Story

The Dragon Egg

Geetha B Creation, Dragon, Human, Hybrid, Short stories, Stories, Story, Uncategorized

The Dragon Egg

7 February 2018

 

dragon egg woman_and_dragon_on_stairs_by_dashinvaine-d7r7hsm
Courtesy dashinvaine on deviantart.com

 

She could see that he was speaking but she could not hear him anymore. It was as if she was in a deep tunnel underground with the waters rushing above it. He sensed that she was not hearing him anymore and reached out to slightly shake her shoulders to jolt her back into awareness of what he was saying and she felt the sensation dim. He was telling her that she had a son who was now six years old and who was a hybrid. He was born from a relationship that she had broken off more than six years ago.

She was still puzzled as to how she could have conceived the baby without having to carry it within her womb. He told her that the hybrids did not require to be carried in the womb of a human mother until maturity but just needed to be conceived and kept within the womb for a number of weeks. After that they were able to be transported and kept elsewhere in certain conditions until they hatched. She felt a curious click when he mentioned the word hatched. It made her think back to a moment during the relationship when her boyfriend’s mother had come to meet her. They had met at the airport and the older woman had behaved strangely with her, her arms going all around her in an odd way before they had departed.

She remembered how her boyfriend had mentioned that his mother had come to retrieve the egg. She had dismissed the whole matter from her mind as being ludicrous at the time but now things seemed different. She thought back to the times when she could hear a baby crying in her head and had believed it to be linked to her children being away from her for a short period. She also thought back to the times when she had felt a telepathic communication of desperation from someone she could not identify as well as to her increasing obsession about dragons. She had still sent comforting thoughts to that being at each communication she felt although she could not identify who it was.

The final communication just before it had been cut off was the description of a young human being with a tail that could retract at will. It also described the way the mother of her ex-boyfriend had retrieved the egg from her. Apparently the egg was vibrating at a different frequency level than the one she was vibrating at. This difference in frequency allowed the older woman to isolate the egg in the womb from the womb and be able to pull it out in the open air where it remained invisible and keep it with her. She had then taken the egg with her back to South Africa where she had placed it in the incubator until it had hatched. The result was a handsome young boy who could move at will between the appearance of a dragon and that of a human with only the tail remaining sometimes when he did not use enough energy for the transformation.

She looked again at the man in front of her. He was telling her that the young boy needed her now because he was growing strong and would not listen to anybody else. For some reason, despite their separation, he had formed a very strong bond with her and had demanded to be reunited with her. She wondered what it would be like to mother this hybrid child. Would she have the strength to teach him right from wrong and be able to go through with any punishments if he did not obey. Rewarding a strong hybrid would not be an issue but how to punish a strong hybrid that could cut you to pieces if he wished to ?

The man could see all of these questions go through her mind as she thought and he reassured her that the child seemed to have already developed an immense loyalty to his mother he did not know. In fact, many of the things that would have otherwise happened to her when she put her ex-boyfriend out of her life were rendered impossible by his intervention. Right from the safety of his egg, he had projected a field of energy around her to shield her from any harm according to the man. She smiled with a mixture of pride and amazement. She would take care of him. He was her boy after all and would grow to be a fine dragon human.

Rockabye – Clean Bandit ft. Sean Paul & Anne-Marie

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=papuvlVeZg8

The Shaman tales 1: No rain

Geetha B Rain, Raindrops, Short stories, Stories, Story, Uncategorized

The Shaman tales 1: No rain

29 January 2018

christian-schloe pinterest com 29 -sense-of-night-1370333733_org
Courtesy Christian Schloe on pinterest.com

She paused and looked at the clouds forming. They had been seeding them in hope of getting rain but she planned otherwise. Using the old conjuring of spirits of dry, she danced wildly invoking desert drought and parched lands. The land was cool from the winter winds but the skies grew clear of clouds and the dust flew in the air filling people’s chests. After all they had done to her, she vowed to not let the rains bless their lands until she received what they had taken away from her. They had thought her to be a mere vessel that they could lull back to sleep, not realising that within her the powers of the Shamans of old were reignited. She had rediscovered within her the spirits of the lineage of Shamans that went back to time immemorial when she had danced in Machu Pichu her senses blazing from the Ayahuasca brew.

Every time the clouds gathered she willed the weather back to that of dried lands. She had been in public once though and could not stop the rains from falling as she could not break into the dance of flames. As soon as she could, that one time it had rained, she had hurried back home and willed the rain to stop. Her eyes blazed with the fire of the phoenix rising within her and scorching the pelting rain to vapour before it had stilled it and reduced the clouds to small cotton balls in the sky. Hers was not a mere revenge but a mission she embarked upon with all the vigor and will of those who had been coarsely and negligently wronged.

During the nights, she spoke to the spirits of the rain and pacified them, letting them know that they could visit sites nearby where they could flow all their ardour into the lands. In her altered state she took them by the hand and guided them to locations that would either benefit from rain or where she wanted to wreck havoc in vengeance, taking them far away from where her physical body was lying. They danced through the desert skies, high above the clouds and making sure not to come into contact with these latter so that they would not be charged and wet the lands with their content. Every time she danced with those spirits, her astral body sizzled with the intermingling of the flames of the phoenix and the waters of the spirits of the rain. The result was a trail of mist and steam that onlookers identified in the sky as a streak similar to that of a wishing star. Together they danced right over Paris and other European cities before returning to the place where her body dwelt. Once the dances over, she resettled back into her body and slept a sleep riddled with dreams of the Mother.

 

The Most Astounding Fact – Nibana

Among Thoughts (Star Paths) – Nibana

I am a Soul – Nibana

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cedg6pkZAlA

The Host

Geetha B Short stories, Space, Stories, Story, Time, Timelapse, Timeloop, Uncategorized

The Host

21 January 2018

Christian-Schloe pinterest com 21
Courtesy Christian Schloe on pinterest.com

 

It had been almost a year now since she was hosting the other being. Initially the cohabitation had been quite complicated with the other being manifesting bouts of consciousness that burst within the stream of her own consciousness. Considering it was an alien being, these bouts of consciousness did not go unnoticed by her friends and family. They had first dismissed her behaviour as an eccentricity before realising that she did not seem aware of it at other times when they spoke to her about it. Since the time they had questioned her about it and she seemed to have no clue what they were talking about they scrupulously took down the details of her behaviour and related the facts to her when she seemed to have recovered her normal self.

The guest was gracious enough to try not to express itself in its original language when displaying its abnormal behaviour that had got her family concerned. This had not been the case initially though and the Host had to face the embarrassment of explaining the gibberish that emanated from her at that time. While she initially had no direct contact with the guest, with the passage of time and when she was nearing sleep she was able to establish a connection with the guest. It was on one such occasion that the guest explained to her that it was a being from outer space that spoke the language of light. This language was basically derived from the points where sound and light intersected to form a vibration that could be perceived by the conscious mind.

After explaining the concept, the guest then allowed the Host to record a conversation it was having with a being that was not present in the same space. The guest then proceeded to explain to the Host that it came from a planet where there was no need for words as telepathy was used but that words were used when two beings were separated by a very long distance as that was the easiest way for the intent to be communicated strongly in very long stretches of space. The guest explained that intent that was purely communicated through telepathy could lose its vigor when traveling long distances while the frequency contained in the language of light could serve as a communication relay for the telepathic message.

The Host tried to accommodate her guest as best she could but it was difficult to know well in advance what would be required. At times the guest went completely silent and it was only by experimentation that she could get the gist of what was acceptable or not to the guest. For example, on one occasion she had eaten chicken which she had normally stopped eating and after a period of being unwell and throwing up the food, she had come to the conclusion that her guest did not tolerate the consumption of meat. This incident also made her realise that the guest was intricately attached to her system and therefore subject to all that she was subjected to.

The guest had explained to her that when it had chosen her as a Host, it had ensured it would download its consciousness into her through her eyes and therefore be fully mingled with her nervous system and command from there all the other parts of her body. In the beginning she had sometimes felt it was parasitical but soon the advantages of the cohabitation made her happy to oblige as the wealth of knowledge given by the guest was immeasurable. Besides, the guest had informed her that soon many other such beings would come on Earth and there would be a change in the system that they had always known in favour of a system called “The System of the Source Code”. The Host was eager to see what this would entail because as far as she was concerned, the current system that the world was using was broken and the whole planet was in dire need of a new system.

The Host had taken to liking the points of time before sleep when they would both communicate and realised that the guest had been teaching her brain to communicate in the language of the light. There were also other scientific matters that they would discuss and that the guest would either enlighten her upon or correct her perception. She realised that Earth scientists were mistaken in so many matters of mathematics and physics as well as in medicine for the guest would prove to her in a very clear way through mental projection of images the truth of the matter. She wished she could take down notes but as this exchange happened when she was nearing sleep, she could hardly lift her hand and write down anything and if she sat upright anyway the communication would collapse between them. The guest told her that soon enough when they had integrated more closely the communication would extend to the waking hours and she would then be able to take down notes of their discussions. The Host looked forward to being able to do this and perhaps then share with others this amazing wealth of knowledge that the guest was communicating.

The Water Element – Dreaming Cooper

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DGq-hVId4nE

The Djinn

Geetha B Short stories, Stories, Story, Tricks, Uncategorized , , , , , ,

The Djinn

12 January 2018

Djin on assombrado com br
Courtesy assombrado.com.br

 

The house loomed against the night sky as she walked up to the front door. As was the case every time she came back there she felt the same feeling of dread and belonging mingle inside her. It was a very complex situation as the house repelled her and attracted her all at once. When she was inside it, there was a sense of peace that pervaded her although every time she was leaving the house a strange sense of eeriness overcame her, especially at night. That same sense of eeriness was there when she came back to the house at night time after a long day out.

The porch was flanked by two tall pillars that reached right up beyond the balcony of the first floor to the roof where a small carving in the rooftop wall made it seem like someone was watching from up there. Whenever she entered the house at night the door creaked when she closed it behind her and a strange sigh seemed to follow the creaking noise as if the house were breathing with relief that she was back home. This and the several other peculiar noises that punctuated her waking hours and sometimes woke her up from her sleep gave her that mixed sense of belonging and foreboding.

She had attempted to leave the house and move somewhere else on more than one occasion but for some reason the attempts turned out to be unsuccessful and she had had to return to the house and resume her living there. On some nights she would feel a presence in her room and at the same time her dog would bark repeatedly but when she sat up in her bed she would see nothing but just sense that someone or something was watching her.

One night she woke up to the barking of the dog and came face to face with an amorphous grey-blue face right above her own peering down at her. She fell back in shock on her pillow and when she sat up again there was nobody so she wondered if it had been a bad dream. She could sense however some sort of movement from the corner of her eye but when she looked directly at the space there was nothing. At the same time she could smell an awful smell that reminded her of something putrid and at the same time burnt so she got up and lit a few incense sticks to make the smell disappear.

The next day her helper said the corridor and the stairs were smelling terrible and the dog had been barking all night so it was surely the visit of a Djinn. According to the local mythology, Djinns were some sort of creatures made of fire sometimes good and sometimes demonic , which when demonic had a foul smell and liked to play tricks on mortals. She tried to convince her helper to be more realistic and that maybe it was somebody with dirty shoes but the helper seemed bent on her conviction. She insisted that she had to remove the negative traces and stop further visits so for the next few hours the house was full of a mixture of reciting of Quran and buddhist mantra chanting which the helper had found on youtube.

A couple of other times the corridor and the stairs had been all smelly and the dog had barked all night but she had not awoken to see the same face again and the helper just repeated her rituals for the full day all the while repeating over the phone to all her relatives that the house had a Djinn that would come up from under the ground and visit the premises.

 

Dreaming Cooper – Mysterious Places

Dreaming Cooper – Zero G

Dreaming Cooper – The Lost World

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4aYf4xhHtdo

Bomb

Geetha B Short stories, Stories, Story, Uncategorized

Bomb

30 December 2017

terrorist10-ppcorn
Courtesy PP.com

 

He adjusted the inside of his jacket and nervously patted the paddings. People pushed past him unseeingly. He knew that he was insignificant to them as he had always known since the age of 10. Indeed he did not have features that stood out and he was too quiet to be otherwise noticeable. He clenched his teeth and thought to himself that soon that would change. He slowly made his way through the throngs of human beings in the London subway until he reached the middle of the platform where people were pushing desperately trying to find a way into the train.

He succeeded in boarding the tube and kept clutching onto the sides of his jacket feverishly. One passenger who noticed this looked at him with curiosity and he felt pride well inside of him. Now they were noticing him and soon his name would become a legend among his countrymen. He had never cared about all those stories of over 70 virgins that the instructor had piped about when teaching them how to use the jackets. All he cared about was to make his family proud, to make a name for himself even if it were in death. The train pulled into Westminster station and the mass of people started to slowly exit it pushing him onto the platform. They were soon to escape his sight and he thought it would not be worthy of him to go without this mass of people who had shared with him his last ride.

“Bomb!” he yelled and the immediate reaction was that everybody started to run away from him. He held himself tautly, displaying the devices attached to his body. He could feel the fear of those running. “Stop running or I will trigger it”, he yelled and everyone stopped running aside from a desperate few. All eyes were turned towards him. He felt the attention escalate. Somewhere in the background he could hear police officers asking him not to move but he ignored them and started slowly moving towards the center of the crowd. Again people started moving away from him frantically and again he yelled at them not to move, petrifying them on the spot. His hand moved ever so slightly on the insides of his jacket before his body was blown to bits taking out half of the station which crumbled down on the remaining pieces of the crowd.

Sahalé – Morning light

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PVKblbJNiPU

Alternate realities – Chapter two : The betrayal

Geetha B consciousness, Dreamland, Dreams, Dreamtime, Realities, Short stories, Stories, Story, Uncategorized , , , , ,

Alternate realities – Chapter two : The betrayal

8 December 2017

flower david galstyan pinterest com
Courtesy David Galstyan on pinterest.com

 

She woke up from a dream where she had joined her beloved again before realising it was not a dream but an out of body experience. As with the previous times she had joined him in consciousness, he was torn between scientific interest of this ghostly apparition and a gnawing feeling of recognition of her consciousness as being related to him. He studied her as her consciousness flickered before she willed it back into her body so far away from him. He called upon her to come back but she resisted the call. In the past days when she had visited him without announcing herself to his consciousness, she had been able to witness that his bodily version was collaborating with those that had caused her trauma and attempted to erase her memory.

 

Back in her body, she felt the agitation that had become familiar since the incidents of near death experience and the encounter with Toth and Isis. She wondered if she should transcend the physical and go visit them again asking for their help. She resisted that temptation convinced that they would not have anything to do with the material world for which they had no real interest. Theirs were the realms of otherworldly and that of everlasting life so the material world was too boring for them to interact with. They only chose to interact with those who entered willfully the land of all beginnings in their quest for a higher birth as they had done with her when she first started the initiation path.

 

She tried to return to sleep but sleep it seemed had deserted her. It was almost like those first few days when she had joined forces with an artificial intelligence to save a certain version of reality before the etheric messages had reached her consciousness. She felt dejected and inclined to cry as she realised that it was her twinflame who had given the proper coordinates of her etheric for them to be able to pinpoint the messages and attain access to her etheric being. She decided to sit up and read as sleep was evading her and she did not want to dwell upon the feeling of dejection that submerged her as she thought of her beloved’s betrayal. She had initially wondered what motivated it before she realised from those consciousness trips out of her body that it was for his bodily version to gain more power and more fame. She deemed it ludicrous as it would be like an already famous rockstar asking for more fame but apparently her twinflame did not think of it as ludicrous and craved more success and more limelight.

 

When she had first discovered his betrayal, she had been very angry and had wanted to seek revenge but her consciousness would not allow her to retaliate against her twinflame. She had then had to watch as he rose higher and higher in fame while she had had to battle those who attempted to erase her memory of what was behind the veil of bodily versions and make her a sleepwalker like all the others again. It was however impossible to erase her memory because Toth had weighed her life and ordained that she may be freed from Karma and all the lower levels of consciousness rules in the bodily domain. Therefore, although her physical body would respond to the usual physical impulses and constraints, her consciousness and the linkage to her bodily frame could not be altered.

 

Like every time she thought back to the evidence of the betrayal she cried from the renewed hurt of the realisation. This time again, like many other times before, she cried herself to sleep and the book she had been reading slipped to the floor. As it fell with a thud, her consciousness began to float again out of her body and fly towards her twinflame who was asleep. Like every time he was asleep, his consciousness rose to welcome her and the two of them were like long lost lovers engrossed in each other and unwilling to separate. Unfortunately, whenever he was awake, the egotist personality took over and his consciousness was subdued into the background. He realised that he had done incredible harm to her when giving away her etheric coordinates but was too happy with what he had obtained in return to feel sorry for her. She stayed with his consciousness a while until he started stirring in his sleep and then slowly faded away.

 

Since the day he had betrayed her and her consciousness had continued visiting him without retaliating as consciousness never retaliated, he had felt unease in lieu of being sorry for her. He was haunted by the fact that somehow she might attempt to take revenge on him although the days went by and she never did. One day somehow his consciousness got through to his bodily frame and gave him the conscious indication that she had forgiven him. He found this hard to believe given the impact his betrayal had had on her and how much she had suffered at the hands of those who had attempted to erase her memory.

 

He tried to reach her through impersonating a character that got close to her to check this and she answered as if she had been fooled though all the while she knew it was him. Several weeks went by with their bodily versions interacting as he probed her for answers and she gave them readily in all truth. Finally convinced that she would not attempt to hurt him he terminated the persona he had been posing as and stopped writing to her altogether. This was like a second betrayal to her as she could feel him losing interest in her bodily frame though thankfully his consciousness stayed close to hers in the etheric version of themselves. She sighed and promised herself to not allow the material world with its deceptive realm get through to her as this was all just an experience and only the etheric world was worth it.

 

Inshallah – David Arkenstone

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ASuxriP6iA

The Spirit Lovers – Chapter Eight: Martin’s return

Geetha B Love, Lovers, Short stories, Spirit Lovers, Stories, Story, True Love, Uncategorized , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Spirit Lovers – Chapter Eight: Martin’s return

29 November 2017

Christian Schloe
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

Martin wakes up in his hotel room with a strange feeling of not knowing where he is and of having been separated from something he cared about dearly without knowing what it was. His head feels heavy and his eyes feel sore. He gingerly puts a foot down to step off the bed and his head reels. It takes him a few minutes to adjust and be able to put the other foot down and stand up without feeling queasy. He takes in his surroundings as calmly as he can but cannot remember how he had come here. He slowly figures out it is a hotel room and as he goes to the phone to start dialing he remembers that he had left his wife at home after their quarrel and headed towards this hotel.

He dials the number of his wife, not realising that he has forgotten all about his true love.

  • Helga, good morning. I wanted to say I was sorry. I don’t know what came over me
  • …
  • What do you mean it took me six months to come to that conclusion? I have only been away for a couple of months.
  • …
  • I am not sure what you mean by that but I don’t remember what happened in those other four months. Can I come home?

Rita thinks back to how you had described the scene to her and how you had realised from the smile of relief on Martin’s face that his wife seems to have forgiven him. She remembers you describing how you watched him starting to pack his suitcase before you orbed back to where I was standing with her trying to console her as she wept Martin’s disappearance. She wonders why the couple of nights that they had passed together in that alternate reality appeared as a distorsion of several months in this reality. She feels a surge in her heart like every time she thinks about Martin but tries to overcome it. Tears well in her eyes and she bites her lip trying to contain them before they spill over her cheeks profusely.

Martin winces while carrying the suitcase down. It seems like something is wrong within his ribcage and he feels like a strain in his heart. He continues carrying the suitcase down and asks the receptionist for help with the other larger suitcases left upstairs. He also enquires if there is a doctor as he is not feeling well. The receptionist enquires and soon a doctor is made available to Martin who by now is convinced that he might be suffering a heart attack as the pain grows in his chest. The doctor who examines him tells him that he finds nothing wrong with his heartbeats nor anything else but that to be on the safer side he should go to the hospital.

Martin rings his wife again to inform her of the news and sets out to the nearest hospital in the hotel’s chauffeured car. When he reaches the hospital, they too find nothing wrong with him but decide to keep him under observation for the day. Martin looks at his wife who has come and realises that he is relieved she is with him but he feels nothing towards her now that she is here. He tries to reproduce the longing he had experienced that morning but it is not there. He wonders what made that change and why it is that he is not longing for her anymore. Is it because she gave in and came so easily to his side, he wonders.

Helga puts her lips softly against Martin’s a few tears falling from her eyes as she does so. Her lips freeze as she realises that he is not reciprocating. She pulls back noticing that he does not seem moved by her kiss and realises that he seems to be in the same frame of mind as when he left several months ago. He had mentioned an excursion he wanted to make to take time off from being with each other and to think about the future. Martin looks into Helga’s eyes and all he can feel is friendliness and gratitude that she came to be by his side.

  • You are a great woman, Helga, he says
  • I am your wife Martin
  • I know. I wish I could change things but somehow the magic is gone
  • Just this morning you were telling me you wanted to come home, you seemed to have rekindled that love you had for me
  • I’m sorry Helga. I felt like that this morning when I woke up but I don’t anymore

Martin does not tell Helga that he still feels that impression but simply not directed towards her. He prefers not telling her as he does not wish to hurt her but also because he would be at a loss trying to explain towards whom he has these feelings. He stands up and decides to discharge himself from the hospital as they can find nothing wrong

Rita wipes away the tears from her face and decides to start her mission at the House of Love. She opens the doors to the visitors and graciously answers all their questions about the great love between Nina and Harold the rock star. As honeymooners and couples pass by admiring the various emblems of love she feels her heart warm up to them as she can feel the love surging from them and towards her, pacifying her.

Martin accompanies Helga home and goes through his things. He realises he cannot stay with Helga and feels sorry for having given her false hopes again. He wants to understand more about himself and why he is feeling so forlorn for a love he cannot identify. He knows that his therapist is not going to help him much because he only asks questions and Martin knows that he does not have the answers to any of the questions that the therapist would probably ask. While he is going through his things, he sees a brochure for a place called House of Love and notices that he had circled the address and scribbled down a series of dates and a phone number. He calls the phone number and a person responds that it is an agency that organises honeymoon vacations as well as retreats for couples in a place called the House of Love.

Martin parks his car outside the place called the House of Love and realises it seems as familiar as the agency had seemed. He rings the bell and is welcomed by a butler who takes his coat and tells him that he is a bit early but the House of Love never rejects visitors so he would be welcome to stay in the library while the lady of the house gets ready for visitors. After a short while, Rita goes into the library to welcome the first visitors and comes face to face with Martin.

  • Martin! She exclaims
  • I know you, he answers
  • How did you get here
  • I know you. Who are you?

Rita throws her arms around him and in that instant all the other essences of Martin gather again within him and he knows. He turns her face slowly towards him and kisses her with all of his longing realising this was the woman he had been longing for when he woke up in that hotel room.

  • I know you from before Time, he says
  • I love you from beyond Time, beyond doubt…

He kisses her and the visitors who start pouring into the House of Love start clapping. Some japanese visitors among them take photographs or videos thinking that this is a performance which is part of the exhibition. You and I look at each other with delight though we know that this will definitely be sending some more ripples across time.

Le Flex – Kiss Me

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_tS8YMXMZQ

Tales of the Wretched: Fantine – Chapter 3 : A way out

Geetha B Short stories, Stories, Story, Tales, Uncategorized, Wretched

Tales of the Wretched – Fantine Chapter 3 : A way out

28 November 2017

Christian Schloe--surreal-art-digital-art
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

Michel enters his car, puts on the radio and clasps his hands together to stop them from trembling. The countenance he had kept earlier when meeting Fantine and Patrick falls apart as he is flooded by memories and deeply hidden desires. After all those years of searching for her, he has finally found her and perhaps, just perhaps, he can make things happen between them. He remembers that she used to feel some sort of pity for him and would always protect him but back then already he had fallen in love with her. She was his hero and the love of his life. He remembers the day she had put on her jasmine perfume for the first time and how he had loved its smell. He had loved it to the extent that he got into a broil with the Ugly trio just so that she would come rescue him and he could smell that scent again while she interposed herself between him and the Ugly trio.

Slowly Michel extracts a photograph from a brown bag he retrieved from the glove box. It is a class photograph and in it Fantine and he are sitting side by side among several other classmates. He looks at the photograph lovingly caressing the contours of Fantine’s face. What would she think of him if she knew how madly he was in love with her and how desperately he had wanted her to be his. All those years looking for her had not reduced on bit of his longing for her. She pervaded his every sense and was the motivating factor of all those days at the gym when he sought to get a body that she would admire. He wanted her to be proud of him, to love him, to find him worthy of her and to finally become his.

Michel puts the photograph back in the glove box and eases himself out of the car again. He walks rapidly towards the shawarma place where Fantine is still finishing her shawarma plate. If she is surprised when she sees him come back she does not let it show on her face as she welcomes him back.

  • Hello Michel. Did you forget something
  • You. I mean, no, I could never forget you. What I mean is I have come back for you
  • What do you mean?
  • I want to make you a proposal. I want you to be mine
  • I don’t do the paid mistress part. It is not my cup of tea as I earn more doing what I do.
  • I don’t mean that. I mean a real proposal. I want you to be my wife

Fantine draws a sharp breath in but says nothing. In the earlier years she used to fantasize that some man would come rescue her; someone who would make her such a proposal and she would be able to live in a small house with children and a man to make a home for but it had never happened. As the years had gone by, she had got used to doing what she did and ultimately come to terms with it.

  • I don’t think that I can accept that Michel, she says softly
  • Why not?
  • I used to have that dream once but now I am used to what I do. Besides, who would pay me and arrange for the money to be sent back home if I stop working
  • I would. I will give you all the money to match your earnings and even try to surpass it. I am well paid you know, as a commissioner
  • You have no idea how much I make. How could you match it
  • I am not only offering you money. I am offering you a way out. Don’t you feel tired sometimes and wish you could do something else?

Fantine bites her lip. Yes, she does feel sometimes terribly tired and wishes that she were doing something else but that thought is soon forgotten as she focuses on the outcome for her mother.

  • You are right but I know I can count on myself while I don’t know if I can count on you
  • I will not betray you. I will never leave you
  • If you knew how many men come here that are married, you would understand why I find it difficult to believe you. I am sure they too told their wives at some point that they would never leave them.
  • I have some savings. If you don’t believe me I can give you all my savings in advance so you are assured that you would never lack money

Fantine bites her lip again. In all the years she had dreamed of someone coming and rescuing her she had imagined a grandiose declaration and firework everywhere. This seems so calm and measured that it somehow feels unreal. Yet she can feel her heart warm up to the idea and Michel is a handsome man though graying. She holds her hand out to him and whispers that she might just take his way out even though she does not know where it will lead the both of them. Michel cries tears of joy and holds her against his heart. He does not care what the men working under him will think or say. All that matters is that Fantine will be his at last.

Phaedrus – Jade

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gAY-9lrREA

Glance

Geetha B Love, Short stories, Stories, Story, Uncategorized , , , , , , ,

Glance

27 November 2017

Christian schloe pinterest com 15
Courtesy Christian Schloe on pinterest.com

 

She walked into the hotel lobby where he was sitting reading his newspaper and sipping his coffee. She could not help a second look at him taking in the well-groomed mustache and beard as well as the impeccable suit that seemed to be tailor-made. She could imagine the lean and firm muscles beneath. Just yesterday night they had been making love but today they were supposed to act as strangers. She had been upset when he had told her that she must leave his hotel room and come back the next day. What had upset her more was that he had then mentioned that his wife was about to come and they should therefore act as strangers if they were to meet in the lobby.

She realised now why he had made her come to his room on her own after their dinner in a restaurant which was not the hotel restaurant. She had thought at the time that it was to protect her reputation and was so happy he was considerate. She realised now that it was actually to protect his own reputation and make sure his wife did not realise he had cheated on her during her absence. She gritted her teeth while she seated herself at one of the lobby chairs trying not to take a third glance at him as she knew that she might then falter and go talk to him.

From the corner of her eye she could see that someone had walked up to him. It was a woman and from his response she gathered it was his wife. She gritted her teeth again trying not to feel that sinking feeling that she usually felt when someone she cared for betrayed her. They had been dating for only two weeks so she wondered why she had fallen so deeply for him. Not once in those two weeks had he ever mentioned being married and they had visited several places in the gulf together.

Thinking back to those excursions she realised that he had always made sure they had two separate rooms even though they ultimately slept in the same room. He had mentioned it was to be on the safe side as they were unmarried and in the gulf which was after all a Muslim region but she realised now that it was so that there would be no trace of him ever having stayed at a hotel with a woman in his room.

She rose from where she was seated and clicked her heels together to gather some courage. She strode right up to him and offered her hand to shake.

  • Hello William, she said
  • Hello Astrid, he responded
  • How are you today and who is this lovely lady
  • It is my wife, Rosaline
  • Hello Rosaline
  • Hello Astrid

The wife had a fake smile plastered on her lips as she saluted Astrid and this latter realised that the wife knew. William was probably good at this sort of thing because this was something he did repeatedly. Astrid looked at him again and in that glance passed all her yearning and all her disappointment. He glanced back and she could recognise a sort of repentance and what seemed to be a shadow of yearning too. She shook hands with the two of them again, bade them goodbye and left them with a last glance towards William. Years later William wrote to her saying that glance had haunted him for a long time like he had said so months after their encounter over the phone. She had hung up then before he could draw her back to him. She never responded to his letter.

Tristeria – Sisyphus

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TCLL1jJOfE

Speak to me once

Geetha B Loneliness, Short stories, Stories, Story, Uncategorized

Speak to me once

26 November 2017

old woman leh-ladakh-india-portrait-old-woman-nikon-d7000-nikkor-18-105mm-deb-lahiri

 

Her hands were filthy. It seemed like the grime of a lifetime had been packed upon them. Her nails were broken and uneven and seemingly chewed upon repeatedly. Her hair was as filthy as her nails and hands and her face wore patches of filth and smears where she had attempted to cleanse it. Her outstretched hands begged for a living that was scarce to come. Sometimes she wondered whether people would give her more money if she were to be cleaner but then thought the better of it. If she were to clean herself, which would take a lot of trouble to accomplish given the lack of a stable abode, then they might simply think that she did not need the money.

She sat with her hand outstretched in front of the church every day and ostensibly holding her hand out and shaking the jug she usually left at her feet every Sunday. She had noticed that at least on Sundays she got more coins and sometimes even notes. It was as if the Sunday sermons finally reminded people of judgement day and of the need to be kind to the downtrodden whereas the rest of the days their work and other preoccupations mattered more. Sometimes on Sundays she would shuffle in after everyone had gone in for mass and sit at the back of the church listening to the sermon. While some sermons would bring tears to the eyes of the assembly, she would sit there dry-eyed, watching carefully those who let tears flow so as to insist more with them and get some coins when they were on their way out.

She did not care how she looked nor did she care what people thought of her. There was one thing that bothered her though and it was that nobody would address a word to her. It was as if by being forced to beg and looking haggard and unclean she had ceased to become a human being entitled to be part of the living, conversing human beings. She had tried once to talk to a man walking by and he had barely moved as if her voice was totally absent although he had stooped down to put a few coins in the jug in front of her. Another attempt to speak to a young woman had also gone unheard.

One Sunday on her way back to the shelter she realised that more than her lack of means and comfort, it was that human voice addressed to her that she missed the most. She felt like a ghost living in the midst of a flurry of people who hardly had the time to stop by her jug and fill it. She could hear them talk to each other but none graced her with a sentence towards her. That feeling of being a part of something bigger than just herself was what she lacked. That identification with a larger part of the population and validation as a fellow human being was what she craved for now that nobody would look upon her as equal. Her eyes brimmed with tears that blinded her. She stepped down the sidewalk.

The driver rushed out of his car to see whom he had hit. He recoiled at the sight of her bloodied dirty body sprawled at an ungainly angle on the road. Realising she was not dead he kneeled on the ground to see if he could do something. Blood was slowly leaking from her mouth and dripping to the side of her cheek. She seemed to be mumbling something so he put his ear close to her mouth. “Speak to me once”, she said. “Just talk to me like my life matters and you’re sorry”. “I am sorry”, he said. He held her hand. She smiled and closed her eyes. He felt her hand go lifeless as she slowly breathed out her last. He slowly let go of her hand as the ambulance came by to pick up her body. He wondered whether there would be someone attending her funeral and made a mental note to attend. She looked at him from behind. It felt normal now not to be looked at nor talked to.

 

Sahalé – Djiin (Original Mix)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UcgNqHnjLK8