{"id":113,"date":"2020-06-15T08:24:54","date_gmt":"2020-06-15T08:24:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/?p=113"},"modified":"2020-06-15T08:24:54","modified_gmt":"2020-06-15T08:24:54","slug":"w-e-shattered-impressions","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/w-e-shattered-impressions\/","title":{"rendered":"W.E. – Shattered Impressions"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\t\t\t\t\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

COMING ASHORE<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

In the first part of the last century, a number of Englishmen arrived at the \nshores of Dunnes Bay. They held their breath before climbing off board, but \nnevertheless, they obviously wanted something, perhaps even something which they \ndare not mention, and it soon became obvious that that which they wanted was \nmore than just a few pearls and some silver to bring home as a souvenir. They \nhad not been travelling thus far in order to be belittled or shamed in any way, \nbut in order to prove to themselves and to their kinfolk that they had plenty of \ngall and guts to take on any rival, whether perceived or real. But upon their \narrival they found, to their great relief, no one to greet them but a few \nnatives that proved hospitable enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DREAM<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Glazier-like ice mountains and rocks shattered all over the place. I am lost. \nMy best friend and my girlfriend are searching for me, repeatedly shouting my \nname with voices that echo and sound urgent but remote. I can hear them, but I \ncannot speak. I can even see them, but they cannot see me, because they are in \nthe dream, not me, so I can never be found. It saddens me to think about \nthat.

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"\/<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

JOURNEY<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The Kinshasa sunlight that creeps in, seemingly, through every window is \ninferior to nothing on Earth; so destructive, yet beautiful are its powers that \nmore than just a few travelers have confused it with a somewhat similar, yet \nessentially different phenomenon called \u201cSouthern Eclipse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We are trailing along, just trying to keep track of the transmission of \nhistory; in itself a daunting task which certainly is made no easier by the \nmonotonous sound of palm leaves, birds singing in complex, yet ultimately \npredictable patterns, and the unmistakable Chimpanzee. This is no place of \nchange.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our car is in an awful condition and is in desperate need of repair, yet \nsomehow neither we nor our driver seem to object to the day-long, sometimes \nweek-long delays caused by the chronic lack of spare parts that is too common in \nthese balmy environs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SEARCHING<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

In less tumultuous times, the angels might have swept down the street forming \na crisp chorus of voices ringing like bells into the night. Before it would be \ndawn, they might have instilled into our minds a confidence which, although we \nwould be mystified and stupefied, would teach us how to finally tell ourselves: \nThou shall fear no more, thou shall harbor remorse no longer!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unfortunately, in our part of the world \u2013 and a similar tendency applies to \nthose other parts of the world with which I have become familiar \u2013 angels do not \noften tend to make their presence known in the hardest of times. Noise and \nunrest of any kind seems, rather, to discourage them, as if they mistook our \ndespair for preoccupation with our own problems, as if in the bewilderment of \nour eyes and our downward lips they would read a signal saying: Don\u2019t come near, \nleave us alone!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Therein lies the source of our loneliness. We, the people, do not often smile \nor reach out to our fellow man in times of need and trouble. Rather, we isolate \nourselves and become less approachable than in happier hours, when our need for \ncontact, whether divine or human in kind, would appear to be so much less \nsignificant.<\/p>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

COMING ASHORE In the first part of the last century, a number of Englishmen arrived at the shores of Dunnes Bay. They held their breath before climbing off board, but nevertheless, they obviously wanted something, perhaps even something which they dare not mention, and it soon became obvious that that which they wanted was more […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-container-style":"default","site-container-layout":"default","site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-transparent-header":"default","disable-article-header":"default","disable-site-header":"default","disable-site-footer":"default","disable-content-area-spacing":"default","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-113","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-quarterly-magazine"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=113"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=113"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=113"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/novelty-fiction.com\/gazette\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=113"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}