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zondag, mei 15

Tag: Electra

Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 5
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Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 5

The Video Tape - part 5 of 6 By Michiel van Laarhoven Oh, the pain! The pain in my head. My ribs. Christ, everything hurt! I opened my eyes and all I could see were strange shapes as if I saw everything through the curved side of a looking glass. Perhaps my eyes were reversed. There was lots of light. Artificial light, I was sure. And I was lying in a bed. One shape by the other I pieced together where I was, but it was that old, grating voice that connected my theory to fact.  (meer…)
Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 4
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Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 4

The Video Tape - part 4 of 6 By Michiel van Laarhoven I managed to make my way back to the staircase and I had reached the top floor. My loneliness was accompanied by a feeling of satisfaction; a weight that had lifted off me, leaving me alone in comfort. This was the way it was supposed to be, even though I felt so unburdened that it felt like parts of me were missing now. (meer…)
Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 3
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Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 3

The Video Tape - part 3 of 6 By Michiel van Laarhoven Not for years had we been in the plaza where the Apollo Theatre was. The paved square was a sea of polished stone now, as it used to be populated by a dozen pine trees. ‘They make it seem like Christmas every day of the year,’ Electra had said when they were little. It was getting very late, and people fled the area back to their homes – hands in their pockets, chins to the ground. (meer…)
Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 2
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Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 2

The Video Tape - part 2 of 6 By Michiel van Laarhoven The night was deep, cold and quiet, as if we had gone miles under the surface of the ocean. The old town contained about as much life as a waterless desert, and yet it felt somehow better; it was clearer. Electra and I slunk through the forgotten streets and alleys that made up our home once. (meer…)
Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 1
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Short story by Michiel van Laarhoven: The Video Tape – part 1

The Video Tape - part 1 of 6 By Michiel van Laarhoven I lay calmly and comfortably on a white cushion. Like a globe, the mechanism beneath me gently spins around. I am thrust into an inferno and swallowed by darkness in a curled-up, child-like position. The last light escapes me and so I am drowned. Here, I am born. I die, until I get born again. At least every now and then. Until I am worn. (meer…)