| The Crew of a Tiger 1 tank consists of five people, though this one, according to its commander, Albert Vogel, might have been better left in the stockyard. Thats no surprise, the cynical Vogel could not think less of his crew. Theres the Jittery, Stuttering Tristan Schweitzer as his driver, the Short, Egotistical Joachim Acker as the Gunner, the Monotone, slightly Paranoid Wilhelm Deiter as the Radioman and the Dim-witted, Child-like Tobias Spannagel as his loader. |
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Frater, Ave Atque Vale -pt. 8- Later I would look back at this a supposed acceptance of each other. A strange and subtle turning point in out dealings with each other, even though I still was wary of him. After that, whenever I passed him walking back from the park I would say hello and he would nod his head in obligatory greeting. Neither of us made any move, we had both reached our stalemate. I would not go forward; he would not let down his defenses. So there we remained stuck for the next week or so, mired down in the bogs of our own suspicions of each other. This persisted and hung over us wheneveFrater, Ave Atque Vale -pt. 8-
by ~Snapcat456
Frater, Ave Atque Vale -pt. 7-Frater, Ave Atque Vale -pt. 7-
Days passed from when he yelled at me. Form then on, I took every precaution that I could to avoid any contact with the Muller within my daily schedule. Every Tuesday and Thursday I would take the long route around to Math class just so that I could avoid him and his dog walking through campus in the morning. I didn't like it. It felt as though I was wanted for something, some crime that I did not commit or play any part in, but yet he some how managed to make me feel that way. He was the one who yelled at me, but now I was the one that felt like I had done something wrong. &n
by ~Snapcat456
Frater, Ave Atque Vale -pt. 6- It was Early November when I came by their house once again. I was overjoyed that I had not seen Mr. Muller come by for his walk that morning and I assumed that he was having one of those "days" that Rose had described to me and I found this to be a great opportunity. Biting back that ever present fear again, I strolled over to the Muller's place, quickly putting out the cigarette that I was smoking before I turned the corner to the cul-de-sac. Kicking up a few leaves as I walked I listened to the wind dance its way though the trees, shaking off the last leaves that clung for dear life before the winterFrater, Ave Atque Vale -pt. 6-
by ~Snapcat456
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| My name is Euro. You may call me Sir. I prefer black and white to color. There is no such thing as the past We are living in History. Words, Caravaggio. They have a power I write. Words themselves are an artform as powerful and as pliable as the paint-brush, as prominent and and as moving as the ocean. It is the purpose of a writer to try and portray the mind so as everyone can understand. Words can be like X-rays if you use them properly they'll go through anything. You read and you're peirced. I attempt to draw, I would like to call myself an artist. I am merely trying to set a course through the sea to find that tide that will carry me to my own island, my own corner of the world; out of the doldrums, safe from the waves. Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time. Email: EuroisYente@Yahoo.com AIM: AdiPlz Website: Snap Cat Artistry |
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