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Monthly Archives: April 2013

The Travelers: Angela

This is such a beautiful story and unlike some of mine it leaves a sweet taste in your mouth! Do try!

Oh I DO Blather on, don't I?!?

Angela had spent her whole life stifled, taken in by the town in which she lived; muted, stilled, unable to move beyond the boundaries of either herself or this place.  She was hopeless and mundane, knowing that if there was greatness in her, or life, or spark, she would never find it, trapped as she was in dulling sameness.

Then the earthquake hit, toppling her house from its foundation, rocking the church to the ground, igniting old fears on Main Street, burning her prison to ashes.  She was free.

She left that very day, bundling her dog and the few clothes and supplies she could scrounge from the ruins into her old buick and heading north; away from the desert, away from the oil wells and the stink, away from her life.  She drove the backroads to Sacramento, East over the Sierras to Reno, then beyond, back into desert, travelling…

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Monopoly

“It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair. We’re only three hours into the game.  You’ll get yours back if you just keep playing!”

Zog scowled.

“How come you keep on getting sixes.  The dice is loaded if you ask me.”

“It’s not.  You won the LAST game.  With the SAME dice.  And you walked away with I don’t know how many thousand points and did I complain?  No.  I just said ok, congratulations!  Don’t be such a sore loser.”

“Anyway, there’s still plenty of time,” Horus interjected, looking from Zog to Baal and rolling his eyes.  He covered a yawn.  Monopoly bored him.  Why, he thought, do we play these interminable games?  It’s not as if it achieves anything!  And yet, what else is there to do round here?

Baal threw the die again, and smirked.

“I get New York.  Let’s see now – New York, London, Tokyo and the whole of Africa.  If you land on Africa a million of your lot get AIDS.”

“I’m sick of this game!” Zog burst out, and with one sweep of his fist, the board buckled and the counters went hurtling to the floor.  Horus sighed.  They’d be at it again tomorrow.  And the day after that.  Civilisations rose.  Civilisations fell.  With boring predictability.

A man called Dave looked out of his hotel bedroom window as a wall of water loomed improbably towards him.

“Jesus!” he said, “Oh my God!”

The three deities glanced down and snickered.

“You have to admit,” said Zog, “it IS funny to hear them squealing.  It’s as if they think we CARE!”

A Mother’s Love (Creepy Pasta!)

I always knew my mother loved me.

When I was small, she would always give me the best cuts of meat, and watch me eat, smiling, over her bread and butter.

When I was bigger, she would give me money to take my friends out for dinner and drinks, and herself sit alone in the dark, afraid to turn the lights on for fear of not being able to pay the bill.

You should always appreciate the sacrifices your parents make for you.  Especially if you have a mother who says that she loves you more than life itself.

So when I was fully grown, I invited my mother on a road trip, to see the glass towers of the big city, sunset over the ocean, the endless forest and timeless hills.

Unfortunately, we became lost.  It has been three weeks now since we left the path to follow a green-gold lizard to its hiding place.  Three weeks since we circled back, and back again, and called out into the olive-grey wilderness.  Three weeks since we have seen anyone but each other, and yet, her love for me is strong as ever.

“I’m only afraid,” she says, smiling weakly, “that I’ll die soon, and then you’ll be alone, with no one to look after you.”

“Don’t die,” I implore her. “I need you.”

Fresh.

When at last they come, with their whistles and stretchers and fluoro jackets, my mother’s eyes turn to me.

“Take care of my little boy.”

The paramedic holds out his hand to her, but she can’t respond.  She has no hands.  Gagging, he lifts the chewed, limbless trunk on to a stretcher.

I am as well as could be expected, although I don’t know how I’ll get along without my mother.  She always said she would lay down her life for me,  Now she has laid it.

I wonder if I will ever be able to find a woman to replace such devotion.  I think I owe it to myself to try.