Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
The guard who was watching the revolving doors did not stand a chance, the last man got out of the van and walked past him. The guard saw on this stifling hot day a man in a long robe with a hood over his head entering the arrival hall. The avenger with the sword of the Almighty, looked to the left, there a 30 meters away stood ...
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Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
It was market day in Medina, the city in Saudi Arabia where the Prophet lay buried in the famous mosque of the prophet. 'Not just any market day,' thought Abbat Misjier, 'this is the last day of Ramadan. It had been a tough month, the fasting month, the tremendous heat had fused your tongue to your palate and only after the cann...
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Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
The three men entered the shop of the 'tailor', situated in an old seedy area. At a table a man and his apprentice were sewing manually low hanging crotches into pants. 'The tailor' expects you,' the traveling imam had said, 'the time has come for your heroic deeds.' The men had nodded seriously because what do you answer to suc...
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Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
Not only did Sheba read in her hotel room about Israel, especially over Jerusalem, but also during the transfer and the waiting time in Cyprus, where she would meet analysts from Darpa and the CIA, to then fly to the meeting with the advisors of the Knesset. 'Gosh,' she thought, 'I thought it was just a place with its own old hi...
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Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
Sheba had traveled proforma through the area of ​​Sirte and had sent report to the home office, her fellow observers had hardly left the hotel and their contribution would consist of a ride in an armored vehicle through the outer regions. 'So the West is reassured,' she realized, while her iron framed glasses were again pres...
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Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
Boismont shook the water from his hair and immediately the trumpet sounded, he knew what was going to follow the tune of the free West and God bless America. He looked around and the tropical bird came flying in and sat down on his branch. "We are the West, the free West .. '' ... God bless America," it sounded over the water. '...
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Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
Black feather, was sitting still, he seemed carved out of rock and he was breathing heavily, the air was laden with expectation. He opened his mouth and a long plaintive sigh drifted over the tribe. "Arrrgh," it sounded followed by a pause and he took another deep breath and bowed his head down now. "Arghhhh," came the loud groa...
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Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
In the southwestern part of North America in an area characterized by drought and desertification, Black feather performed his dance. His house was not stacked, but made of the same dried clay known as adobe, as the houses higher up on the mountain ridges. His home was at the bottom of the ladders that led to the higher dwelling...
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Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie
It was the Thursday night of Professor Boismont, he had left a difficult day behind him. This was the night to disconnect, the night he shared with his daughter, he was walking towards the 'Volcano' and looked forward to his pizza Laif. He had not taken issue with the rain gently drizzeling him wet. It felt refreshing. It was gr...
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