Day: May 24, 2025

The Circle

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Excerpt

“How about we meet at Starbucks by Westport Mall?”
She’s ready to agree, but suddenly hears herself asking, “Why don’t you come
over and we can have coffee here?”
Who said these words? Why were these words said? What is Emily’s purpose
this rainy morning in September? Perhaps the hope and knowledge that there is
always sun behind the clouds? But, of course, this is why she invites him to her
house. Talal’s mind runs to their sweet exchange in the restaurant, and he smiles
as he says, “That’s a better idea. I’ll be there, shortly.”
“Do you know where I live?” she asks, surprised.
“Of course, I do. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
She’s very excited now. Her mind won’t let her relax. Anticipation turns like a
sweet song in her mind, and on her lips she has a thirst for his, like the song of the
poplar to the sunlight sieved amid its leaves. She stands still, holding the receiver,
overtaken by excitement. She realizes she’s still wearing her robe. She definitely feels
aroused, her sexual hunger captivates her once more. Matthew is coming home
tonight. If he didn’t work so hard, so long, if he wasn’t so far away for so long. She
desperately tries to find a justification for all the thoughts of wild sex she’s dreaming
of with this young Iraqi man, because Emily Roberts knows very well what is going
to happen in her house very soon. It’s inevitable, it’s desired, it’s anticipated, it’s
something she has thought of so many times—the young Iraqi man with the
charming accent, with the lovely smile, and all this sadness in his dark eyes.
She runs upstairs, undresses, and steps into the shower. She puts on her
jogging pants and light sweatshirt. Now she is ready, but for what? What’s she
getting ready for? Perhaps, they’ll have coffee and that’ll be it.
He’s there within ten minutes and rings her doorbell, making her heart race
like it wants to leave her chest and fly to the clouds, where her mind has been for
the last few minutes. She opens the door and he stands before her with his
enchanting smile.
“Hi, Emily.”
“Hello, Talal, come in,” she says, softly, and as soon as he steps into her foyer,
their lips lock in a passionate kiss, Emily exploring his mouth and Talal
exploring the fine lines and contours of her body. Before they know what’s
happening, they are by the couch and they have no clothes on. She guides him to
the floor and gets on top of him, while Talal enjoys the view of her breasts
bouncing as though singing a heavenly song that only the nymphs of the forest
know; those nymphs who have come into her living room and guide Emily to the
zenith of her eroticism and to her fantastic orgasm. Her face shows such
satisfaction, and the softness of such a completion ends with her soft relaxing
moan, a moan that could rise the dead from their graves.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0978186524

Ken Kirkby, A Painter’s Quest for Canada

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Excerpt

The bush pilot told Ken that there was no such place as the Arctic – it
was an arbitrary dotted line drawn on a map, by people who had never
been there. The Arctic was a hundred thousand million places, he said,
with an enormous variety of climates and vast distances between small
communities. You might find a few people on the land, he said, but not
many. Most of them had been rounded up and put into camps built like
villages. The idea of the Eskimo as one homogenous group of people was
as big a myth as to say that all Europeans were one race.
Nevertheless, the government had decided that the Eskimos had to be
gathered together – regardless of tribe or dialect – and placed in communities,
which they would use as a base to go out and trap fur animals
for the Hudson’s Bay Company. Then they depended on the company for
their survival and were, in fact, essentially owned by it. Each Eskimo had
been given a number and a letter. Those west of Coppermine River were
assigned the letter W and a number. Those East of the area were given an
E and a number, and in some cases, those letters and numbers were tattooed
on their arms.
Ken was horrified. He repeated to Jessica, Patrick, and Long John what
the pilot had told him. John was furious, not at the government, but at
Ken and his wild dreams. “You’re on a wild goose chase! You’re mad!” he
shouted. “There’s nothing to go to – thousands of square miles of absolutely
nothing but ice, wind, and rocks – lots of frozen rocks and no
people. I tell you, there are no people there. The place is a bloody, frozen
desert. You’re made of flesh and blood – you’re not a god! What is it with
you English and your half-baked need to go to desolate places? As if life
isn’t difficult enough without going looking for trouble!”
“For someone who’s never been to the Arctic you seem to have a helluva
lot of knowledge about it,” Ken said. “How do you know there’s nothing
there?”
“I don’t need to go there,” John said. “I can read. There’s a place called
“The Barrens” and I imagine it’s called that for a good reason, don’t you
think?” John pulled out a map and pointed to the place. “Read it – it’s
right there. The Barrens – there’s nothing there. When he first looked at
the place, one of the explorers wrote in his diary, ‘This is the place that
God gave to Cain’. All I can see is that the place is going to kill you – not
much different from every other Englishman who’s gone up there. I can
see a small headline in some small newspaper somewhere, ‘The Arctic
wastes claim another Englishman.’”
“It didn’t kill Francisco,” Ken argued.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073573