Betrayal Betrayal

The sharp clear whistle of the TEE nervously pierced the immense darkness that, like a medieval cloak, covered
 the valley of the Neckar. Fast and efficient, the train Advanced toward the Hauptbahnhof, where it was received
 with the ceremonious formalities of a centuriesold ritual.&...

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Bibliographic Details
Main Author: Suzana Bornéo Funck
Format: Article
Language:English
Published: Universidade Federal de Santa Catarina 2008-04-01
Series:Ilha do Desterro
Subjects:
Online Access:http://www.periodicos.ufsc.br/index.php/desterro/article/view/9388
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author Suzana Bornéo Funck
author_facet Suzana Bornéo Funck
author_sort Suzana Bornéo Funck
collection DOAJ
description The sharp clear whistle of the TEE nervously pierced the immense darkness that, like a medieval cloak, covered
 the valley of the Neckar. Fast and efficient, the train Advanced toward the Hauptbahnhof, where it was received
 with the ceremonious formalities of a centuriesold ritual.
 Along the platform, on worn-out benches, a few sleepy-eyed
 travelers patiently waited in solemn silent respect.
 Out of the second-class car, among throngs of backpackers in faded jeans and tennis shoes, a woman, alone, almost Inconspicuously descended onto the platform. She was
 small, girlish-looking, but her trenchcoat betrayed a
 certain caution, a preparedness that clashed with the
 adventurous freedom of youth. She glanced around her and,
 unnoticed but for a polite nod from the train officer,
 proceeded toward the central lobby. Her short hair
 bounced to the rhythm of decided steps, made somewhat
 uneven by the weight of the shoulder strap that sustained
 her one piece of luggage.
 "Need some help, miss?" Ramona thought she might have
 heard. Nonsense, she soon added in her mind with a
 condescending smile. That was a voice from the past when,
 eager and excited, she attracted companionship by the
 sheer curiosity stamped on her face. Now, in her midthirties,
 at that age when naiveté and innocence become
 dangerously incongruous, she had learned to conceal the
 spontaneity and trust with which she had once embraced the
 world. Her face showed no excitement, no awe at the
 foreigness of the place, not even the fear that rose
 within her as she faced the Bahnhof door and acknowledged
 the emptiness of the station plaza outside. The sharp clear whistle of the TEE nervously pierced the immense darkness that, like a medieval cloak, covered
 the valley of the Neckar. Fast and efficient, the train Advanced toward the Hauptbahnhof, where it was received
 with the ceremonious formalities of a centuriesold ritual.
 Along the platform, on worn-out benches, a few sleepy-eyed
 travelers patiently waited in solemn silent respect.
 Out of the second-class car, among throngs of backpackers in faded jeans and tennis shoes, a woman, alone, almost Inconspicuously descended onto the platform. She was
 small, girlish-looking, but her trenchcoat betrayed a
 certain caution, a preparedness that clashed with the
 adventurous freedom of youth. She glanced around her and,
 unnoticed but for a polite nod from the train officer,
 proceeded toward the central lobby. Her short hair
 bounced to the rhythm of decided steps, made somewhat
 uneven by the weight of the shoulder strap that sustained
 her one piece of luggage.
 "Need some help, miss?" Ramona thought she might have
 heard. Nonsense, she soon added in her mind with a
 condescending smile. That was a voice from the past when,
 eager and excited, she attracted companionship by the
 sheer curiosity stamped on her face. Now, in her midthirties,
 at that age when naiveté and innocence become
 dangerously incongruous, she had learned to conceal the
 spontaneity and trust with which she had once embraced the
 world. Her face showed no excitement, no awe at the
 foreigness of the place, not even the fear that rose
 within her as she faced the Bahnhof door and acknowledged
 the emptiness of the station plaza outside.
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spelling doaj.art-f2c41dc3f7e142218baaa446253f68722022-12-21T18:32:07ZengUniversidade Federal de Santa CatarinaIlha do Desterro0101-48462175-80262008-04-0138007018Betrayal BetrayalSuzana Bornéo FunckThe sharp clear whistle of the TEE nervously pierced the immense darkness that, like a medieval cloak, covered
 the valley of the Neckar. Fast and efficient, the train Advanced toward the Hauptbahnhof, where it was received
 with the ceremonious formalities of a centuriesold ritual.
 Along the platform, on worn-out benches, a few sleepy-eyed
 travelers patiently waited in solemn silent respect.
 Out of the second-class car, among throngs of backpackers in faded jeans and tennis shoes, a woman, alone, almost Inconspicuously descended onto the platform. She was
 small, girlish-looking, but her trenchcoat betrayed a
 certain caution, a preparedness that clashed with the
 adventurous freedom of youth. She glanced around her and,
 unnoticed but for a polite nod from the train officer,
 proceeded toward the central lobby. Her short hair
 bounced to the rhythm of decided steps, made somewhat
 uneven by the weight of the shoulder strap that sustained
 her one piece of luggage.
 "Need some help, miss?" Ramona thought she might have
 heard. Nonsense, she soon added in her mind with a
 condescending smile. That was a voice from the past when,
 eager and excited, she attracted companionship by the
 sheer curiosity stamped on her face. Now, in her midthirties,
 at that age when naiveté and innocence become
 dangerously incongruous, she had learned to conceal the
 spontaneity and trust with which she had once embraced the
 world. Her face showed no excitement, no awe at the
 foreigness of the place, not even the fear that rose
 within her as she faced the Bahnhof door and acknowledged
 the emptiness of the station plaza outside. The sharp clear whistle of the TEE nervously pierced the immense darkness that, like a medieval cloak, covered
 the valley of the Neckar. Fast and efficient, the train Advanced toward the Hauptbahnhof, where it was received
 with the ceremonious formalities of a centuriesold ritual.
 Along the platform, on worn-out benches, a few sleepy-eyed
 travelers patiently waited in solemn silent respect.
 Out of the second-class car, among throngs of backpackers in faded jeans and tennis shoes, a woman, alone, almost Inconspicuously descended onto the platform. She was
 small, girlish-looking, but her trenchcoat betrayed a
 certain caution, a preparedness that clashed with the
 adventurous freedom of youth. She glanced around her and,
 unnoticed but for a polite nod from the train officer,
 proceeded toward the central lobby. Her short hair
 bounced to the rhythm of decided steps, made somewhat
 uneven by the weight of the shoulder strap that sustained
 her one piece of luggage.
 "Need some help, miss?" Ramona thought she might have
 heard. Nonsense, she soon added in her mind with a
 condescending smile. That was a voice from the past when,
 eager and excited, she attracted companionship by the
 sheer curiosity stamped on her face. Now, in her midthirties,
 at that age when naiveté and innocence become
 dangerously incongruous, she had learned to conceal the
 spontaneity and trust with which she had once embraced the
 world. Her face showed no excitement, no awe at the
 foreigness of the place, not even the fear that rose
 within her as she faced the Bahnhof door and acknowledged
 the emptiness of the station plaza outside.http://www.periodicos.ufsc.br/index.php/desterro/article/view/9388English LanguageEnglish
spellingShingle Suzana Bornéo Funck
Betrayal Betrayal
Ilha do Desterro
English Language
English
title Betrayal Betrayal
title_full Betrayal Betrayal
title_fullStr Betrayal Betrayal
title_full_unstemmed Betrayal Betrayal
title_short Betrayal Betrayal
title_sort betrayal betrayal
topic English Language
English
url http://www.periodicos.ufsc.br/index.php/desterro/article/view/9388
work_keys_str_mv AT suzanaborneofunck betrayalbetrayal