<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361</id><updated>2012-02-16T11:05:41.766-08:00</updated><category term='let&apos;s have fun'/><category term='another endless one huh?'/><category term='introduction'/><title type='text'>The Ancient Relic</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-2083743364938224684</id><published>2010-09-09T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T02:57:53.115-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='let&apos;s have fun'/><title type='text'>it's not a story. It's a game</title><content type='html'>hi there .... it's not a story .... I have just made the first flash game ... and I am very excited about it :&lt;br /&gt;here is the link:&lt;br /&gt; http://h1.ripway.com/karokan/anchor game(15th edition).swf &lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;and I also need your comments!please!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and here are some things you should know:&lt;br /&gt;arrow keys are for movements in different directions &lt;br /&gt;"d" is for leg attack&lt;br /&gt;"s" is for punch&lt;br /&gt;you have to kill 7 enemies to win!It may be hard 'cause my brother couldn't do it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-2083743364938224684?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2083743364938224684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/09/its-not-story-its-game.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/2083743364938224684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/2083743364938224684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/09/its-not-story-its-game.html' title='it&apos;s not a story. It&apos;s a game'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-2361018667855904412</id><published>2010-07-24T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T21:34:37.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is actually sour</title><content type='html'>In the name of Adonay , Allah and whatever he is called …&lt;br /&gt;Being in prison for a long time had killed him even before he was physically dead .you could never find him ashamed of what he had done anymore . He had just accepted his destiny to be in prison for the rest of his life and you could easily recognize that indifferent look in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;He was shorter than normal and had dark brown hair and deep black eyes which were scary somehow . I sat on the chair and waited for him … He came and sat in front of me and said : “Why are you still coming to visit me?”&lt;br /&gt;-Maybe I could find a way to take you out of here .&lt;br /&gt;-You know kid … You should be imprisoned because of the crime you are committing now …. You are giving a hope to a prisoner that has no way out .You are chasing a miracle. everybody is. even though they all know that it’s just a bullshit … even prisoners who are going to be hung are waiting for a miracle …&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t know what to say I was just staring in his eyes and waiting for him to say something. he said:&lt;br /&gt;there are moments that life pretends to be a dead end . I know  I would commit the crime no matter if I knew what would happen to me… I don’t blame myself kid …no one should. Being forgotten in the prison is the most severe pain in the history . &lt;br /&gt;I said : “The God hasn’t forgotten you” . But  he pretended that he hadn’t heard that and said:&lt;br /&gt;- You never know what you got until it’s gone … When I look out of the hatch and see the sky… I miss all the things that were on the earth … trees ,scent of flowers ,birds… when you are trapped in cold metal pieces of iron … you wish you could be in solitude for just one hour … you try to convince yourself that you can survive someday and you get pleasure of lying to yourself … I can’t expect you to understand this … &lt;br /&gt;-Don’t you believe in God anymore? &lt;br /&gt;- I don’t know … but if there is a God he doesn’t believe in me anymore… maybe he doesn’t believe in anyone … Why should he care about any of us when people don’t even know how to love?&lt;br /&gt;They said that he hadn’t even tried to save himself in the court … I don’t know the law but for him …. Being hung was more fair than being kept in prison . He had lost more than other prisoners … They said that he has had a very large library with a lot of books in it … Maybe it was the reason that even resigning the life was not difficult for him .&lt;br /&gt;I said : “I will get you out of here whatever it takes”&lt;br /&gt;He stared in my eyes and then held my hand. His eyes told me that he didn’t want to leave the place maybe because he had no reason to have a reason for the life. He stood and left that place before the time was out… Actually it was the last time that I saw that man . I moved to another state a week later and I just heard that the man  had died in a couple of years .&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the God doesn’t care about the misery that we are involved in . We all deceive ourselves that the life is not the way it is ! … And I believe that everyone’s life has a meaning that could or could not be defined in words. The pain is the only thing that makes people to get together … I don’t care even if we are forgotten in a prison called earth…I will never surrender... We should make the god to remember that we exist…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-2361018667855904412?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/2361018667855904412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-is-actually-sour.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/2361018667855904412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/2361018667855904412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-is-actually-sour.html' title='It is actually sour'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-9158066124046915063</id><published>2010-04-30T07:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T07:30:59.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>just read it</title><content type='html'>In the name of Allah&lt;br /&gt;The dream&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The light green leaves were spreading all around and the light of the sun was passing between them and made them seem enlightened . The wind was warm and nourished the pink flowers which were floating in the air .&lt;br /&gt;She was sitting at her desk, painting the nature she saw in her dreams .There was no green or beautiful flower or fabulous tree in the region she lived. But she had found out that she did not need any of them … She could create them herself .&lt;br /&gt;Her paintings were sold quickly so she did not have to do any other thing to continue her life. She also used to write what she could imagine in a way that impressed even herself. Her thoughts were clear and easy to imagine for herself and there was nothing unknown in her dreams.&lt;br /&gt;There was no kid starving because of the poverty and people were not killed because of their thoughts . The people were brave and innocent and no one got pleasure of hurting his own children . There were no bombs or planes or weapons to kill the women singing in their kitchen .  The devil did not exist in her dreams.&lt;br /&gt;She had started to hear the song of angels even when she was not thinking. She could hear the sound of the children laughing and running after each other .And she was also able to hear the flowers saying hi with their perfume inside it.&lt;br /&gt;Her mother could not convince her to go to the college . She always blamed her, because of the costs that was needed to keep her there but she knew that her daughter was the only one who paid for the home.&lt;br /&gt;She always did so and did not stop until her daughter cried and she left her room, because she could not stand the tears of her daughter. &lt;br /&gt;Her father always came home while he was drunk and his usual hobby was to strike her wife and slap her up to the death and then taking her to their bedroom. &lt;br /&gt;Eventually she started to see the creatures of her dreams when she was gazing somewhere in her room . she seldom got out of her room . Actually she did so when she had to .And she did not let it to take a long time staying out of her room .&lt;br /&gt;The life had become harder for her because she usually could not sense her mother’s shouts for her to come out and have a meal. And she sometimes could not see the real things around her and it has become a big problem for her when she fell down the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;She had found a lot of friends and a white horse which could fly up to the sky in her dreams. And she had learned to speak to the gnats and dwarfs which no one in that worlds knew how to speak with them. She gradually found a magical stick which she could make everything to fly by handing it.&lt;br /&gt;Her friends called her “ the fly girl” because she always used to fly in the sky and see the everything which was in her world.&lt;br /&gt;Someday her mother opened the door of her room because her daughter had not replied to her shouts. She found her gazing at the floor of her room and not moving even a bit. She shouted again but she did not hear any reply. She got nearer when suddenly her daughter said :”stay away .you could have killed these beautiful butterflies!” she could not see any butterflies there so she called the emergency because she thought that her daughter was saying unreal things because of the fever.&lt;br /&gt;They took her out ,and a week later she was in an institute for the insane people and stayed there for a week .Actually they found her dead , when a strong perfume of flowers was surrounding the room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-9158066124046915063?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/9158066124046915063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/04/just-read-it.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/9158066124046915063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/9158066124046915063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/04/just-read-it.html' title='just read it'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-4298988834550297319</id><published>2010-03-15T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T02:18:33.762-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='another endless one huh?'/><title type='text'>you may make a joke out of it!</title><content type='html'>In his name&lt;br /&gt;It was just about him … whole the people he knew were infected  .The only thing he had as a target in his life, was to approach … get closer and see with his own eyes, that all of this ,was not just an illusion.&lt;br /&gt;His boring life, the artificial way he laughed the entertainments he didn’t enjoy … he couldn’t concentrate on his thoughts … he couldn’t convince himself to not sleeping for a night and finding out who he was.&lt;br /&gt;It seemed that everything was in order … His schedule was a kind of symbol to the people who wanted to “success” in their lives . He didn’t lose even a second … each precious second... but he couldn’t stop  being successful in his life. His wealth was growing more than before…. He had become a more important guy in his career and everyone admired the way he thought and acted. But there is always something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;He could feel it from inside that it was not the thing he wanted … Oh please I’m not going to repeat the most frequent story you have heard… it was something just about him. &lt;br /&gt;He had aimed to gain money …so he did. He wanted to be a man with great thoughts … So he read lots of books … He had achieved everything that it would be imagined as a success in his life .But one night  he got up with a sound of a crash outside his house . The two drivers were shouting and struggling with each other, but after they understood that both of them had an insurance for these cases, they just stopped fighting . But they made a miracle that they didn’t know and I’m going to explain it to you.&lt;br /&gt;The man didn’t sleep that night but he also didn’t think about himself .he just gazed at a picture that he had in his room .The picture was not that much entertaining indeed. But that night everything was weird if we don’t say magical.&lt;br /&gt;It was a ridiculous matter that he had never gazed at that picture before. He knew where it came from and how much he had paid for that .but he hadn’t looked at it more than 10 seconds … the reason was obvious for him … it was because he hadn’t scheduled it in his daily life. You may  think :”ok , what’s the importance of not gazing at a picture ...” but as I said … it was just about him. But as a matter of fact, he asked himself:”ok, what’s the importance of not gazing at a picture”. and he blamed himself because of his silly thought and he slept …the way others do.&lt;br /&gt;He woke up in the morning … he looked at his schedule … it was fantastic … he had 3 hours for having fun with his family .He drank his bitter coffee as always and walked to his office . Oh I forgot to say that he gave some cash to a beggar and wished luck for him.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway… Where was I ? … Aha… He did his job better than always and asked his secretary to bring some coffee for him … He drank the coffee and went out of his office .but something he saw just stopped him in his place .&lt;br /&gt; The beggar  he had helped , had crashed a car while trying to cross the street to buy some food with the money that the man had given to him . The beggar was alive . Actually I understood this from the people who were talking around there  an hour after the accident…. But that’s not important… is it?&lt;br /&gt; The man had made sure that the guy got into an ambulance. He still had lots of time to be with his family. He drank another coffee and drove home. &lt;br /&gt; He went to a park with his family the park was really beautiful. But the man couldn’t stop thinking about the beggar .Something was hurting him from deep inside … something he didn’t know…suddenly , he thought about the useless picture I mentioned above …  I don’t know which part of the picture was that much precious to think about and if you ask me it was nothing important at all. But the man I’m talking about couldn’t stop thinking about the picture. He looked around apprehensively the trees and the grass under him were green and beautiful … he felt that he was in his childhood dreams and nightmares. The insect that was running through the grass made him imagine like a hero with his sword in hands and shouting in front of his army and encouraging them to fight . Please don’t ask me the relationship between the beggar, the picture , his thoughts and everything he saw in that park … It’s strange to me too. The only thing I know is that the man went to Russia  a month later … and as far as I know he has joined the Shaoline temples … and again … I don’t know what is the relationship between the Russia and China …. But that’s the way it is … it’s just about him.&lt;br /&gt; I am going to ask him later about what he did and the reason of them . You know it’s the thing angels always do… But if you ask me … that picture was not worth thinking …&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-4298988834550297319?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4298988834550297319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/03/you-may-make-joke-out-of-it.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/4298988834550297319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/4298988834550297319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/03/you-may-make-joke-out-of-it.html' title='you may make a joke out of it!'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-1203077707810741093</id><published>2010-02-23T07:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T07:37:47.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it can be so much sour!!!</title><content type='html'>In the name of God who is just one!&lt;br /&gt;the taste of life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Taking steps was so delightful that it would be imagined that he was walking on the air . He had a new idea … something that had changed his life … something very special that could not be explained clearly.&lt;br /&gt; He had decided to change his life … everything seemed obvious in a strange way … there was not even a doubt of what he felt inside himself and he could feel the energy running through his veins … but having no doubt  was making him feel in a strange way … He remembered the previous times that he had made the decision and failing, even at the first week, was all he had achieved .&lt;br /&gt; Everything around him looked dirty and guilty … there was nothing to persuade him and nothing to prevent him from what he wanted to do … It seemed that he was just a point in a picture called world and it didn’t matter what would happen to him as long as the order of the world would be the same … So he wasn’t so much different from a mosquito.&lt;br /&gt; His room  got ordinary again … his spirit seemed dead just like the people who were around him he realized that convincing himself to have a better life and bringing pleasure to his life was just a joke .&lt;br /&gt; He was leaning to the arm of his chair in a way that most of his weight was on it. So the arm of the chair just broke and he fell on the floor of his room . He had experienced these situations before … he felt that whole the world were laughing at him … the life seemed just like a shameless joker.&lt;br /&gt; He realized that he had lost his faith to the justice of the God … He was nothing important to the God … He had lost his faith to everything.&lt;br /&gt; He felt that being honest with himself was much more better than being a coward… He knew that he didn’t believe the God but he had never dared to accept it himself.&lt;br /&gt; He was judging himself and the world which was around him … He couldn’t stand the guys who were just like him … He couldn’t stand the hypocrisy that he was imprisoned in . Everything was lying about it’s purpose …. There was no aim for anything…&lt;br /&gt; The only thing that mattered that time was the existence of the God … It was a kind of constitutional matter that no one was exactly talking about the matter! People who didn’t believe in God never proved anything about the existence of the God the only thing that they said was that they couldn’t believe in a ruthless God . And the people who believed in God were talking about the order which is exerted on the world and the cause of creation and things like that … There was no one who knew anything about the matter, people were just chattering  .&lt;br /&gt; He had lost his faith and he had no means to bring it back . He realized that he needed and wanted to believe in the God  but he didn’t want to deceive himself once more … He promised that if he could be sure about the God he would save the whole world alone! &lt;br /&gt; But everything was the same … the life seemed too much complicated for him. Even ,if the God existed; He hadn’t left anything but puzzles for him … puzzles which seemed impossible to solve at least for him .He felt so weak … he couldn’t sense the God.&lt;br /&gt; He gazed at the TV which was showing a bird flying high in the sky . He imagined himself as an eagle … He flied everywhere in his dreams. He could see everywhere when he was in the sky and the earth seemed just as simple as a ball. He was flying higher and higher and earth and everything that was on it seemed more little. He flied faster and faster so he understood the pleasure of the flying in the sky. He could see people who were ready to die for each other … He could see the people who believed in God and nothing was able to stop them …. He could see everything that was meaningful.&lt;br /&gt; He stopped dreaming and looked things which were around him … He came out of his house and looked at the trees and birds which were singing delightfully . the dirty bench that was beside his house …The house of the neighbor that he hated and people walking in the street … and all of these things didn’t make sense … There was just one choice …. HE HAD TO FLY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-1203077707810741093?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1203077707810741093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/02/it-can-be-so-much-sour.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/1203077707810741093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/1203077707810741093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/02/it-can-be-so-much-sour.html' title='it can be so much sour!!!'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-4491472001981822095</id><published>2010-01-24T13:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T13:46:22.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not a sour one!</title><content type='html'>In The Name Of Allah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Worthy&lt;br /&gt;She was sitting beside a smoky , tiny fire , moving little pieces of wood on it with the stick she had in her hand.&lt;br /&gt;The life was too much complicated for her and she had no idea how to deal with it . The life actually was sometimes impossible to stand .&lt;br /&gt;The day before yesterday was her birthday party and one of her best friends didn’t come to her party and she knew the reason …. It was because she didn’t had a suitable dress to wear . and a week ago the teacher that she loved fell on the ground in front of his students and they laughed at him and made him be ashamed of himself.&lt;br /&gt;It was too pessimistic to consider the whole world as a garbage but the happiness in the world wasn’t great enough to make her feel optimistic about the world and everything that was in it including people.&lt;br /&gt;These were all floating in her head and she remembered her childhood and her innocence .It always got boring thinking about  these things … She was gazing at the fire and thinking.&lt;br /&gt;She understood that there was no miracle in her life everything was ordinary and easy to predict … She had a program for whole her year so she always knew what she was supposed to do to be a so-called successful girl … &lt;br /&gt;Someday  when she was walking in the street she saw a man singing and playing  with his guitar while the weather was chilly . She just passed him and increased her speed . She didn’t want to help that man … She walked a hundred meters … But suddenly she stopped … If she wanted to move that way the whole day would be the same as always… She felt the chill in her body ... She was standing there without a movement …    Fighting against the world was more meaningful than being nothing in your life (she told this gazing at the ground ). &lt;br /&gt;She got back and got close to the man … the man didn’t even notice her … He was just singing and playing for himself … She sat beside the old man and listened to that music … the old man noticed her after about 10 minutes … &lt;br /&gt;The girl asked him : Why do you play when no one passes around here? you can gain no money.&lt;br /&gt;The man looked at her and said : Have you ever been close to die and feel it with whole your soul? &lt;br /&gt; -No I haven’t.&lt;br /&gt; -ten years ago I read a book about a man who was going to be killed by a guillotine because of some murders ... They told him that he would die in 1 hour . He didn’t believe in God but his destiny was obvious … hell or nullity . &lt;br /&gt;He was scared. There was only 1 hour remaining … He told himself that he could think half an hour of his time about himself and 20 minutes to say goodbye to his family and 10 minutes to just gaze at the sky – because it was a long time that he hadn’t seen it !&lt;br /&gt;Everything  was running fast in his mind he probably reviewed whole his life in that minutes … when his head was put below the guillotine he cried and told himself there is still 10 seconds remaining ! &lt;br /&gt;Can you believe it ? He wanted to live whole the 10 seconds. We are not so much different to him … we’re going to die anyway… sooner or later…&lt;br /&gt;I thought that I should live my life before it is too late. so I left my country and went around the world to learn and enjoy my life and get close to the God . &lt;br /&gt;The man sang the song again … The girl could feel happiness in his eyes … something that was hard to be found those days .&lt;br /&gt;The girl stood up and went … The man shouted: where are you going ? I’ve plenty of things to tell you …&lt;br /&gt;The girl shouted: I have to save my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-4491472001981822095?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/4491472001981822095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-not-sour-one.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/4491472001981822095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/4491472001981822095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/its-not-sour-one.html' title='It&apos;s not a sour one!'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-6073099172342246104</id><published>2009-11-13T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T09:22:39.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The 4th sour story</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	mso-para-margin-top:0in; 	mso-para-margin-right:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0in; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapelayout ext="edit"&gt;   &lt;o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"&gt;  &lt;/o:shapelayout&gt;&lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center; line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;In the name of him&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt;"&gt;         The snow was pouring on the ground and reflection of them on the ground made it impossible to look down. The children were playing into the snow making huge balls of snow and throwing them to each other .&lt;br /&gt;         It was a long time that he knew his felling about her .Her meaningful gaze at the sky,the way she moved her hands , the way she walked in the street and everything in her -body and soul- were all impossible for him to forget. It seemed that it was a blessing from above that he was able to find her and see her face.&lt;br /&gt;         The day, he had decided to talk to her and tell her how much he loved her, had come but he felt too weak to tell her the truth. something was wrong and he didn't know what .A feeling that you find out you know nothing about what is inside your chest called heart.&lt;br /&gt;         He remembered her eyes and the innocence inside them . There was a complicated magic inside her smile that could drive him crazy every time he looked at her face . He knew that the girl loved her too . he understood her eye contact and the way she looked at him .&lt;br /&gt;         He wasn't brave enough to do what he wanted to. He was afraid from being defeated in the game he had made himself . But the fear of losing her was something more horrible or impossible to stand.&lt;br /&gt;          He had followed the girl from the office -they were both in- to her house so he exactly knew where he could find her when the darkness of night was coming. he waited exactly in front of her house with a fear inside.&lt;br /&gt;         She was getting close.He sensed that there was a spell on him which didn't let him do anything . He couldn't do anything and his brain was unable to help him further. It was getting too cold and his fingers were almost frozen . The time was unbelievably passing and She was easily seen getting closer and closer.&lt;br /&gt;         She got very close and he decided to go back home and do this later he went a few steps then he got back again.She was almost beside the door of her house .Breathing was becoming impossible for him and it was getting hot more and more . He said I can never do this and turned back again to walkaway. But he heard her voice saying :- Is there a problem sir?&lt;br /&gt;         He turned and said: - could I ..... talk to you for a while.&lt;br /&gt;         - : ...yes I guess ...&lt;br /&gt;         - I am ... one of your ... you know I work in your office... I mean the place you work ...I....&lt;br /&gt;         -Oh ... now I remember ... I've seen you in the office a thousand times but I have never had time to talk to you.&lt;br /&gt;         -yeah you know ... as I said ... I've seen you there and I thought .... I .. could use your help there..&lt;br /&gt;         -I will be glad to ....&lt;br /&gt;         -And there was something I wanted to tell you ... I ... am .... really happy ... that you work there ... I mean we never had such a good accountant ....in all these years and ....&lt;br /&gt;         -Thanks . but would you please come in ...? I want to introduce you to my husband ... He is home in a minute .&lt;br /&gt;         -I... your ... ... your husband?&lt;br /&gt;         -Yeah he will be back in a minute.&lt;br /&gt;         -no ... thanks... sorry because of ... I need to go ... I..&lt;br /&gt;         -O.K as you wish, see you in the office.&lt;br /&gt;         He said bye and walked away as far as he could ... He felt that whole the world were laughing to him ... everything seemed dark and meaningless. He didn't know what to do ... He was almost running ...&lt;br /&gt;         He got home when the it had become completely dark.He looked at the ceiling crying and whispering to the God:&lt;br /&gt;God ... why didn't you tell me ... I....&lt;br /&gt;         He didn't go to office for a week. He thought about himself all these time. He felt idiot and sorry because of his love .&lt;br /&gt;         He understood that there was a link between his love and the nature around him . he could understand the feeling of being alone in the rain ... He could fell the smell of the soil and he could hear the whispers of the wind.&lt;br /&gt;         He understood that he could never understand these feeling without the love .  .. He opened his notebook and stated to write what he felt.... he understood that the life had given him a key to the secrets inside it.&lt;br /&gt;         His new life had begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-6073099172342246104?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6073099172342246104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/11/4th-sour-story.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/6073099172342246104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/6073099172342246104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/11/4th-sour-story.html' title='The 4th sour story'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-6291700941903130522</id><published>2009-10-15T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T09:11:49.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The third sour story</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%;font-size:18.0pt;"&gt;In the name of Allah&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He was just looking out of the window …. Everything was wet. The colorful leaves fallen from the trees were moving around the yard …. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He was sitting on a bench thinking about himself .there was nothing in the world important to him. There was no answer to his questions , actually&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;there was… but none of them could convince him. There was no sign to follow. everything seemed to be encrypted and he could see himself unable to even think about things that were around him and in his mind .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;All the things would end in a word that was “why”. He couldn’t make sense of creatures ,the God , the voices and everything that could make others hopeful to life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Of course he didn’t want to commit suicide because he couldn’t make sense of death either and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;didn’t know what would happen if he wanted to do so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He didn’t know what the belief was ,the heart (that all the people were talking about) the devotions for the God … the worshipers worshiping the God for himself and the cause of being in this world , the cause of being rewarded or suffered the cause of being a player of a game that it’s end was known. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He touched the chilly window with his face. He sensed that he had never seen a miracle in people’s lives. everything was ordinary and ludicrous somehow … the aims of the people ,the legends ,and their emotions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;It seemed that whole the world was a question and there was no one able enough to answer even one of them because even if someone could answer one of them, he could have been wrong because of being human and of course limited . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He wasn’t even sure of existence . everything could be an illusion . He was thinking about these ,having a cup of tea in his hand and putting his forehead on the chilly window . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;How could people believe I a God that they couldn’t &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;imagine . How could someone love something that is unknown to everyone .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;His life seemed to be too short and there was nothing he could do to tell himself that others are not just clowns playing in a circus called life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;No one was able to reply him , indeed everyone ran away from him and people like him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The only thing that could define the life was love , a thing that he had never felt. Something just like other parts of world; unknown and impossible to understand .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He felt for a moment that he couldn’t stand his house because it was too hot inside and he wanted to have some chill helping him think properly, so he escaped from the house .the street was ordinary with enough people to talk to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He didn’t want to listen to repeated answers but there was nothing to lose. He got close to a child playing in the park close to the street. He said to him :-Do you like a candy ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;-no I don’t. my mother has forbidden to talk to strangers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;-there is no need to talk just accept it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;-but you won’t tell my mom will you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He smiled and said : -of course not!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The child took the candy rapidly and said thanks &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;and ran to other children .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He had made a child happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He understood that nothing would happen if he knew all his answers. the God could be still unknown .his existence could be ignored by himself .He could be a clown playing in a circus but there was nothing he could do about these so why he had to care about all of these things that couldn’t be changed ? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language: FA"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;He went to a restaurant and ordered his favorite food and listened to the birds singing outside. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 55px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Sometimes things as small as a candy are enough. There are a lot of causes to live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;&lt;span style=" line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language:FA"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height:115%;mso-bidi-language: FA"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-6291700941903130522?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/6291700941903130522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/10/third-sour-story.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/6291700941903130522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/6291700941903130522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/10/third-sour-story.html' title='The third sour story'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-5025348338866421100</id><published>2009-08-23T01:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T01:40:12.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The second sour story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Coward&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It was really cold . The man was shivering because of the chill . There was no taxi to get home. Suddenly a car started to hoot . The driver shouted out of the window:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-Where are you going partner ?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-Can you get me home? I'll pay you well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-Of course why not? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;He entered the car . The warmth was easily sensible and the man could smell the strong perfume into the car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The driver said : -What do you do ... I mean as a job ...?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-I own a factory (the man answered without thinking )&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-So it's so easy for you to help people in poverty isn't it?(the driver said with scorn)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The man answered angrily :-I do help them .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There was something strange in the driver's voice he said again : -why do you help them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;- The man answered cautiously -Because of God&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-Do you think the God needs it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-Of course not I'm just doing it to ....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The driver interrupted incontinently:-Because of heaven?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The man couldn't make sense of what was happening actually, he was just gazing at the driver he couldn't see his face . the diver stopped the car unexpectedly and gazed at the man's eyes and said:-You are a coward. You don't even believe in God You just want to get rid of your tragic destiny . Now get off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He did what the driver said . Was it true? He didn't even know it himself . Did he really believe in God or just feared to be burnt in hell .It was chilling him to the bone . He walked the rest of way home thinking about his beliefs ,God and himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;He slept that night and saw a dream .The driver was wearing white and looking above his head he said without looking : -you deserved to have the second chance . He pointed to the sky and said :-Don't loose your time ... He is waiting for you. And he disappeared coincidently . The man woke up , looked out of the window and smiled at the sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-5025348338866421100?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/5025348338866421100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/second-sour-story.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/5025348338866421100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/5025348338866421100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/second-sour-story.html' title='The second sour story'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-1058673723049633015</id><published>2009-08-10T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T23:51:22.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>first sour story</title><content type='html'>Far from the God……&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; It was Sunday afternoon the wind was winging around the island….the butterflies were floating in the air. The leafs were hanging around and the man having the axe in his hand was getting into the jungle …. The weather wasn’t cold enough to disturb him …. So the man was wearing thin clothes ….. the sky was blue and the night was coming ……..&lt;br /&gt; It was a long time ago that the  man had decided to get rid of his house and get to the city … but you know … financial problems didn’t let him get to the city …. And he was sad because of that…. The situation got more and more confusing and the man’s desire to get to the city was disturbing him. &lt;br /&gt; One night when he was asleep he saw a strange dream ….. when he got up he couldn’t imagine much of it …. Just he could remember that he had seen a kid calling for help …. “It was just a nightmare” the man said…. But he couldn’t forget the dream and he didn’t know why himself …. There was something strange in it ….&lt;br /&gt; Finally  the man gained the money to get out of the island he could feel a lot of pleasure in himself ….. knowing that he could have better chances to live conveniently ...&lt;br /&gt; He rode to the port singing “I’m getting out of hell “ … but on the way he saw people talking about the storm on the other end of island …..He got to the port and saw that the port was destroyed by the storm …..They said that the port is going to take one month to be repaired………… he couldn’t control his fury ….he looked up Shouting at the sky “ … God … are you there …? … What have I done that I deserve this?…. to pain for whole my life …. Why do you do it to me ……I’m sick of this … I’m getting insane …. -He shouted the last sentence louder- “Where are you?”&lt;br /&gt; He went back home that day but he was always thinking about the fate he was involved ….he couldn’t sleep that night… so he just laid down and looked at the window… after one hour or two he heard a voice coming from a long distance … he couldn’t recognize it …. He stood up …. Picked up his axe and rant towards the voice …. He got nearer and nearer …. He understood that it was a kid calling for help … he went to the jungle …… and suddenly he found the boy surrounded by a group of wolves…. He shouted as loud as he could and ran faster … one of them jumped on his chest but he cut off it’s head and shouted again the wolves steped back  the man ran again and all of them ran among the trees ….. the little boy was crying … he took his hand smiled at him and said …. Don’t worry you’re saved ….. and said to himself …..”the God has plans for all of us “ and laughed…..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-1058673723049633015?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/1058673723049633015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-sour-story.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/1058673723049633015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/1058673723049633015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-sour-story.html' title='first sour story'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6029147543644348361.post-881189133474530937</id><published>2009-08-10T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T23:44:27.868-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='introduction'/><title type='text'>hi ... thanks because of coming</title><content type='html'>you know these days no one cares about others' poems or handwritings .... I just wanted to express my ideas ..... just like Sadegh Hedayat says in Boff Koor :"I'm writing not because I want you to believe it .... I want to believe it myself!" and in the name of Allah ....let's begin&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6029147543644348361-881189133474530937?l=mysourstories.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/feeds/881189133474530937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/hi-thanks-because-of-coming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/881189133474530937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6029147543644348361/posts/default/881189133474530937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysourstories.blogspot.com/2009/08/hi-thanks-because-of-coming.html' title='hi ... thanks because of coming'/><author><name>The illusionist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02912007218061179904</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
