More than love

And we was walking along the rode talking and talking about everything joking and laughing like we nevr did and it was one second that the silence took place he was walking a little in front of me and i was looking at him silently with sparkling eyes and saying to myself 'what would i do without you' yep he was one of the things that im living for as he was my source of happiness and my strength ..he combled my life..wherevr i go thers people bullying , people bedates,fakeness and unreality but it isnt the same with him, he is so real i could feel this whenever he smiled to me. with him i feel so safe, with him i feel home, he is my own whole universe, my refuge and its more than love, the word love mean nothing frm what im feeling for him..it took little time that tears started to shad i actually don't know why maybe it was happiness or gratitude tears, i was so glad ive been destined to be with that someone i adore i hold the tears that he wont notice and suddenly while he was next to me like twin flame and he is my twin flame,he took my hand and held it tenderly saying that word that always had to warm up my heart, i love you<3 it made me smile.. in my head, i was telling him 'ow my dear, you have no idea how much im blessed to have you and how much i more love you..' like he was reading my mind, he came closer and hugged me so tight that i could feel his heart beating, that time i felt a really indiscribable and intense feeling i didnt knew what it was its more intense than 'love' i just hugged him tighter and wished we could stay like this forever..

 Author: Yosr Larbi

Ma fugue..

Anéantie par le chagrin,avec un coeur en flammes, je m'assois par une belle fin de journée estivale sur le bord de ma fenêtre a contempler le beau coucher de soleil..meditant l'horizon, emportée par la miroblance de ce paysage édénique, j'admire la grâce des rayons légers de ce soleil magique, qui ajoutent a la pureté de ce beau ciel bleu une touche d'un merveilleu néant rouge.. Quel charmant tableau ! réchauffant mon cœur de porcelaine, ce magnifique paysage est pour le moment la seule chose qui a pu dessiner le sourire sur mon visage, c'est tout à fait normale! la nature a toujours était mon seul refuge quand je me sens mal. C'est là ou je m'erre et je m'evade quand m'etouffe la grisaille de cette vie..Tel un enfant en fugue, je m'enfuis pour retrouver, l'amour vrai et la tendresse chez mère nature, je retrouve la divinité, la magie qui manque au quotidien, le merveilleux, le réel, des notions très rares, peu trouvables dans ce faux monde, ce monde sophiste ..

Auteur: Larbi Yosr

Wishes..

"It is on the books and tattooed in my brain. Breathing words and staring pages. I don't know how she got there and how to join her. I wouldn't ask her. But I know I will get there.
I wouldn't ask her.
I won't ask her.
Don't ask her."

"-Excuse me.
These eyes.
-Yes.
-I, uh, am a reader. I love your books, so much it made me wonder: what kind of magic do you use?
This voice.
-It's magic. A pit no one sees it's bottom but me.
This face.
-I see. But seriously, I want to do stuff like yours but it's hard. I can't bring myself to.
-You'll figure a way out.
And I walk away. I have to walk away. But it surprises me as much as it frightens me; all my life I've seen faces and eyes so beautiful but wasn't startled much. Not that hard. Not that bad. I am blushing. He is staring. Probably raging, swearing never to touch my books again. What was I supposed to say? One stupid phrase I'd call writing advice, definitely. Now, I'm already yards away. God, I shouldn't have walked away. Not too soon. Not too weirdly.
Well, let's just hope it gets buried under the days to come."

"I must have been brutal. I must have been rude. The sight of her walking away doesn't leave me for days. How long has it been already? Oh yeah. A month. A whole long month without one other thought but that.
I should have expected it. Writers never give their secrets no matter what they tell you. Never count on a magician to explain his game. As grandmother says.
Damn, I must have looked bad.
Damn. The homework. Focus on the homework.
Crap. I must have been bad. Did I comb my hair neatly before I left. God."

"'You got mail.'
'Oh yeah?'
'I can read it for you if you want.'
'No. Private.'
'Seriously? Fan mail is private?'
I turn the laptop to me as my friend eyes me suspiciously.
'No boyfriend. I swear.'
She smiles and goes back to her book.
It's a plain, so unextraordinary mail. The last line made my head spin.
'I might have freaked you out the last time. My apologies. Won't try to put my head into that pit of secrets of yours again. Keep the good writing on.'
He didn't include a name, nor did he leave a letter. Anonymous. Gorgeous. Mysterious.
I hate it when my mind goes empty just to echo his voice. Rhyming stupid things about him.
I don't even know him."

"'Look! Oh, no. Look buddy, she answered me. Ah!'
I read the mail six times to make out the meaning for my mind couldn't stop screaming her name and every word was an echo of my thoughts.
Damn, who had known there would come a day where I'd receive a mail from a famous person.
'Hey. I owe you a walk.' I shout at my dog as my mind screams I'M GOING TO WALK INTO YOU SOMEWHERE NEAR THE PARK.
Stupid, stupid mind."

"He doesn't email back. Damn. Must have sounded too pretentious. Too aggressive, maybe? Naah, I would never say stupid things about writing. No advise. These are just lies to boost hope. I'm not a liar, even if it demands to ignore his questions.
If he really wants to be writer, he'd figure out a way. Someway. God knows how badly I suffered to get here."

"Everything I type is not good enough. Doubt is home. It makes everything I try to make dead. I'm afraid I'd mess everything up with this bad writing. I print her mail out, stick it above my bed and stare at it every morning. What makes me go all day with a smile on the face."

"He'd email."

"She'd email."

"Maybe she's busy writing her new book."

"Maybe his busy figuring a way out."

"But no matter what."

"I'm waiting."

"And I found it. The right thing to write to her. One short story someone from secondary school sent me back when all the girls crushed on me. It is nothing much. Hilarious. Awful. It'd be funny if I sent it to her and told her the story. I'd tell her how bad writing could be without the guidance of masters like her, not that I write that badly bug enough to make her drop at least one little peace of advice.
And send me something.
Her other mail, I got it by heart."

"EMAIL.
He says he's got something to share. A story from the old days someone *not special* sent him.
I think he'd cute. The I think he's the cutest. No he's what happens when beautiful and handsome meet. He's everything.
He.."

"She never email back. And it's been three weeks since I sent mine. I start to worry. Maybe I sounded too mean?"

"That story. I wrote it. He's that boy from school. He's been too mean. When I thought I had no friend and thought he was kind. I sent it to him. It seemed brilliant by the time. He threw it on my face and said I'm not worth his time. I didn't even mean it as a love confession.
All his old mails, everything. I delete. Delete, delete, delete. Then smash the laptop. Smash the desk. Kick the walls.
In my head.
I don't dare touch my laptop. His emails will stare back at me, remind me of the bad days. He came back to unearth the past.
Damn him. Damn.
Beautiful is a lie but no one could tell.
And me, I get what I get and nothing more."

"One mail, two, three. One million."

"I will never open them."

"I will never rest.
I google her name."

"Does he know I'm using a pseudonym?"

"March, June, July, August.
August 31.
Her birthday.
The author that made hard times easier and kept me up all night. And a good-hearted person."

"So many Fan Mail.
Every kind word makes a difference. I spend half the day responding to them. All of them.
And one. Just one. Kept me up that night."

"'I'm sorry.
Time is just like the tide. It takes everything with it.
It spins us. And the lonely girl with the long braid is a grand writer. The mean boy with the sharp words is crazily, deeply into everything she makes.
I'm sorry, Yosr'"

Author:Wiem Jelleli

Fantasy..

CHAPTER I:
once upon a time, somewhere called sad reality, at that magical part of the day that we call ''night'', where our minds can be free of our bodys, our reality and our sad feelings and finally creat its own worlds and swim in that world we call it 'dreams', liying in his bed, with a flaming heart , in his dead girlfriend's birthday and hurting by people arround him, mahdi couldn't sleep , he just lied on his bed tearing so quitly to calm down his overflowed heart , not so long, he stand up and opened a locker at the corner of the room where he still preserve a red old rose, by the time, it started to get black , a rose from his first date with her, he still have that rose although all that time, he hold it with both hands just scared if he damages it, and put it at his chest pocket, he wore his jacket, and while it was raining so hard outside he wanted to walk alone under the rain, wanted to smell it, and feel it wetting him, as he used to do with her, he climbed down the stairs to the door, got his embrella and opened the door and he left.., and while he started walking.. thinking and observing the ground in a long empty road he noticed his shadow reflection, but it seemed for him that his shadow was holding another shadow's hand and walk, and suddenly they started dancing so happy and end there beautiful dance by a warm kiss... it seemed to be her shadow.., he closed his eyes with a smile to let a warm tear fall down from them ''why did u left me in this cruel world'' he said quitly... he walked and walked until a old little bridge then he took out that little red rose , and threw it in the river down of that bridje whispering ''happy birthday'' joined by a fake a smile full of sadnes...
at the same time while everybody was sleeping rasha was resting on her bed and looking at the stars through her window, with a shining red eyes which got tired of nights crying, [rasha] because she was a different girl who would like to wear different clothes, and cut her hair to keep it short, the little poor was rejected by her friends and school mates, she was hurted too much, until she became afreading people and avoiding them, she even locked her self for a whole week in her house, she didn't want to see anyone any more, she got enough from peoples and prefered to hide herself, and keep alone, but infact she wasn't totally alone, she had a beautiful french cat, who was her only friend to talk with..
when it started to rain, it was the beganing of the automn, and the rain didn't fall for long time... ''look its rain mitchel'' said rasha to her cat, while he was sleeping on her stomach, but he stared at her and closed his eyes like he understood her and felt calm.., rasha loved the rain, sence she was young she beleived that rain is a crying cloud, crying because she was hitted by light, and that's why we see the light first, then the rain falls, and as long as the light got stronger, the rain falls more and more.. isn't it funny and beautiful that innocent childrens thinking?.. she puted mitchel on the bed and went to the window and opened it to smell that beautiful smell of rain mixed with the dust, a smell that she missed for the whole summer..
rasha couldn't wait to get out of her bunker and walk in the rain, its a opportunity that the street is empty, she walked to the door and opened it slowly, like she is afraid of what is behind it, but she closed her eyes,took a breath and opened it and made a step outside, she wanted so badly to walk in the rain tell she forget her imbrella and she didn't want to comeback, she wanted to let the rain fall on her face and on her body, she turned her face to the sky and closed her eyes and opened her arms, and draw a little beautiful smile on her face, but suddenly she a memory flash of her childhood.. and how she was dancing in the rain just like now.. she was living the both moments in the same time, while she remembered how happy she was and how she became now, she couldn't hold it and let her self cry again, they were tears of joy mixed with tears of sigh and sadnes, then she kept walking.. she walked and walked.. tottally wet while her head down and her hair covering her eyes thinking of her miserable life when she reached a turn of the street, she suddenly hitted somone by mistake, she didn't expect to find anyone at that late houre while its raining, ''ow, i'm sorry , i.. i didn't see you'' she said apologetically and surprised at the same time, ''oh, its okay its okay my mistake i was walking and my eyes to the ground'' he answered, (and you my dear reader perhabs should notice that it is mahdi who went out in the same streets and met her by this consedence), ''well its okay'' said rasha smiling, then a moment of silence went between them enabled them to keep staring to eachother faces where mahdi noticed her red eyes but couldn't see her tears because they were mixed with the rain on her face, but when mahdi was not wet because he was holding a embrella, his tears were so clear for her, but when he noticed her staring at them for long he drain them off so quickly and said '' miss, you must be feeling cold you are so wet'' while he was moving his embrella obove her head so he can cover her, ''
-''its okay.. its okay i'm fine that way'' said rasha trying to fake a smile
_''but i can see you'r mouth quivering and you'r lips are turning bleu, are you sure miss? , but at least take my jacket, if you want i'll give you a ride by my embrella to you'r house''
rasha was really feeling cold, but she didn't really care that moment she were just walking in a endless road, but when he puted his long warm jacket on her weak wet body she gave up for that sweet warmnes and included the jacket on her
-'' no please , not my house'' she said
rasha was so confiused, she never expected this, she felt like its not reality, but she even for the first time, and because mahdi was a kind gentelmen, rasha felt safe with a stranger she just met.
-"then, where?"
-"i just wanna go among the rain"
-''alright my name is mahdi by the way'' he said while moving his hand to greet her
-''i'm rasha glad to meet you. in this situation'' said while laughing
mahdi gaved a little smile and said
-''am, if u don't wanna go home then i think there is a park not far away from here...''
-''you mean the wishes park''?
-'' yes ,that one, wanna go there? ''
-" seems perfect !''
-'' great, ow and there is a bar in our way i think it still works at this houre, a hot coffee at least will make you feel a little bit warmer''
-'' ah yes i think its just what i need at this moment'' whisped rasha with a shie a smile''
and they continued there way and stoped at the bar, they got in and while rasha went to the fireplace to warm her frozen little hands, mahdi went to buy some hot coffee to warm them a litte bit..
while she was sitting and staring at the fire he came and said:
-''i don't know wich you prefer the coffee with or without cream, so i bought them both, this night is too cold for a single cup of coffee anyway'' said mahdi joking to rasha
rasha gave a light smile and said -''but what will you do with the third extra one?''
-''ow i didn't really... think.. of that'' said mahdi while looking at the cup and confused and continued
''but we'll give it to the very first someone we'll find on the way"
-"you mean the first ghost we will find at this time''
mahdi gave a little laugh and puted his hand on rasha's shoulder and said, ''lets go out we don't want to miss this automn's first rain"...
while the two broken heart birds were going on there way pretending happines and wearing smiling masks while they were actually dying inside , they were just walking in silent and enjoying the sound of rain, a sound that many hearts missed it for a long time, when they approched to the big door of the park, they saw a ghost wearing a white clothes, they got a little bit scared at first but mahdi moved to check it and while he was moving closer and closer it seemed like the ghost is dancing, when he reached the rods of the door of the park, he kept watching from behind to see a girl wearing a ballet tutu and dancing...
then rasha stepped next to him and they watched.. it amazed them how every aspect of her movement is so precise, so perfect. The grace that this dancer is able to show in her dance took there breathe away every time. her toes are pointed, her arms are extended, her flexibility is at it's best. Most people see their dances as way of entertainment, nothing special. But to her, dancing was her only way to say what's in her heart she was dancing and smiling and crying, she mix both feelings, happines and sadnes, in one dance, just buy looking at her, u can imagine the song she is dancing on..
her name was asma.. , [asma] was consedensly for the same reasons in the same place and the same time, asma was a kind perfect girl, she was different then others, she were that kind of people who dreams of a better world where there is no wars no inocent people die , and no poor people suffers because the riches wanted the war she dreamed of a better society, she feel happy by helping people , she were too simply that rare kind of people who are extincting by the time..
also, asma was a good ballet dancer, she dance sence she were three years old, she remember how her grandfather took her every saturday to this park where she can dance so happy, for asma, the only man who she really loved was her grandphather, his name was mr alfred, mr alfred was a old wise man knowen in the village by his long white beard, he working in the herbology he was an expert in mashrooms, his collegues said that he had a green hand that can revive plants at there last moments in worst conditions, and after he retired of his job some people said that he had a secret cave in the northen montains that contains a collection of thousends species of mashrooms some of them are a poison, some of them is good eat, others are used like medications, and others are so rare until no one knows what are they for, also mr alfred was for asma, the only window to heaven, to the fantasy world that she created by her imagination from his storys, she would do anything just to make him tell her a story, to be true, he had a wonderful storys about adventures in other worlds , those multicolored sky's worlds and full of mushroom villages and houses and weird kind creatures, asma really loved that old wise man until she didn't stop going to the park every saturday and dance as she used to dance.. until she met mahdi and rasha; they were admiring her with a very impressed eyes, when mahdi pushed a little bit the door, it made a creepy noise that stoped asma's dancing and made her turn her eyes to the noise source scared and wondering what the hell does this can be, mahdi and rasha wasn't so clear because of the fade so both of them also looked like a spectrum, ''who is this'' said asma while stepping back too slowly and her hand on her chest and scarenes filled her beautiful face, mahdi and rasha stepped slowly in her direction
when they got close enough mahdi and rasha smiled
-''hey'' said rasha
-''hello'' said mahdi
-''hi,excuse me, do i know you or something? i mean. oh god you scared me, i.. i didn't expect to find some one at this houre of the night.. in this place..'' said asma wondering and confusing, scared and surprised, without a official express on her face,
-''ow, no but we was just coming to visit this park and we suddenly saw you from behind we was watching you'r dancing by the way which it is so amazing! ow miss you are wet, here plz join us under this embrella, its big enough'' answered rasha and laughing shined on her face, asma was confused and didn't know what to do, but her joking calmed her down and made her feel more comfortable with them, so she made a step to get under it, and a moment of silence appeared, but interrepted by mahdi's voice
-''you know, you are lucky tonight we have a extra hot cup of coffe, its with cream if you like creams in your drinks..''
and rasha was giving it to her smiling, they were trying to make her scarnes and confusing fade away
-''but i must say you are so talented miss...?'' said mahdi
-''asma, you can call me asma'' said smiling
-''pleased to meet you asma'' said both of them
-''i'm mahdi and this is rasha''
-''i'm pleased to meet you too'' said asma, ''thanx for the coffee its really hot and tastes good..,and you both...? ''
-"well..'' said rasha while she was looking in mahdi's eyes and smiling ''beleive it or not we just met''
-"what? oh, to be honest this is the weirdest meeting i'v ever did'' said asma, to make every one smile in the end..
there were a beautiful lace in the park where our three mosqueteers went to and sited after the clouds finished there crying, on a wood chair kept safe of the rain under a big tree , and they talked and talked until allmost the sunrise, while everyone was holding his sorrow in his heart, but they confeced everything to eachothers and there storys with this cruel world, its weird when sometimes we feel safe with strangers more then with people we know..
but, among that special night.. while our three mosquetters were talking, asma noticed a falling star , but it wasn't a nrml one, it was shining and so close!
-''hey look! a falling star c'mon close you'r eyes and have a wish''!
they grabed there hands together and when they wished, 'by consedence' they wished exactly the same wishes in there hearts! they wished if they were in another world, somewhere better then this world..
but something wished powerfuly from three pure hearts at the same moment and in the same place can that fallen star refuse it?
i don't think so...
end of chapter..

Author: Mahdi Chahed

Inspiration is a lie..

"What do I know?" 

That reality is hard to grip. That things are harder than they seem. That my words are nails on a board."

"Don't be afraid of the words."

"How? It happens that I am someone with a fear of change. Not open minded, you say? No, I promise, I try. I do. But I slip."

"Tear ink. You know, the bravest words are not words but tears and blood. Be that miserable villager with the dead wife and the jail bars. One million open scars and a barely beating heart. You're not afraid. You're free. Explode. Explosions never care who's watching and who's listening. Fuck the voices behind your eyes and explode."

Mother, I'm fine. Father, I'm a millionaire, father!
And brother. Years ago someone told me to explode. Brother, be a designer. That's what you always wanted. They will care, they will talk then they will not. It's something like Miners and Diamonds. Bruises, years and little hope. But it happens. Chances cease to happen though.
And
"Stranger with the Big words. I hope all your dreams came true."

"There's something you've got to know."

"It's been a while. Hey. What is it?"

"Don't stop writing that very first draft."

"I have the money. I have the fame. I didn't want it badly but it's prettier than the picture of it. It's everything. I can stop. I'm not inspired."

"Inspiration? That's the next thing with the hidden fangs and lovely face. Don't trust a beast. Beautiful beautiful boy, he loves you, he demands you be his forever. The next day, he's gone. It's a beautiful trap no one misses. But see, you get past it if you dare punch him in the face. Inspiration, Filthy, unfaithful, kid. Stupid, stupid, filthy kid. Beautiful is a lie. You don't get to see what's underneath. So fists up. You're fighting. Remember though: Tears and blood. Doomed villager."

" 'You're crazy. I'm okay. I'm not the girl with the secret need. I'm fine with everything.'

'I'm fine.'

'I'm fine.'

'I'm fine.'

'Why don't you answer?'

'Hey?'

'Hi?'

'Is it something, I said?'

'I didn't mean it badly. I won't apologies.'

'Okay?'

I go back to the years old draft. Messy. Nonsense. Unreadable. Just shit.
I sit though. I sit and I cry, my ribs open.

Messages he'd been sending me. Maybe it was for a reason after all. What reasons? I share no credit with anyone. What reasons?

Reasons, so many reasons. I miss the sound of his words."

"Reality is hard to grip. Things are harder than they seem. But your words are hands on a heart."

"You're back. Were you mad at me? Why were you mad at me?"

"Mad? I wasn't."

"You disappeared."

"I was dead."

"What?"

"Dead. I'm that boy with the scar. I'm the boy who died the day your first draft got finished."

"Who?"

"I'm in the words. In your story."

"
The character I killed. The one boy the world was missing.

'But I killed you.' "

"When your words exist. I'm never be dead."

"What did you want from me?"

"To make your reality easy to grip."

 
Aurthor : Wiem Jalleli

Just missing...

I d'ont really know how to describe this, the feeling I have for you.. I don't know if I can say it's love because love is stronger than to end up like this,  what I can say is that I'm pretty sure it was true love, yes it used to be, I'm pretty conscious that no one in this world has loved you like i did,  no one had true love for u like  I did....I know it's useless to talk about it because unfortunately it isn't the case  now,  you more than time disappointed me..i thought we was inseparable And I thought that I was irreplacable le.. God blessed me by making me know it was just thoughts, that's why I don't have any regret for leaving you.. But although  I don't love u like before, what I'm actually feeling is a big missing for u, a missing for our days,  magical moments we had, the love felt,  the true love we both deeply felt in our hearts whenever we used to look at each other's in the sparkling eyes, that indescribable feeling I used to feel everytime you huged me and whispered 'I love you' with your heart beating like a jungle drum haha, the shyness I used to hide deep inside everytime u took my hand and look me in the eyes, the sweet msgs u always had to send and which always had to warm up my heart like nothing ever did, I don't know why but although I don't love you like before,  I'm writing this with tearing eyes and flaming heart,  I don't love you anymore you know, this can't be love,  because love my dear,  true love lasts forever and can't easily end up like this... It's not love are the words I keep repeating to my self to heal the scars left on my heart by ur ungrateful soul...

Author:Yosr Larbi