s what the streets were for, to let their embrace grow. From then on, they needed no sheet or bed, none of the little commodities or luxuries: no creams, lotions, deodorants. For her, a dress. For him, trousers. Some say that they made love during the day, in broad daylight, with the rays of light on their faces. That she didn’t stop smiling and that her whole face was like an open sunflower following the trajectory of her man. Others say that they made love at night, under the coolness of the moon, under its brightness. And that they only kissed in the half-light. As for everything else, almost all of the versions coincided: their first time on the street was right in front of the abandoned house; afraid, perhaps, of people’s reactions. But nothing happened. That first time, the woman was laid down on top of the leaves (hot if it was day, damp if it was night). The man barely lifted the dress above the knees. There was no need to remove any clothing. She merely kept her legs raised to receive him better; he lowered his trouser zipper. They barely moved; from time to time a light shudder in the man’s hips. The few who saw them doubted or, astonished, couldn’t even make them out: were they shadows copulating or animals stuck together? Children? And instinctively or embarrassedly people covered their faces with their hands, quickly moving along, as though the vision were unbearable, fearful of becoming infected with some disease. Finding a man inside a woman is not common: it isn’t every day you see two paralyzed bodies in the street. That day (or that night) she took off her shoes and he copied her. Since then, people began to admire them: who were they? Where did they come from? Why did they arrive there? The man and the woman walked barefoot along the streets, barely hurting themselves. Just the odd scratch appeared. Their walk varied: sometimes she would walk ahead, sometimes him, and neither would turn to check the other was near. They didn’t hold hands. The most daring claimed that the man and the woman were lost souls, that they appeared there because their pilgrimage was tremendously long and extenuating, and that instead of walking on the leaves they floated above them; and there were the thousands of unbroken leaves, intact leaves, to prove it. Therefore, to deliver them from their burden, it would only be necessary to sprinkle them with a few drops of holy water. Contrary to what had happened on previous occasions, the rumor that a couple of exhibitionists or ghosts of exhibitionist ghosts had landed in the town spread pretty slowly. As if the town were responsible for a secret, of something beyond if strength and daily life, preferred to reserve comment. The fusion of those beings intimidated them and, heads bowed, opted for silence. Sin? Punishment? Pain? Impossible to predict. And the thing is that the man and the woman didn’t always seem happy.

After a few days, the man and the woman adventured out onto other streets, their sexes throbbing under their clothes. Walking and fornicating; fornicating and walking. They did it on every corner that they considered appropriate: opposite the post office, next to the school, in the entrance to the cinema, on the way out of the church. Him on top, her underneath. Him uncontrollable, her placid. Him choking, her screaming. And the legs trembling and confused. And the eyes open. And the hands clawing. And the hips. And the people refusing to see, hiding their amazement with greater sorrow. Didn’t they exist? Were they really ghosts? In two weeks the inevitable occurred. A twelve year old girl, wearing her almost brand new school uniform, was on her way home. She had to cross the main square. Absent, perhaps thinking about her homework or her duties with her younger brothers and sisters, blinked several times before rubbing her eyes with her hands: what was that? Two bodies? One? The girl slowly went towards the centre of the square, there was the vision. Two bodies, neither hallucinations nor ghosts; two bodies, one on top of the other, gyrating interminably among themselves. She recognized the movements: a couple of weeks ago her boyfriend had led her to the most remote rooms of the school and covered her as a man does a woman. Rubbing her eyes, the girl got as close as she could without looking away, longing to touch those two bodies, to feel the heat in her hand, to copy them. And just when she discovered that the man and the woman were observing her, too, the books slipped out of her hands and, in view of her clumsiness, she started to laugh open-mouthed, showing the row of her teeth. Some say that the girl’s laughter was happy, like the song of a dove; other say that the laughter was like a cry, as if someone were strangling her. They say that the laughter, cry, resounded throughout the town and that the people immediately went to the square to see what was happening. Children, young people, adults, old people, one at a time, the inhabitants of the town gathered in the square, around the man and the woman, with the laughter or cry in their ears, contemplating the child paralyzed before the bodies. They say that some, those who couldn’t see, climbed onto the benches and others climbed the trees: it isn’t every day that you see a man devoured by a woman on the street. And it isn’t that they were doing anything different now, maybe they perfected some movements and executed the rocking more smoothly, upsetting in their wake the sea of all those leaves. It was impossible to tell which of the two was pushing, which was inside, which was outside: both were sunk in a slow and seductive breeze that emanated from the centre of their bones. They say that the first to get undressed was the girl. How quickly she got rid of her uniform and unzipped the first trousers she could find to then lie on the leaves. That she was the first and that the others immediately copied her, surrendering to their own urges. Trousers, shirts, blouses, skirts, shoes, belts, all accumulated together and it was only possible to contemplate the fall of the bodies: bodies falling on top of other bodies, like a shower of leaves. The contortion of

multiple hips, the intertwining of legs. The hands of the leaves. The crushing. The fingers of the leaves. The pressure. The bodies (the leaves) fell like drops of water into a sea, an overcoat of clothes: yellow, ochre, the hundreds of shades of brown and the great variety of orange tones seemed to weave a carpet with the gold and the pink, with the white. The bodies, clean, recently bathed, free of modesty, matching the leaves. A compact blanket covered the town in an instant. They say that it was impossible to hold back, that the salty smell of the woman was extremely penetrating, that all the bodies were touched by her taste and that, expectant, they awaited the end: to join in the warmth of a single embrace, to open their mouths and senses in a single caress. They say that only then did the man close his eyes again and that with one hand closed the woman’s eyes. And that the next day, when the inhabitants of the town awoke and opened the doors of their houses, they discovered autumn in the arrival of winter.  

Sonnet29 William Shakespeare

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featur’d like him, like him with friends possess’d, Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state, Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings  

The last enemy that shall be destroyed. The Last Enemy that shall be Destroyed Gasping. Fresh air fills your lungs. Scaldingly cold. Opening your eyes, a blinding white room occupies your vision. Again. A profluent voice issues into your head, “You have been revived by your loving government. You have experienced a near death experience. Please remember than intentional deletion is not permitted in the United Kingdom. If you wish to be deleted, please present your application to a local branch.” Slowly, you heave your new body off a coroner’s table. The world sways slightly. Fixer drugs do that to you. Wandering through a hallway filled with debris, you reach the high arcing front door. Barely impressive anymore, you pass under the crumbling masonry without a second glance. On the street, the soft cascades of a thousand footfalls meet your ears. The seeping stench of a thousand beings assaults your senses. The whispered troubles of a thousand defuncts weigh down your conscience. You are wearing exactly the same clothing as you were before, in exactly the same state of disheveled disrepair. From the pocket of your ageing leather jacket you pull a small notebook. Another tally mark, another revival, the 23rd this week. Flipping to the middle, you read a random diary entry from decades ago. 20th January 2038 I revived for the 100th time today! They say the government sends you a gift at 100; I hope it’s wine. Wine is so much sweeter when I don’t have to worry about my liver! The nurses were very kind. Everyone loves this new system. The news this morning said that Earth’s population has reached 1.5 trillion! What about the resources though? Surely there aren’t enough? But I guess when people starve or whatever, they just get revived, so they probably don’t really care? Starving doesn’t really hurt that much. Does it? You laugh darkly and murmur to yourself, “Yes, starving does hurt that much. And it wasn’t wine.” You close the notebook wearily. Slipping it back into your pocket, you slowly force yourself to stand. One step forward and the endless crowd sweeps you away down the street. Hundreds of faceless people; you've seen them all before. Murmurs of broken languages no one cares to use anymore. You are carried along the worn-down flagstones until a towering office building comes into view. You push your way out of the human river and onto the deserted curb. A broken window at the rear of the skyscraper becomes your makeshift entrance. A looted atrium greets you. You welcome the break from the automatons. This has been your haven since you swam into the Atlantic, searching for your cure, and got revived in Plymouth, Britain by accident. Hundreds of deep gouges in the wall represent your resentment. Puddles of blood from various attempts, some you don’t even remember. A few nooses, some knives, one degraded nine-millimetre. Everything is corroded; the alloys in steel gave out years ago. Rust rules this once-polished world. You withdraw your diary once more and, flicking to a page further into the book, read another entry. 31st December 2167 I gave in and sent my application today. Maybe they will process me quickly. No one has been deleted in the last few months; I wonder what the clog up is? A new church has opened down the road, “The Deletionists”. They preach about reaching ‘deletion’ and life returning to how it was before. Why would we want that? Uneducated fools. The government employees on my street all had their deletion applications rushed through last week - it was pretty strange. Maybe the work was too much for them. Empty reflection; you never received that deletion That church faded out, all the churches faded out. It was hard to believe in a god when life never ended. You haven’t seen another government employee. Did they know something they didn’t tell us? How many years has it been? More than 200. You stopped keeping a calendar when the industrial one ran out of days. It’s been a long time. Always the same people; no one has children anymore. Why would you? Rousing yourself roughly from your nostalgic thoughts, you walk to the far end of the

lobby. Climbing a once-lavish staircase up through fourty-five floors. You wander down corridors of peeling paint. Into a fire well. Up an emergency stair. Out a dented trap door. A bleak, concrete landscape greets you, flues staggering the broad panorama. You weave across the surface, coming to the cement rim. A memory floods your conscious. A bureaucrat was preaching to the assembled masses, “the new revival system will improve the lives of each and every US citizen, our dream of living forever is now a reality.” You looked down at the young girl holding your hand. She looked back, her small face creased in worry, “Don’t people want to die when they get old?” You smiled at her, “No, no one really wants to die.” The city skyline reoccupies your mind. You grimace at the recollection. Maybe this time it will work. Perhaps the beyond will encompass you, hold you, rather than spitting you back into this cyclic hell. Maybe Buddha was right; you just need to reach Nirvana, neutralise your karma. Heaven will eat you, and you can be gone. But until then, you are stuck in this endless system, darkness to darkness. What is left to hope for? You open your eyes. Cold. White. So alive and so very dead.