Prix Laurence - Bettembourg Prix Laurence 2020 - Luxembourg
 loading...

Prix Laurence 2020

Costa Sara - “Shh, don’t worry it’s not our fault, it’s hers.”





Once upon a time, there was a young girl called Amy. She was born in a peaceful country called Luxembourg, on a cold and rainy day. The sky was grey and the sun had vanished behind the clouds, making everything seem so lonely and dangerous.

Amy had a wild, happy and adventurous childhood. She went to High school where people didn’t really pay attention to her. It wasn’t their fault though, Amy looked so normal and quiet, they couldn’t know that they were missing the chance to get to know her pure heart and shameless thoughts. Her beautiful mind and twisted soul. Every time they looked at her, they thought that Amy was just a random regular girl.

In university, she met her future husband and eventually they got married. She had two beautiful children, Ben and Jerome and they lived happily ever after. But unfortunately that’s not the truth. That’s not what the universe had planned for our precious Amy. Because there was something about her that no one knew. But what I’m about to tell you, you can’t tell to the ones you love, nor to the ones you hate, and not even to your shadow or your own reflexion in the mirror…if you have one. It’s a secret. Our secret, her secret.

 

It all happened in the fall of September 2020. The trees had already lost all their leaves, and fifteen-year-old Amy was on her way to high school. Her least favorite place in the world. She was on the school bus, listening to music and enjoying the view outside. The bus was full of people as always, but strangely, that day, no one stepped out of the bus with her as they usually did when the bus reached the last stop. Amy didn’t think much of it and kept walking towards school. But as soon as she got closer to it, she felt like something wasn’t right. She took her headphones off and noticed that everything was extremely quiet and still. No cars honking. No wind blowing. There were no students smoking and hanging out in front of the school entrance. Amy was confused because she knew for a fact that her crush usually hung out there with his best friends, but they also weren’t there that day. She crossed the entrance doors and was even more surprised to see that there were no students or teachers in the halls and all the rooms were empty. Everything was curiously silent. She looked at her phone to check the time, worried that she might have arrived too soon. It was 7:40 am and school would start in twenty five minutes, she was on time…what was she missing? The silence was slowly driving her crazy. There were no people talking, no one was laughing or complaining about the difficult paper that they were about to write. No voices, no screams, only lonely seats and empty stairs. Suddenly, as Amy was heading towards her classroom, a young woman, dressed up with weird old fashioned black clothes, was walking in her direction. She could hear the sound of her high heels from miles away. She was ambling down the halls holding a book on her hands. She looked happy and satisfied. Amy had never seen her before, maybe she was a new teacher, but she did look suspicious to Amy for some reason. She walked right pass her and she didn’t seem to have noticed Amy’s presence. “Ehm, good morning Miss, what’s going on? Where is everybody?” Amy cautiously asked the woman, feeling extremely intimidated by her aura. The woman abruptly stopped walking as soon as she heard Amy’s voice. She slowly turned around and stared at Amy for about a minute before she suddenly smiled and said with an enthusiastic voice: “Ah you’re Amy Johnson right? Hurry up, go to your class room, you’re going to miss the show!” “Show? What show?” Amy asked confused. But the woman ignored her and left. Amy didn’t understand her strange behavior. And she had no idea why no one mentioned anything about a show the day before.

When she finally got to her classroom she knocked on the door, nervously. There was no music and apparently no one was speaking. Amy slowly opened the door and she could feel her heart rate increasing. Her hands were sweaty. But everything got worse when she saw what was going on inside. Amy was disgusted and shocked. She had never experienced such amount of unease before. She started to scream and shout for help for a few minutes when she quickly realized that she couldn’t hear her own voice. Amy stood very still. Everything was very quiet. Amy was trying to process the situation but nothing made sense. There were dozens of dead bodies lying on the floor, spread all over her classroom. Her best friends, her teammates, her crush and even her teachers. They were all dead. There was blood everywhere and she couldn’t stop staring at it. Suddenly, she noticed someone moving next to the chalkboard in front of the classroom. She saw, from the corner of her eye, that someone was sitting on the teacher’s desk. It was her. A girl who looked exactly like Amy, was sitting on the teacher’s desk with blood covered clothes and a big twisted smile on her face. Amy started crying when she looked at the cold and empty eyes of her lookalike. “W-What did you do?” Amy muttered to herself. Her lookalike stood up and whispered while she was stepping closer to her: “Shh, don’t worry it’s not our fault, it’s hers.” Amy hesitantly turned around and saw the same black dressed woman from before, waving at her with the same twisted smile as her lookalike. Amy felt dizzy. But as she was about to faint the alarm goes on all of a sudden, and Amy wakes up. She’s breathing heavily and her whole body is sweating like she just ran a marathon. That’s when she realized that it was just horrible nightmare. She was doomed to have dreams that were as real as reality which made it hard for her to tell the difference between the real-world threats and the threats that were only real in her imagination, when she was asleep.

 

That day, Amy stood up, took a shower and went to school. She was on the school bus listening to music and enjoying the ride. The bus was full of people as always, and this time other students got out of the bus with her when the bus arrived at the last stop, her crush was in the school entrance with his friends and Amy’s friends were happy to see her. Everyone was safe. Everyone was laughing and talking like they haven’t seen each other for years. Some of her friends were even complaining about the difficult paper that they would have to write tomorrow. Everything was back to normal. The soundless nightmare was over. In her classroom, there were no dead bodies, only empty chairs and desks and Amy’s English teacher, who was patiently waiting for his students. Once all the students came in and took their notebooks out, the teacher stood up and said with a fierce voice: “Good morning class, today we’ll have company but no worries, she’s not here to grade you or anything, she is just here to learn, and if everything goes well, she’ll become a great teacher someday.” Amy wasn’t listening, she was too busy looking for her notebook, afraid that she might’ve forgotten it at home when suddenly a surprisingly familiar sound made her freeze instantly. It was the sound of a woman walking with high heels. She rose her eyes and saw a woman entering her classroom, dressed-up with black and old fashioned clothes. Once she was next to the teacher, he stood up and they quickly shook hands. Then she elegantly turned around and was now facing the students. Amy knew who she was. And the woman knew who Amy was. She looked right into Amy’s eyes, an evil grin on her lips. The teacher sat down. It was very quiet. No one was moving. “Oh yes, Amy I forgot to mention it before but…” The teacher suddenly said with a huge smile on his face. “You’re still dreaming and this time, I don’t think you’re ever going to wake up again.”

 




ageschéckt den: 21:26 Fri, 6 March 2020 vum: Costa Sara

Zeréck

Prix Laurence 2020

Costa Sara - Cette nuit-là





Cette nuit-là, je me souviens d’avoir ouvert la fenêtre de ma chambre avant d’aller dormir. Je ne sais plus pourquoi. Il faisait un froid intense dehors et je suis sûre qu’il neigeait ce soir-là. Je crois que je l’avais ouverte parce que comme toujours, j’adorais regarder le paysage à travers ma fenêtre ouverte avant d’aller me coucher et j’aimais bien observer mon entourage. Tous les jours il y avait des gens qui promenaient leur chien. Le gentil facteur qui déposait le courrier dans la boîte aux lettres et des enfants qui jouaient avec leur ballon pendant l’été et construisaient des bonshommes de neige pendant l’hiver. Il y avait des maisons de toutes les couleurs construites en béton. Il y avait des arbres et des forêts dans tous les coins. J’étais contente de vivre dans un quartier si beau et si calme. On arrivait même à entendre le bruit de vent et le chant des oiseaux. Souvent on entendait de loin les éclats de rire des voisins ou on voyait les amoureux s’embrasser au milieu des trottoirs. Mais sinon, la plupart du temps, tout était paisible.

 

Cette nuit-là, je me suis allongée sur mon lit et j’ai fermé les yeux, je sentais le froid envahir ma chambre. J’avais oublié de fermer la fenêtre, mais j’étais beaucoup trop fatiguée pour me relever. Donc, tout doucement, je me suis endormie en attendent le lever du jour.

Le matin suivant, en ouvrant mes yeux, j’ai regardé autour de moi et je ne pouvais pas en croire mes yeux. Ma chambre qui hier avait seulement deux fenêtres, en avait maintenant au moins cinq en plus, ce qui éclairait beaucoup plus ma chambre. Tout était blanc et en verre, les murs, la porte, mon bureau et même mes plantes...tout. Ma chambre était étrangement propre et rangée. Les posters de mes chanteurs favoris avaient disparu et je ne sais pas pourquoi je ne l’avais pas remarqué avant, peut-être parce que c’était blanc comme le reste de ma chambre, mais devant moi se trouvait un robot géant avec ses yeux en plastique fermés assis sur mon fauteuil. Je me suis levée de mon lit en croyant que j’étais en train de rêver. Mais en cognant mon pied contre une sorte d’aspirateur minuscule, j’étais sûre d’être bien éveillée. Je me suis approchée de la seule fenêtre ouverte de ma chambre pour jeter un coup d’œil dehors en essayant de ne pas toucher le robot. J’étais stupéfiée. Il faisait beaucoup trop chaud pour le mois de novembre et presque toutes les couleurs avaient disparu: les maisons étaient blanches comme la neige du toit à la porte d’entrée. Il y avait mois d’arbres qu’avant et à la place des forêts étaient encore d’autres maisons blanches construites en verre. Il y avait toutes sortes d’animaux qui couraient désespérément dans les rues à la recherche de leur habitat qu’ils avaient perdus, mais sans succès. Des robots qui ressemblaient à celui qui se trouvait dans ma chambre, se promenaient sur les trottoirs comme si de rien était. J’aperçus un ou deux humains mais pas plus et il y avait des drones qui volaient dans tous les sens avec ce qui ressemblait être le courrier dans leurs petites mains. C’était horrible, tout semblait si vide et perdu. Des bruits insupportables résonnaient dans mes oreilles sans arrêt.

Je me suis éloignée de la fenêtre pour chercher mon calendrier qui se trouvait normalement sur mon bureau. Mais tous mes papiers avaient disparu. Sur mon bureau se trouvaient seulement quelques tablettes d’une marque que je ne connaissais pas et un engin qui ressemblait à un ordinateur avec un clavier en verre et un écran invisible. Tout à coup, le robot géant se trouvait devant moi et me regardait avec ses yeux lumineux et bien ouverts: « Bonjour, mademoiselle Irina, avez-vous bien dormi? » Je ne savais pas quoi répondre, donc j’ai fait un pas en arrière et je lui ai demandé: « Peux-tu me dire la date d’aujourd’hui, monsieur le robot? » Le robot m’a souri sourit et m’a répondu: « Bien sûr mademoiselle Irina, aujourd’hui nous sommes le premier novembre « 2100. » « 2100!? » répétais-je terrifiée. « Affirmatif mademoiselle Irina. » Le jour et le mois n’avaient pas changé mais l’année était totalement fausse. J’ai ouvert la porte de ma chambre de toute mes forces. Je n’arriverai plus à respirer. La panique m’a envahie aussi vite que la peur a pris possession de mon cœur. J’ai descendu les escaliers beaucoup trop vite pour remarquer les chambres vides et les décorations modernes.

Quand je suis arrivée à la cuisine, un gros singe, qui était assis sur une chaise avec un smartphone dans sa main, m’a effrayé. « Où- où sont mes parents? » Je lui ai-je demandé en bégayant. Le singe m’a souri mais ne m’a pas répondu. « Je suis ici ma chère Irina. » C’était la voix de ma mère qui venait du jardin. J’ai regardé par la fenêtre, soulagée de l’entendre. Mais malheureusement c’était seulement un autre robot avec la même coiffure de ma mère. Je ne pouvais plus rester dans cette maison. J’avais besoin d’air frais. Donc je me suis pressée pour ouvrir la porte d’entrée mais pour mon plus grand désespoir elle était verrouillée et seulement un code, que je ne connaissais pas pouvait l’ouvrir. Deux secondes après, le robot qui se trouvait dans ma chambre, était en train d’insérer le code pour m’ouvrir la porte...comme s’il pouvait lire mes pensées.

Lorsque je suis sorti, je me suis fait presque mordre par un lion et piquer par un flamant rose en essayant de chercher des humains. Mais ils semblaient se cacher dans leurs maisons avec des armes dans leurs mains, pétrifiés. Il faisait une chaleur insupportable, c’était difficile de respirer l’air pollué. Je me sentais si seule au milieu de toute cette catastrophe.

 

J’ai pris un des journaux qui se trouvaient sur le sol et je me suis assise sur le trottoir pour le lire. Et j’ai constaté que sur presque toutes les pages ils parlaient du réchauffement climatique, de la pauvreté, des espaces d’animaux disparus et même de la fin du monde. Il y avait des articles qui voulaient convaincre les gens à ne pas avoir d’enfants, d’autres parlaient d’une pilule qui était capable de nous faire vivre pour toujours et il y avait seulement de la publicité pour la vente de robots, qui sont censés nous rendre la vie plus facile. Ce monde c’était le pur enfer et moi j’en voulais sortir à tout prix et retourner à ma vie d’avant. J’ai mis le journal de côté et j’ai commencé à pleurer. J’ai aperçu ma maison, qui était aussi blanche et moderne que les autres et j’ai remarqué que la fenêtre de ma chambre était toujours ouverte...peut-être que, cette nuit-là, j’aurais dû la fermer.

 




ageschéckt den: 16:31 Sun, 12 April 2020 vum: Costa Sara

Zeréck

Prix Laurence 2020

Costa Sara - The angel Aya-Chapter 1





Ah, if only she knew how wonderful her life was going to be. If only she had the slightest idea of how many people would want to see her dead, if only she knew how much pain and destruction her decisions would bring. I wish I could show her all the hate and the tears of joy, all those people she was going to love for the rest of her life. But there’s no time for that, because right now, she was just a regular angel who went by the name Aya.
She wasn’t the most beautiful angel in heaven and neither was she one of the most important angels up there…Aya was like the third tree in a middle school theatre, completely useless. Nothing about her was extraordinary or different. But Aya couldn’t care less about it, because after all, she had everything an angel needed…she had friends she loved, a job and a family. But sometimes she would sit on a cloud and ask herself if it was wrong to want more. That’s when, one of those days, while she was sitting on the same cloud again, that Aya looked down at her feet and noticed the big blue ocean. Her eyes grew wide, she gasped. It wasn’t unusual for her to forget that there was another world right below her feet, waiting for her. “Oh planet Earth, what if I just paid you a visit, just say the word, and you know I’ll come.” Aya said, smiling. She really wished that was possible. She even hoped that one day things would be different. Because, deep down, she knew that she was eager to talk to the humans, just to hear their voices. She kept wondering what money must look like, because another angel told her that apparently, it was all they cared about. She got exited for a brief moment. Was it a sin to feel trapped in a place where you should be free. And so her smile faded slowly. She shook her head trying to make those thoughts go away. Only a few angels could go down to earth and only for specific reasons, and Aya obviously wasn’t one of those angels and neither did she have a reason to go down there, did she? But still…she asked herself if someone would even notice if she left.

Aya was sixteen years old when she finally learned how to use her wings. I know you might think that flying is what an angel should already know by the age of sixteen right? But I don’t blame her, being able to have full control over your wings isn’t that easy at all. And besides…no one seemed to find it important enough to care, so she had to learn all by herself. She first started practicing when she was eight years old. That was the age where she started noticing that all her friends and all the useful angels in heaven around her knew how to fly, except her. That’s why she thought it was obvious; if she knew how to fly she would also be useful and maybe even important someday. So when she was finally able to use her wings correctly, she felt ecstatic and overwhelmed, so the first thing she did was to tell all of her friends the good news. They all cheered and put their hands on her shoulder while she proudly showed them her wings. But that moment only lasted a few minutes for eight years of practicing all by herself, and that didn’t feel worth it anymore. They suddenly changed the subject and started talking about their amazing jobs and how they were so useful to the Father and so on, and those weren’t exactly Aya’s favorite topics. So she flew away that day, looking for some lonely cloud to sit on to contemplate Earth again…and that was the first time that Aya started feeling things that angels shouldn’t actually be able to feel, like fear, anger and frustration. Maybe she was just being silly, but you see, every angel was born for a special job to serve the Father. Some were warriors; soldiers and fighters. Others sang in the Father’s choir, others were teachers for the young angels or healers, messengers, writers or even dancers. Some angels were guardians (you call them parents) and others were architects…but at the end of the day, everyone had found their call. Except for Aya, of course, whose job was to clean the glasses. She was the one who made sure everyone in heaven was drinking from a clean glass. And that was all she did. Don’t get me wrong though…She liked her job sometimes. It was easy compared to other jobs and it was her way to serve the Father…but she knew that she could do so much more. Alas, she was the only one who seemed to be aware of that. When the young angels reach the age of ten, their guardians finally reveal to them what they are meant to do to serve the Father, and when Aya found out that she was meant to clean glasses for the rest of her life she started laughing, thinking her guardians were just messing with her, but well, they weren’t. Aya was disappointed but she had to stay positive, so no one would notice it. No one should find out that an angel wasn’t happy in the happiest place in the universe.
When she started working she finally felt useful, but not important at all. Now she’s eighteen and nothing has changed…except for those forbidden feelings she started to feel two years ago…they have been growing bigger every day.

The first story someone ever told Aya was the story of the angel Lucifer. How he was cast out of heaven because of his evilness, jealousy and betrayal. Aya didn’t think much of it, until one day when her best friend Micah asked her if she was okay. Usually angels didn’t ask such questions because they were always much more than just okay, and they didn’t have any reason not to be. So when Micah asked, Aya was afraid she would be cast out of heaven and turned into a demon. Even if she didn’t have any bad intentions she was just…sad, was that a betrayal? So she answered her question right away trying to act as natural as possible: “Yeah pff I’m super fine sooo happy like you have no idea but thanks for asking and how are you?” Micah looked at her confused “I was talking to the little rabbit over there, it looked exhausted, it must have been running and playing the whole day!” Aya didn’t know if she should be relieved or even more sad. She thought it would have been good to talk about how she felt with someone she trusted, like Micah…but she wouldn’t understand anyway and she didn’t want to put her in a weird position. “Oh okay yeah the rabbit of course, I was just joking.” Aya said, feeling stupid. Later that day, she was sitting on a cloud alone again, when she slowly started realizing that she did something no angel is capable of: she lied, for the very first time since she was born…It was an innocent little lie but when she told Micah that she was just “joking” or that she was “super fine and sooo happy” well, it was a lie. She started thinking that there was something wrong with her, that she was a sinner, an abomination, and there was no one around to ease her mind, no one to tell her that everything was going to be okay. So she flew to the place where she lived and grabbed a few things that she would absolutely need. Aya had a reason to leave now: she didn’t want to hurt other angels or disappoint the Father because of her sins. He forgives humans, but would he forgive one of his own angels? Either way, Aya knew she had to leave, so she could find herself. Because after all these years, she lost track of what life is really about, and at that point she had no idea who she was anymore.

When Aya was ready to leave, she looked at the giant golden gates right in front of her. Those were the gates that let you in and out of heaven, and there was only one thing she knew about those gates: once you cross them you’ll never find your way back unless Father wants you to. Aya hesitated for a second. She looked behind her hoping someone was desperately looking for her, begging her to stay, but as always…she was alone. So she took a deep breath, opened the heavy gates and crossed them knowing exactly where she wanted to go.

 




ageschéckt den: 18:10 Fri, 29 May 2020 vum: Costa Sara

Zeréck

Matmaachen

Maach elo hei mat
beim PRIX LAURENCE 2020


De Concours ass eriwwer!
 

Mäin Text eraschécken


Recherche

Neiegkeeten

Wéi kann ech matmaachen?

 

 

Flyer 2019

 

Download Dépliant 2020

 

LiteraTour 2020

 

Litertour 2020

 

De Liesfestival LiteraTour invitéiert normalerweis am Abrëll all d’Frënn vum Buch op Beetebuerg. Dat ass dëst Joer net méiglech. Dowéinst kënnt de LiteraTour bei Iech heem – am Livestream iwwert de YouTube– a Facebookaccount vun der Gemeng an den Internetsite literatour.lu!


Coronavirus
Dee ganze Festival ass ofgesot!
Gëtt, wa méiglech, an den Hierscht 2020 verluecht.


De Lies-Festival fir Iech all!
BeeteBuerg - BicherBuerg.


8. Editioun vum LiteraTour a
6. Editioun vum Prix Laurence

Liesenswäert!
Déi 3 Anthologien vum Prix Laurence 2015/16, 2017 an 2018.
Dir kritt se am BicherKueb zu Beetebuerg.
 



Vum Juli un am BicherKueb zu Beetebuerg an och an Ärer Librairie:
D'Anthologie vum Prix Laurence 2019.
D'Finalisten a Laureaten kréien se heemgeschéckt!


www.literatour.lu

*  *  *

Kleng Lecture, déi Iech vläicht weiderbréngt:


SALLY ROONEY

-  Gespräche mit Freunden
Roman, Luchterhand, 2019


LEIF RANDT

-  Allegro Pastell
Roman, KiWi, 2020


OCEAN VUONG

-  Auf Erden sind wir kurz grandios
Roman, Hanser, 2019

-  Nachthimmel mit Austrittswunden
Gedichte, engl./dtsch., Hanser, 2020


ERNESTO CARDENAL (1925 - 2020)

-  Transitreisender
Gedichte, Peter Hammer Verlag, 2008


TOMAS ESPEDAL

-  Bergeners
Matthes & Seitz Berlin, 2018


ANOUK MAHR
mat 15 Joer
3. Präis beim Prix Laurence 2016


-  Lautlos
Roman, éditions guy binsfeld, 2019


POL SCHMOETTEN

-  Holland träumen
Lyrik, éditions guy binsfeld, 2019


JOSIANE WEBER

-  Marie Adelheid
Eine politische Biografie (1912 - 1919)
éditions guy binsfeld, 2019


GRAND TOUR
Reisen durch die junge Lyrik Europas

-  Hrsgb. F. Italiano, J. Wagner
Anthologie, Hanser, 2019


POESIE

-  Hrsgb. N. Gomringer, M. Beyer
Anthologie, Voland & Quist, 2018

GRACE PALEY

-  A Grace Paley Reader
Stories, essays, poetry

Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2017

-  Manchmal kommen ...
Gedichte, Schöffling & Co, 2018

RON PADGETT

-  Die schönsten Streichhölzer der Welt
Englisch - Deutsch, mit den Gedichten
aus Jim Jarmuschs Film Paterson
Dieterich'sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 2017

STEFFEN POPP (Hrsgb.)

-  Spitzen
Gedichte. Fanbook. Hall of Fame.
edition suhrkamp, 2018

SARAH KIRSCH

-  Sämtliche Gedichte
DVA, 2013

-  Gesammelte Prosa
DVA, 2006

-  Sarah Kirsch u. Christa Wolf
Wir haben uns wirklich an allerhand gewöhnt
Der Briefwechsel, Suhrkamp, 2019

GUNTRAM VESPER

-  Tieflandsbucht
Die Gedichte, Schöffling, 2018

ANTHOLOGIE BEAT ATTITUDE

-  Femmes poètes de la Beat Generation
éditions Bruno Doucey, 2018

TAHA MUHAMMAD ALI

-  An den Ufern der Dunkelheit
Gedichte aus Palästina
Fischer Taschenbuch, 2013


SERHIJ ZHADAN

-  Warum ich nicht im Netz bin
Gedichte und Prosa aus dem Krieg
Suhrkamp, 2016


HAIKU ANTHOLOGIE

-  Das Buch der klassischen Haiku
Hrsgb. Jan Ulenbrook
Reclam, 2018

 


Auteuren 2020

Archiv

Lescht Texter vum Concours

Über Suizid spricht man nicht

Erageschéckt: 23:21 Tue, 30 June 2020


Du lächelst, wirkst glücklich, sagst, dir geht es

méi liesen...

Wendys Abenteuer Band 1 Tantenalarm!

Erageschéckt: 22:49 Tue, 30 June 2020


"Nein", schrie Wendy und wachte auf...

méi liesen...

The people that carry hope

Erageschéckt: 22:14 Tue, 30 June 2020


The people that carry hope are not...

méi liesen...