Tag: short-story

The Circle

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

Emily cannot see where his eyes are looking, but she knows men well; they are all
the same, most of the time. Yet, now a younger man with sad eyes has made her
heart melt; this younger man has managed to make her feel like a young woman
again. Talal is the man for Emily; Talal is her man and she’s willing to go anywhere
he wants to go because she’s so much in love with him.
Talal turns to her side and opens his eyes. Emily is on her back and the gardener
walks to the other side of the grounds. Talal leans over and puts his hand on her. She
squirms for a bit as his touch awakens her flesh to the warmth of his palm.
She turns her head to him, smiles, and says, “You are awake; for a while you
looked like you were asleep.”
“What a beautiful, warm day; pity we have to go and leave it behind,” Talal says.
“I know. Back home, right now it’s getting colder.”
“Well, we can always hope to come back here some time soon; what would
you think of that, my love?”
Silence falls between them for a few moments. Emily feels the warmth of the
sun on her back and sees the brightness all around; the birds are very busy
singing in the beautifully kept yard. These are all things she would like to have
around all the time, and her answer comes at the right time.
“I would love to come back here sometime soon, honey.”
“What if we stayed here for a longer time next time, sweet Emily?”
“I would love to come here with you, my love, and stay as long as you like; a
week, a month, two months, however long.”
He smiles back at her; he leans closer and kisses her lips softy.
“Do you mean you could go wherever, as long as we were together?” he
whispers to her.
“Yes, I could, my sweet Talal,” she says, kissing him.
The rest of the day goes by in peace and serenity and sunshine. They have a
light lunch with Ibrahim and Mara and later in the afternoon come back and
sit to enjoy the warmth of the sun a little longer before getting ready for the
party.
Ibrahim and Mara take their customary siesta for an hour. Then they get
involved with the last preparations for the party; they want everything to be
perfect for when the guests start arriving.
Rassan is the busiest person of all. He has to coordinate the shopping, the extra
cooks hired for the night, the servers, the coat-check people, and everybody else
who will help make the party flow smoothly. He enjoys doing all this, and since he
has been with Ibrahim and Mara for a long time, knows exactly what they want
and what is expected of him. He never disappoints them.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562817

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

Straits and Turns

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

…the moment if they didn’t interfere with his driving them to their destination.
On the other hand, could he ask them to stop? Why, could
they answer, and what could he say to such a question?
Strange beast, the human mind, as it went from one thing to
another, like a crazy monkey who jumped from one branch of a tree
to another, just like Costa’s which ran to his good trip back at the
Four Seasons to which he was eager to reach on time, so his customer
wouldn’t get impatient and take a different cab to the airport. He
looked at his watch: his time was just fine; finally, he arrived at the
Cypress Bowl, and he realized that his customers in the back were half
dressed and half not, such was their erotic oestrus during the trip…
upon realizing that they had arrived at their place they quickly fixed
their clothes, the man paid the driver and taking his half-dressed
sweetheart by the waist they walked to the front door of their place.
The driver said goodbye to them and started his return to the
city of Vancouver and to the Hotel where he arrived earlier than the
time we had agreed with the smoker. However, Costa saw his customer
waiting in the lobby. Costa walked over, grabbed his bag, put it in the
trunk, opened the back door for him, and started the trip to the airport.
Around the sixteenth and Granville, they started the usual little
talk, “Where are you from? How long have you been here? Etc. Costa
informed his customer that he came from Hellas and had lived here for
six years. The customer mentioned that he was a Turk, from Ankara,
on his way to Los Angeles for business. Oh, God, what just happened?
The earth started swirling around like a wind vane, like a top on a flat
surface. And all this buzzing noise was like a swarm of bees in Costa’s
head, as if desperately looking for honey. Endless pounding against
his two temples turned that buzzing noise into a thundering hatred.
In which school have they taught him to hate this man so much? In
which church have they turned him into such a fanatic? How many
eons of anger and hatred has he lived, and why is he in such a dreadful
condition? How was it possible that all his ancestors had resurrected
and stood before him demanding revenge? Why all this hatred today,
and why have all his ancestral parents, brothers, and sisters awakened…

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763866

Fury of the Wind

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

He threw his head back and laughed. But it wasn’t a mirthful
sound. “In Nimkus? That’ll be the day.”
He gulped his coffee, pushed his chair back roughly and went
out. Sarah stared after him, unaware that two tears were sliding
down her cheeks. O
The road to the neighbours proved to be little more than a cow
trail across the adjoining farms. Flicka’s hooves scattered yellow
petals of black-eyed Susans as she trotted over the dry pasture land.
Due to Ben’s warning, Sarah became especially cautious when they
reached the path along the ravine. But she need not have worried,
because Flicka navigated it with a sure-footed gait, and ignored the
brush covered bank that fell away to the gully a hundred feet below.
Only a thin ribbon of murky water was visible at its base, but Ben
said that after a heavy rain it became a gushing river.
Another quarter mile along the path, after rounding a poplar
bluff, Flicka came to a halt at a barbed wire fence that obviously
divided the Fielding and McNeill properties. Sarah dismounted to
open the prairie gate. The farm site was now visible, and she could
see that they were approaching it from the back. A country road ran
close by the front of the two-storied white frame house. The house
itself stood in the shade of a grove of maple trees.
A windmill stood sentinel between the house and the outbuildings,
and Sarah felt a pang of envy when she realized that their
neighbours had electric lighting. This farm seemed a sharp contrast
to the ones she had seen on the road from Nimkus. Every outbuilding,
from the smallest shed to the imposing hip-roofed barn,
sported a dark red coat of paint.
They came to another gate and, as Sarah prepared to dismount,
she saw a man wave to her from where he had been bending over
the engine of a red tractor.
“Hold it,” he called, “I’ll get the gate for you.”
As he walked towards her, closely followed by a brown and white
mongrel dog, Sarah could see that this was not Dave McNeill. Although
tall, he appeared shorter than Dave, and his curly hair was
darker although definitely auburn. But when he grinned up at her
where she sat astride Flicka, she could see the features were …

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073530

The Unquiet Land

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

…his eyes bulged with anger, and his lips curled back like a snarling dog’s. His right hand swung from his side and slapped Padraig so hard across the face it seemed to smash every bone. Then back the big hand swung. The knuckles smacked Padraig across the cheek and nose. The nose spurted blood. Padraig felt the hot stream on his lip and chin.
“You sneaking, cowardly lecherer!” Michael roared. “You guttersnipe priest! You bastard son of Satan! I’ll kill you.”
He burled his fist and crashed it down on Padraig’s face and head and shoulders. Then he pushed the priest away from him with a snarl. Padraig stumbled backwards and fell against the chancel steps. Michael rushed forward, roaring like a bull. With both hands he picked up the priest’s limp body and hurled it the full length of the chancel. Like an empty sack Padraig hit the floor and slid forward. His back struck an upright of the altar-rail, and his body swung round and stopped with a crack of his head against the altar.
Michael’s chest was heaving up and down, pumping his anger. He threw himself against the pulpit; it keeled over and crashed like a felled tree. In a frenzy he could no longer control he turned and ran to the opposite wall, tore down the picture of Christ walking on the water and smashed it against the front pew. Then he raced out of the church.
Michael knew that Caitlin had taken the shore path homewards. He had seen her wend her way through the graveyard and head westwards along the cliff-top. She had pulled her shawl tight around her against the coldness of the bright, clear dawn. He followed her, walking quickly, almost running. He reached the end of the line of low cliffs. The path slithered down a steep hill to meet the shore. Pausing on the lip of the hill, he saw Caitlin ahead of him, hurrying homewards like a cat. He left the path and ran straight down the grass-covered hillside. A few sheep bolted in front of him, then swung away to one side or the other. A couple of gulls rose from a rock in the grass, wheeled in a wide arc through the air and settled again. Michael was blind to them. He saw only the lonely figure in the white shawl to which he was drawing closer. He rejoined the path near a patch of brambles. Caitlin was barely a hundred yards away. Michael chased after her. The chumpf of breaking waves and the roll-rock chinner of the backwash sounded in his pounding ears. Then Caitlin’s head jerked round. She stopped and turned to face him. Fear and guilt froze in her eyes.
“Michael,” she cried, but more in a plea than a greeting.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562888

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763203

Water in the Wilderness

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

Tyne sat on a chair across from her. Several seconds passed in silence. Tyne did not intend to make it easy for the woman.
Finally Ruby said, “I know you’re mad at Bill and me because the kids ran away. I know you didn’t want us to have them in the first place. But we … I did my best for them.”
“Did you?”
Ruby looked up sharply. The fire that Tyne remembered from their encounter in Emblem Hospital had returned to her eyes. “Yeah, I did, no matter what they … what Rachael says.”
Tyne sat forward, her eyes riveted on Ruby’s face. “And was doing your best making Rachael work like a woman in the house? Letting your daughter bully her – even going so far as to mutilate the doll? Telling her that she and Bobby would be sent to an orphanage?” She took a deep breath. “Was that doing your best for her?”
Ruby sat straight, ready to defend herself. “I didn’t know a lot of that stuff until later when Lark told me. And anyway, I can’t see it’s any of your business because they’re not your kids. You’re not even related.”
“No,” Tyne said quietly, “we’re not. But your sister left them in our care, and I promised to look after them for her. And both Morley and I have grown to love them which is what you don’t appear to do, even though they’re your own flesh and blood.”
Ruby’s face turned red and she lowered her head. “I do love them,” she whispered, “an’ I’m sorry about what Lyssa did. I try, but I don’t have any control over her.”
Tyne tried to quell the unexpected twinge of compassion. “Okay Ruby. I’m sure it’s difficult at times. But what about Ronald? You don’t deny his dad beat him?”
Still looking at the floor, Ruby shook her head from side to side. “No, I don’t deny that. Bill is hard on him, always has been.”
“Couldn’t you stop him?”
There was a long pause, during which Tyne became aware that someone stood nearby. She looked up to see a middle-aged woman hesitate in the doorway, then move on when Ruby spoke. “I tried to stop him at first, but he’d turn on me. I couldn’t stand up to him; he’s a big man.”
Tyne felt revulsion. “Did he hit you?”

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562884

https://www.amazon.com/dp/192676319X

Swamped

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

“But he claims you assured him the hole is good. The market is telling
him something else.”
“It is a good hole, Eteo. Why do you doubt it?”
Eteo had to pause for a moment to find smoother words than the
first ones that came to mind.
“Look, Richard. If they really had a good hole, they wouldn’t
make a cash call now. They would release the news that their hole
was good. Simple as that. Asking for more money so fast, I have to
tell you, Richard, it’s not a good sign. I don’t like it, and neither does
Bernard.”
“Don’t be so pessimistic, Eteo. We have a good hole, you’ll see.”
“I hope so Richard, I hope so. But looking at the market, if it
thought the hole was good, there would have been lots of buying orders
from the drillers themselves, you know that. We would have seen
them by now. I’m afraid your guy has got nothing and just wants to
milk the partners for as long as he can.”
Eteo paused and took a deep breath. Richard was silent too. Finally,
all he could say was, “It will be a good hole, you’ll see.”
“You know,” Eteo warned, “Bernard could be a bad partner if he
found out that anything was kept from him.”
“Why? What did he say to you?” Richard asked, sounding
alarmed now.
“I’m just advising, Richard, that Bernard could be a very negative
factor in the market if he felt cheated. He could try to undermine you
just for the principle of it. I know him.”
“Come on, Eteo. There aren’t any principles in this market, and
you know it. If my market picks up, he’ll make money on it too. Why
would he undermine me.”
“Then the question arises, how will you move your market with
a bad drill hole?”
“Don’t say that, Eteo. I have a good drill hole. You’ll see when the
news is out.”
“I hope so for your sake, Richard”
“Are you trying to warn me about something more specific, Eteo?
Is there something you’re not telling me?”

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562976

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08WP3LMPX

Savages and Beasts

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

…flowing in his veins. Marcus knew well he could graduate from
this school tonight he could take his diploma tonight he could
put the Kamloops Indian Residential School behind him and
behind his sister by just learning how to kill. This was the lesson
he had to learn tonight and the power of such a lesson kept him
quiet in the closet just behind Sister Gladys’ desk.
Suddenly footsteps were heard. A door opened and a man
walked along the long hallway going towards the sleeping quarters
of the girls. Marcus moved the closet door a bit open enough to
discern Father Thomas going his regular direction. Marcus walked
out of the closet and twelve steps further he hid behind the door
leading upstairs to the rooms of the priests and nuns. Moments
passed, moments that felt like eons when suddenly Marcus stopped
even his heartbeats as he felt on his body the back of the door opening
slowly. Two persons entered: a girl, his sister Deborah, held by
the hand by Father Thomas who was right next to her.
Marcus charged like a thunder and before the priest turned
to look he had wielded the knife twice up and down striking the
back of the priest in two places. The priest, struck by surprise,
tried to turn and look who was doing the killing when he received
two more strikes on his chest. With a loud cry Father Thomas
stepped backwards and losing his balance he fell on his back and
his head hit the wooden post of the stairs and with a noisy thud
he collapsed on the floor.
“Let’s go,” Marcus said to his sister and taking her by
the hand the priest was holding a few seconds earlier he led her
towards the main entrance door which they found locked. They
ran to the basement and to the carpentry shop, Marcus climbed
on a short ladder and opened one of the two windows. Deborah
first then Marcus crawled out of the building and, running as fast
as they could distanced themselves from the mausoleum.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763602

Jazz with Ella

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

Ivan Nikolaevich, the second rate agent. Still, she wanted the director to know that she had been correct in her suspicions.
“Da, da, yes, of course,” nodded the functionary, pawing through his desk drawer searching for something. The man’s an idiot, she thought. This is the quality of worker who stands guard over the country! Saints preserve us, as my old grandmother used to say. Finally, the man produced another form, this one on blue paper. “In order to use the official phone line, you must fill in this form.”
“Phone him now!” Natasha raised her voice in hopes that the supervisor would hear her and look out his door. “I’m not filling in one more form!”
The man’s expression did not change but this time he abandoned the new form, picked up the receiver and asked her for the number. After some dialling, waiting and dialling again, he announced that he could not get through. He replaced the receiver quietly. “The supervisor will attend to your complaint tomorrow,” he told her.
Natasha struggled to control her breathing. “Tomorrow WILL BE TOO LATE. She’s passing through the line now; I can see her from here.” Indeed, Lona had already slipped through the passport control while they had been on the phone. The young man’s face creased in a troubled frown. “Very well, comrade. I will take the name of the tourist and her flight number and pass it on to the customs officials myself.”
Now we’re getting somewhere, Natasha thought. “I’ll go with you,” she said aloud. She took a certain perverse pleasure in being in on the moment of discovery. Of course the poor fool Chopyk would be angry with her…
“I’m sorry, comrade, that will not be possible,” the guard replied. “It is not permitted to pass through that door into the airport again. You must leave by the fire exit.” He gestured at a door on the far side of the room. “It is a regulation. Thank you and good day.”
Natasha drew herself up to her full five feet, four inches, cast one more withering glare at the man, and stalked toward the fire exit and out of the lives of the tour group from Canada.
“Documents, please.” Jennifer watched as Lona, standing in front of her, tensed at the command. She could feel her own apprehensiveness growing as she waited, her toes behind the yellow line. This first barrier marked Passport Control was a preview to the inspection room.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562892

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763246

Jazz with Ella

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

Ivan Nikolaevich, the second rate agent. Still, she wanted the director to know that she had been correct in her suspicions.
“Da, da, yes, of course,” nodded the functionary, pawing through his desk drawer searching for something. The man’s an idiot, she thought. This is the quality of worker who stands guard over the country! Saints preserve us, as my old grandmother used to say. Finally, the man produced another form, this one on blue paper. “In order to use the official phone line, you must fill in this form.”
“Phone him now!” Natasha raised her voice in hopes that the supervisor would hear her and look out his door. “I’m not filling in one more form!”
The man’s expression did not change but this time he abandoned the new form, picked up the receiver and asked her for the number. After some dialling, waiting and dialling again, he announced that he could not get through. He replaced the receiver quietly. “The supervisor will attend to your complaint tomorrow,” he told her.
Natasha struggled to control her breathing. “Tomorrow WILL BE TOO LATE. She’s passing through the line now; I can see her from here.” Indeed, Lona had already slipped through the passport control while they had been on the phone. The young man’s face creased in a troubled frown. “Very well, comrade. I will take the name of the tourist and her flight number and pass it on to the customs officials myself.”
Now we’re getting somewhere, Natasha thought. “I’ll go with you,” she said aloud. She took a certain perverse pleasure in being in on the moment of discovery. Of course the poor fool Chopyk would be angry with her…
“I’m sorry, comrade, that will not be possible,” the guard replied. “It is not permitted to pass through that door into the airport again. You must leave by the fire exit.” He gestured at a door on the far side of the room. “It is a regulation. Thank you and good day.”
Natasha drew herself up to her full five feet, four inches, cast one more withering glare at the man, and stalked toward the fire exit and out of the lives of the tour group from Canada.
“Documents, please.” Jennifer watched as Lona, standing in front of her, tensed at the command. She could feel her own apprehensiveness growing as she waited, her toes behind the yellow line. This first barrier marked Passport Control was a preview to the inspection room.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562892

Redemption

On By vequinoxIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

excerpt

It seemed that the dean had learned this
speech by heart and repeated it like a parrot, irrelevant what was the
country’s current situation.
Hermes sat next to Eleni, feeling bored and angry: under the
junta, things were not good at all, and they wouldn’t get any better
any time soon; and the graduates were not going to do better than
the previous ones. If nothing was done, things were only going to
get worse. Hermes tried very hard to be attentive, and when his name
was called, he got up and walked slowly to the dean, who smiled and
shook his hand before handing him the “holy” paper.
Hermes nodded his head and smiled politely at the dean and
the rest of the officials, as well as his professors. Deep inside him,
Hermes felt the urge to stand up in front of them and give them a
real piece of his mind, but he knew it was not his time yet, so he went
back to his seat. His head throbbed from the tension, which Eleni
sensed as she also sensed that he was absorbed in his own world, so
she asked,
“Are you okay? You look like you don’t like being here.”
“I have this bad headache. My head is really hurting.”
“This thing is just about over. We’ll go soon.”
He nodded, and indeed the ceremony was quickly over, and
the people started to disperse. He and Eleni rose from their seats and
walked toward the exit.
At the door, George, a clerk from the secretary’s office, stopped
them.
“Again, congratulations, young man,” he said to Hermes.
“Oh, thank you, George.”
“The dean would like to see you before you go.”
Surprised, Hermes left Eleni and followed the secretary in the
long hallway to the dean’s office. He knocked at the door and entered.
The head of the university welcomed him and praised him for all the
good work he had done. After all, Hermes was the student with the
highest marks in his class.
Hermes waited for the dean to get to the point.

https://draft2digital.com/book/4172538#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763858