Hemingway can talk

"My dog ​​can talk"

Silence

For a moment the whole room held his breath, listening to the caressing silence.

I stood on the stage and Hemingway my dog stood formally next to me. A few seconds after my words, the initial shock vanished, and I was flooded by hail of questions. "Who do you think you are? How dare you? Are you on drugs? Someone call the cops a crazy escaped from the mantel house."

I let them panic for a while, before I raised my voice again.

"My dog ​​can talk," I used the most authoritative voice I could summon, "Listen to me and I will show you."

The silence returned.

"Well, let’s hear your speaking Snoop Dog," said one of the spectators, and received a few chuckles from the audience.

"Before that I want to see if there is anyone in the audience who believes me", I looked deeply in to the souls of the crowd, "who believes that my dog ​​can talk, raise your hand."

One person raised his hand up, all eyes turned to him at a spectacular timing. "I do not think your dog can talk, but I do not rule it," said the man whose hand was raised to heavens.

"It is not enough for me", I said, "I need someone who really and truly believes that my dog ​​can talk."

Nobody in the world raised his hand.

I leaned toward Hemingway and whispered normal words to his ready hear.  He ran quickly, cutting the crowd in half like in a biblical story, and stopped on the spot near a little girl in a flowered dress.

"You," I shouted to the frightened little girl, "Do you believe my dog ​​can talk?", I asked, although I knew the answer.

"Yes," she replied in a childish and sweet voice, "I believe you."

"Why, then, didn’t you raised your hand when I asked if anyone believe me?"

"Mom wouldn’t let me," the girl replied, shyness mixed with fear.

"Stop playing games with us," one man shouted from the crowd angrily, "ether your dog can talk or you will go to jail for this."

"Bend over", I commanded the girl, "Bend over at the dog, and listen to his words."

The floral girl bent toward Hemingway. I raised my hand, and just before her mother snatched her daughter away from the unbearable truth, I lowered her.

"I heard him," the girl cried in hypnotic happiness, "Mom, I heard him speak."

"Do not be ridiculous," said the fumed mother, "We're going", and took her to the nearest exit.

"But mom", she cried, using her children's song alike voice, "His name is Hemingway".

Just as the mother and daughter left the room, an object was thrown at me, which probably functioned as a sign of attack to the audience, because after that suddenly appeared a rain of nameless objects at my direction. I tried to stand firm against them, but the crowd was too many and the nameless objects, knocked me to the floor. Hemingway quickly ran to the stage and shouted at the crowd, "Stop Stop, you are killing him."

But the crowd did not hear the cries of my faithful dogs, they were busy filling their hearts disbelief and hatred. "The world is not ready for my words," he told me as a tear from his eye fell on my forehead and connected us, "The world is not ready for me."

"It's okay," I replied, stroking his neck, "We have one believer, and that is a world by itself."

Reviews

[ChrisM]

I just read the other review. Yes, there are some grammatical things but that's so easily fixed, I didn't count it. Same with "Bend over" - that should be "Lean down" - but you've still got the great writer's touch.

[ChrisM]

That's a very good story. I wish there were more - I'm sure you could build a world around it, and a very good one too. I want more - please write more, publish and I'll buy it. Your plot is excellent - I haven't seen anything like this since Vonnegut (I hope you like him, I do). And you have credibility in a plot that would challenge that. I'm fond of the man & Hemingway; I want more. Congratulations on great work.

[Mr. Koolios Shabatzby]

Hi Chris,
Thanks for the great reply, there are many more sotries i just need to translate the, hope i'll like them too :)

[Tammy A Evans]

I like the concept, but I was confused by much of your phrasing and word choices. The location within the room of the characters was unclear at times and lost in some of the dialogue-which seemed awkward. A reference like "Snoop Dog" time-stamps the story unnecessarily. Was this translated?

[Mr. Koolios Shabatzby]

yes it was

[Tammy A Evans]

I wish I could read it as written. Even so, the connection between Hemingway and the speaker is evident, and the ending sentence profound, and beautiful-in any language.