Anthology of wounds - Arct

Anthology of Woundstain shadow that I had no has time to see every eveninglooking the top, perpendicular, over the fields and rivers.Unspoken voicesI had forgotten not only once that in Dranja, smoothoutside move inside corners and places with bumps. Idiscovered that changing place according to the day andthe weather come out shadows and other colors. Butthat one day I had to hear a voice on it I had neverthought.It was Autumn. The apple, grape and peach smellcame from the lighten hills. In the inside there was avoice was heard, a dumping shout! It was not Dranjabreath, but of a type that suddenly had lost over thehills, on the trees and could not found the road. It wasput as in prison.It was the same sound of many bees awake. It becameso strong near the pass that it moved as the soundof a bull or the shooting of a gun, or the seagulls singing,moving stronger through the rocks of the North.The sound was that strong.If Dranja would have had that shout when it wasalive, who knows how famous it and me have to beForeignersThe bad time came for the owner of the area. He, tosave from this horrible time, try to hear on the hallowcover the cry of sirens stoned on the mountain, whenthis last one was a sea. But there was nothing. He could256