hwcstory-02
In this contest, you need to write a fictional story on the following topic:
What happens when a man learns a new language in his dream but wakes up in the morning and forgets his mother tongue.
Having shown my creative abilities, I got this story, I hope you like it.
In a small town, there lived a young man named Alex. He was passionate about languages and dreamed of learning them as much as possible. One day, he decided to try an unusual way — to learn a new language in a dream. He set the recorder to record and fell asleep with headphones in his ears, listening to Spanish lessons.
At night, he had vivid dreams in which he talked to Spanish-speaking people, walked through the streets of Barcelona, and even participated in local celebrations. He felt confident, understood every word, and easily expressed his thoughts. It was a real immersion in language, and he woke up with the feeling that he had made a huge step forward.
But the next morning, when Alex opened his eyes, he was overcome with panic. He tried to remember how to say "good morning" in Russian, but instead of the usual words, only Spanish phrases were spinning in his head. His heart was pounding with fear when he realized that he couldn't remember a single word in his native language. All the memories of childhood, of family and friends, seemed distant and hazy.
His anxiety grew by the hour. He wandered around the house, trying to talk to himself. All the words that came to mind were related exclusively to Spanish. He looked at the Russian lesson book and noticed that the texts looked like coded messages, complete chaos, misunderstanding.
Alex tried to connect to the Internet to find a translator, but to his horror, even they did not give the desired result. The word refused to obey; the world around it transformed into a country where every designation became a cipher.
As the day turned into evening, he lost not only his words, but also his self-confidence. The neighbors began to worry about his strange behavior. They saw him shaking his head, and then talking to his own shadow, trying to remember what once seemed easy and familiar.
By nightfall, exhausted and depressed, Alex went back to sleep, hoping for the best. He immersed himself in Spanish again, but this time his dreams were not as vivid as before. He couldn't remember where he had been or what he had achieved, as if a whiteboard had erased all his achievements.
When he woke up in the morning, he felt the sharp pain of loss again. Realizing that something terrible was happening to him, he began to look for solutions. The park benches where he was sitting were buzzing with happiness; a flock of sparrows were chirping about their business. At one point, he stopped and began to observe: it doesn't matter what language the birds communicate in, what matters is that they are free and confident.
He went outside, looked at the people around him, and finally found the strength to greet passersby in Spanish. And although he couldn't remember his native language yet, a spark of hope lit up inside him. He realized that language is not just words, it is a way of communication and understanding.
Alex started writing in Spanish, making notes about his fears and feelings. Gradually, he began to find a common language with the world around him, using the new language as a bridge instead of a wall. And in this difficult journey, he found his true self, expanding his horizons and realizing that regardless of the language you spoke, sincerity and the desire to establish contact are important.
Some time later, Alex wanted to return to his native language, but now it was not as easy as before. He had two linguistic identities, and he learned to live between them, realizing that it doesn't matter how many languages you know; the main thing is the ability to be yourself.
All the photos were taken by me in the park.
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