Wanna see a novel grow? Have a look and tell me what you think...

[jacobitedreamer]

Thanks, Silverlining. You are very kind. I will post some more this weekend, I think it will find its end by Sunday...

[jacobitedreamer]

A little late, but here we go, putting an end to the story...

In the meantime, spring had returned. Trees, men and flowers woke to a new spirit of life. But to Manuel it seemed as if the dying glow of life in him grew more and more weak with every day that passed. And the weaker he became, the stronger grew the desire to return only one more time to the stage and look down on a friendly audience. So one evening he brought forth all the strength that was left to him and made his way up to the theatre hall. Every step of the beautiful stair seemed to be an invincible mountain, Manuel scarce could breathe and more than once he fell to the ground, half fainting. But then at last, supported by his little friend, he reached the last step. But his last dream should remain unfulfilled. So close to the goal of his desires Manuel died at the tenth hour of a bright spring evening. The play had just ended and now the shocked spectators who left the theatre found a crying little boy sitting by the corpse of a torn and ragged old man. The manager of the theatre was called to the scene. He asked the little boy to tell him the name of the deceased, whose furrowed, pale face were strangely known to him. Manuel's little companion gulped down his tears and looked up: "This is Master Puppet, he always said that his name was Manuel Peligros and that he was an actor. And, and now he is dead. I still have a letter of him in my pocket. He said I should give it to someone when he's dead. Do, do you want to see it?". Thus he handed the manager a dirty piece of paper on which Manuel Peligros had noted down his last will:

"Dear friend who is standing by my side now - I was Manuel Peligros, actor and beggar. I ask you humbly to bury me without mourning and to put on my grave instead of a stone a silver mirror. Forgive me, please, for I have not more to give you than my ragged coat and the marionettes I have in my bag".

With ashamed sympathy the manager looked at the cold, torn body of the actor he once had known and whose art he had loved and praised. He arranged a stately burial for him and had a beautiful mirror put on his grave. His epic death at the gate of the theatre had provided the press some spectacular headlines and thus had made his fame return. All those who once had loved him for the sake of his fame - the great figures of theatre and science, friends and admirers and even his wife who now did no longer speak of the day she left him - they all accompanied Manuel Peligros on his last way. His coat and puppets were sold for an unbelievable sum and a foundation was created to maintain and spread the fame and glory of the great Manuel Peligros.

Over the years, many people came across the churchyard and looked with amusement or curiosity at the bright mirror that graced the actor's grave. The mirror reflected the flowers, the rain and the nightingales that came to sing for Manuel, but many visitors did look in vain for their image in the depth of the polished crystal...


- END -

[Silverlining]

Bravo Jacobitedreamer!!!!

~S

[jacobitedreamer]

Thank you, Silverlining. I am happy you liked it!