Alexandermerow
New Member
Okay, the first three pages of my dystopic novel "Prey World" (it starts in the year 2027). The original version is in German and I have tried to translate it, as you can see. Can you undertand everything? Maybe you can give some feedback.
Frank Kohlhaas, who was called citizen 1-564398B-278843 in his everyday life, because this was his official administrative code, was already dreaming of the unpleasant smell in the hall of his flat, reminding him of rotten eggs. In his mind, shortly before 5.00 o'clock in the morning – soon the dream would be terminated by the alarm – Frank was on a walk through a sunny valley. But even at this beautiful place, the moldy smell was still pervasive, so that Frank wondered, how such a beautiful valley could smell so repulsive.
When the alarm-clock rang, it quickly became clear that the sunny valley was just fantasy, although the smell was real. The noise was shrill and Frank awoke swearing. Now he had to get up, put on his clothes, have a hasty breakfast and walk to the production complex 42-B.
„Damn!”, hissed the unshaven man as he moved his not excessively tall, but amazingly strong body from his cheaply produced bed.
„Hmmmhaaa!”, yawned Frank, shuffling through his still dark apartment to the next room, where a dirty kitchen was waiting for him. The citizen tore open the refrigerator door and chocked down a cheese sandwich, the meager left-overs from yesterday`s supper.
The water kettle was started with a loud whoosh and, after a few minustes, supplied hot water for a cup of instant coffee.
„Nnnhhaa!”, uttered the young man, a statement, that could be interpreted in many ways at this early hour, and could have referred to his life situation in general. At 5.27 o'clock, Frank closed the battered door behind himself and walked listlessly down the dark corridor on his way to descend the even darker stairway. The source of that foul stench, that had been torturing Frank`s nose for days, was somewhere here. Perhaps one of the other tenants, damn idiot, had left his garbage in the corridor.
„I don`t know...”, he muttered.
Each morning it was the same old story: „Rising, eating, walking, slogging away...“, as Kohlhaas always said.
In the past years, he had learned to hate his life. He was 25 years old now, living in a more than shabby flat on the outskirts of the former FRG capital, Berlin, working for modest wages as a temporary help in a steel plant. In former times, he had wanted to study, but this issue was over - for reasons that Frank never mentioned.
Actually, he was not dumb, but, according to his own words, he couldn`t hack it yet. However, the job at the steel plant was better than nothing, because it gave him the chance to earn some money and to survive – an advantage that was not enjoyed by millions of Germans in the year 2027.
As he now groped along again on this particular morning, step by step towards the plant, he passed demolished houses in the twilight and crowds of homeless people lying in masses in the dark corners of the streets.
„What would be, if I simply didn`t care about the consequences and went home again, got back into my bed and just slept until tomorrow?”, he thought sometimes.
„What would it be like if I just packed my bags and disappeared from this rotten city, this scruffy country?”, he asked himself occasionally.
But where was it any different? He should enjoy, what he had – he`d got a job and didn`t go hungry. That was at least something, thought Frank.
After the worker had gone through a very long and dark underpass without giving a Globe coin to the drunken beggar there, the production complex came into Frank`s vision. It was 5.53 in the morning and the workers for the early shift stood there waiting, smoking, jawing.
When the factory gates finally opened at 6 o'clock, about 200 workers poured through them like a viscous mash. Most of them were not in any rush to begin their work, but it had to be, there was no other way.
“No alternative!”, as Frank always said.
After ten hours, they went back home again. All were dirty and tired, but happy that the work was over for the day. Frank crept through the corridor on his floor, which was still dim even by day, and unlocked the door of his apartment.
There were no new messages on the Scanchip and that was good, because it were usually only calculations: electricity, water and such things. Frank had placed the television in his bedroom the day before, so if he couldn`t fall asleep, he could turn it on. The program did not interest him, but with the sound of anyone talking, he didn`t feel so alone in this dark block of flats.
Kohlhaas just knew his neighbours from brief encounters. Many of them only left their apartments to go to work and some of them had become serious boozers in recent years. From time to time someone would bawl from his balcony or accosted people, passing “his block” – but after a while, everyone was sleeping.
Citizen 1-564398B-278843 watched television till 22.37 o`clock: the news („War of the global armed forces against dangerous terrorists in Iran“), talk shows, easy entertainment on all fronts, warnings of the second dog flu epidemic and the necessity for the immediate compulsory inoculation. Then he fell asleep, although meanwhile the foul smell from outside seemed to have lodged itself in his pillow….
Frank Kohlhaas, who was called citizen 1-564398B-278843 in his everyday life, because this was his official administrative code, was already dreaming of the unpleasant smell in the hall of his flat, reminding him of rotten eggs. In his mind, shortly before 5.00 o'clock in the morning – soon the dream would be terminated by the alarm – Frank was on a walk through a sunny valley. But even at this beautiful place, the moldy smell was still pervasive, so that Frank wondered, how such a beautiful valley could smell so repulsive.
When the alarm-clock rang, it quickly became clear that the sunny valley was just fantasy, although the smell was real. The noise was shrill and Frank awoke swearing. Now he had to get up, put on his clothes, have a hasty breakfast and walk to the production complex 42-B.
„Damn!”, hissed the unshaven man as he moved his not excessively tall, but amazingly strong body from his cheaply produced bed.
„Hmmmhaaa!”, yawned Frank, shuffling through his still dark apartment to the next room, where a dirty kitchen was waiting for him. The citizen tore open the refrigerator door and chocked down a cheese sandwich, the meager left-overs from yesterday`s supper.
The water kettle was started with a loud whoosh and, after a few minustes, supplied hot water for a cup of instant coffee.
„Nnnhhaa!”, uttered the young man, a statement, that could be interpreted in many ways at this early hour, and could have referred to his life situation in general. At 5.27 o'clock, Frank closed the battered door behind himself and walked listlessly down the dark corridor on his way to descend the even darker stairway. The source of that foul stench, that had been torturing Frank`s nose for days, was somewhere here. Perhaps one of the other tenants, damn idiot, had left his garbage in the corridor.
„I don`t know...”, he muttered.
Each morning it was the same old story: „Rising, eating, walking, slogging away...“, as Kohlhaas always said.
In the past years, he had learned to hate his life. He was 25 years old now, living in a more than shabby flat on the outskirts of the former FRG capital, Berlin, working for modest wages as a temporary help in a steel plant. In former times, he had wanted to study, but this issue was over - for reasons that Frank never mentioned.
Actually, he was not dumb, but, according to his own words, he couldn`t hack it yet. However, the job at the steel plant was better than nothing, because it gave him the chance to earn some money and to survive – an advantage that was not enjoyed by millions of Germans in the year 2027.
As he now groped along again on this particular morning, step by step towards the plant, he passed demolished houses in the twilight and crowds of homeless people lying in masses in the dark corners of the streets.
„What would be, if I simply didn`t care about the consequences and went home again, got back into my bed and just slept until tomorrow?”, he thought sometimes.
„What would it be like if I just packed my bags and disappeared from this rotten city, this scruffy country?”, he asked himself occasionally.
But where was it any different? He should enjoy, what he had – he`d got a job and didn`t go hungry. That was at least something, thought Frank.
After the worker had gone through a very long and dark underpass without giving a Globe coin to the drunken beggar there, the production complex came into Frank`s vision. It was 5.53 in the morning and the workers for the early shift stood there waiting, smoking, jawing.
When the factory gates finally opened at 6 o'clock, about 200 workers poured through them like a viscous mash. Most of them were not in any rush to begin their work, but it had to be, there was no other way.
“No alternative!”, as Frank always said.
After ten hours, they went back home again. All were dirty and tired, but happy that the work was over for the day. Frank crept through the corridor on his floor, which was still dim even by day, and unlocked the door of his apartment.
There were no new messages on the Scanchip and that was good, because it were usually only calculations: electricity, water and such things. Frank had placed the television in his bedroom the day before, so if he couldn`t fall asleep, he could turn it on. The program did not interest him, but with the sound of anyone talking, he didn`t feel so alone in this dark block of flats.
Kohlhaas just knew his neighbours from brief encounters. Many of them only left their apartments to go to work and some of them had become serious boozers in recent years. From time to time someone would bawl from his balcony or accosted people, passing “his block” – but after a while, everyone was sleeping.
Citizen 1-564398B-278843 watched television till 22.37 o`clock: the news („War of the global armed forces against dangerous terrorists in Iran“), talk shows, easy entertainment on all fronts, warnings of the second dog flu epidemic and the necessity for the immediate compulsory inoculation. Then he fell asleep, although meanwhile the foul smell from outside seemed to have lodged itself in his pillow….
