MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the category “Short Stories”

Green happiness

ronda-del-boccio

©Ronda Del Boccio

When Martha first moved into her own house, her parents brought her a plant. There were no flowers, just green leaves. They told her that plants were necessary in our lives and our homes not only for the oxygen they provide, but for the meanings they give to us.

Martha didn’t quite understand.

At first she didn’t really care for the plant. She left it at some corner of the house with sunlight and regular water.

But she quickly came to realise that the more she cared for the plant the more it bloomed. It became her friend and inspiration.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

 

 

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Broken time

©MCD_IMG_20180730_182431

©MCD

She wanted a walk on the beach. It was the only thing that could calm her storms. And lately her outbreaks were many. He couldn’t understand why. And she couldn’t explain it to him.

They walked hand in hand in silence, listening to the tranquil splash of the waves on the shore.

It had just rained and the clouds were beginning to disperse in the sky.

A few sailboats interrupted the endless smooth water surface.

A few ducks allowed themselves to drift by, along with a seagull who appeared tired of flying.

They sat down for a while by a wooden bench staring into the ocean.

There it was. A broken peer. As if abandoned to its fate. As if forgotten.

She gazed at it for minutes, wondering what stories it had to tell, how many lives had walked on it, in how many memories it featured.

And then… all those moments were simply gone.

Maybe it is true that nothing lasts forever. It is certainly painful. But that is also the reason why we need to make every moment count and everything we live in it beautiful.

The invisible rope

https://www.crissysmith.net/imadh/crissysmith/a-handfasting-is-an-old-pagan-custom-that-dates-back-to-the-time-of-the-ancient-celtics-it-was-a-celtic-marriage-ritual-where-two-people-declare-a-binding-hand-tying-ceremony-wedding-2-983-x-702.jpgThere is a story the elders of a native tribe used to tell the youth when couples were forced to separate often for days on expeditions outside the village in search for food and resources.

There is an invisible rope that binds two people once they fall in love. That rope keeps them together but not tied to one another. It is what joins them and draws them back to each other when they drift apart. But when one of them reacts and tugs at it as if in an attempt to cut it loose, the rope becomes thinner but it still remains there. It only disappears when both sides decide there is nothing there to keep fighting for. When their relationship has lost all the love, understanding and support it once had and once they stop caring for each other. Like everything in life, relationships are only as strong as you care for them, as the love you put into them, and as the effort you devote into keeping them alive. The point of the rope is to demonstrate the distance between two people is supposed to make their relationship stronger, because it shows them how much the other means to them, how much they fill each other’s lives and how much they want each to be on each other’s side. The rope is supposed to become stronger with the distance, otherwise it is not even worth it.

The way you say things

misunderstandingStephen was a known diplomat. He had spent his entire life studying and training to devote his life to being a professional envoy. He knew well that the way you say things could save a lot of anguish and misunderstanding. That is why words were just as important as the tone in which you utter them.

That is what he was trying to explain to his young nephew one sunny afternoon on the terrace. The little boy had asked why his aunt was upset again. She had told Stephen that he sounded “mean and angry” and “she had done nothing to deserve such behaviour”.

You know, 10% of quarrels are due to a disagreement and 90% due to a wrong tone of voice”, said Stephen. His nephew looked at him with wide eyes, wondering how the tone of one’s voice could cause so much trouble.

Diplomats learn from a young age how to be able to be discrete in any situation. In fact, we are the ones who are – as it is said – able to tell someone to go… somewhere bad in such a way that they look forward to the journey”. The young boy laughed, even though he wasn’t sure if he had understood everything correctly. But his uncle had a way of being so persuasive that you just couldn’t disagree.

The point, in every conversation you make, is to be calm, to maintain your temper and to simply say things in the most serene way possible. In that way, even if you insult someone, they’ll take it much lighter than if you yell some bad words at them”.

There is always a way to achieve your purpose. But losing your temper is not one of them”.

Jessica appeared at the door still moody. Stephen got up, wrapped his arms around her and whispered softly in her ear “forgive me, I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt”.

Jessica smiled and fell deeper into his arms.

Their young nephew laughed. His uncle was right. And he seemed an expert in this art.

Heatwave mood

dawn-in-montreal

©Dale Rogerson

When the heatwave arrived, any desire for outdoor activity disappeared. Michelle lay in bed, doors and windows closed to keep in the cool of the air condition. Her mood of the day was to do nothing. If possible, to not even get up.

The sky seemed cloudy. It was that hot and humid. The only place to be outside was at the beach, but the sea was miles away.

She stared out the window, half asleep, hoping something would pleasantly alter the laziness that had taken over her.

The silence was broken by a tingling sound. Repeated twice. A message.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

What is thrown your way

https://www.permacultureapprentice.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/cover.jpgEverything you experience is a lesson.

It was the first thing Joan saw when she walked through the halls of her new school. Her age was not even a double digit then. But she remembered everything clearly. The memories had imprinted in her mind just as everything she learnt there grew in her heart.

She was grateful for the life she had in that building. Not only of the things she learnt in theory and in practice, but also for the people she met there. Those that stigmatised her for their positive vibes but also for the heartbreak their meanness had caused. Everyone had a place and a reason.

And everything served to make her stronger, braver and more determined.

She matured and grew to a better person when it was time to leave.

She was different when she walked out of the halls. Not even recognising herself and who she had become, she was proud she had survived.

The scars only served to remind her of all that had come in her life and the fact that she had managed to overcome all the obstacles and challenges that tried to bring her down.

She was still here. And she was resolute in making her presence even more prominent in the future. No matter what lay ahead.

 

The corner of notes

music-room

©Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

It was a corner in the house that belonged to him alone. One in which all worries and concerns would evaporate, converted into notes and music. It was a corner that hosted all of his instruments, his closest friends, those that accompanied him since he was a child. It was to them that he would seek refuge, where he would turn when something went wrong, but also when he wanted to celebrate. They knew best how to express it all: every emotion, every heartbeat.

This was the corner where life gained a meaning. Where he would feel, above all, understood.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The fortune-teller’s prediction

venice-fatima

©Fatima Fakier

When you meet the one, you’ll see her in Venice”. It was a silly prompt from a fortune-teller at a fair when they were kids. They were not even teenagers then and not even thinking about love. Life was so much easier. Careless and stress-free. But then, both Michael and Lilly grew up. And they lost touch throughout the years. She went abroad to study and he was hired at a local company, working day and night. Life passed them by.

Until chance – or maybe karma – reunited them on a plane to Venice. It was time to fulfil the prediction.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

A peacock’s strut

meep-by-the-window

©Jean L. Hays

It was one of those days, when you look out of the window lost in your thoughts. A strange bird caught her attention. It reminded her of a saying her grandfather used to tell her: “be a peacock in a world full of blackbirds”. It was a prompt to refuse to be ordinary.

But in our world today, everyone believes they’re a peacock. Strutting along, gleaming and boasting of their supposed abilities and good looks. “Appearance is deceiving”, she pondered.

She looked closer at the bird. It seemed ordinary. “A peacock that rests on its feathers is just another turkey”.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Erasing a memory

https://image.shutterstock.com/image-photo/moscow-russia-july-05-2016-260nw-1059717869.jpgSarah woke up one morning remembering nothing. She had completely erased him from her life, as if he had never existed for her. She had wished so hard to forget him that, one day, she eventually did.

She recalled nothing. None of the romantic dates, the surprises, the laughter, the trips, the flowers, all the things they did together somehow never existed in her memory. It was a slate wiped blank. And together with it, so had all the heartbreak, the quarrels, the violent outbursts, the tears, they had all vanished.

She felt serene.

After all, how could something you did not remember affect you, let alone hurt you?

She decided to go for a walk in the park. Oblivious to the fact that it was right at that park lake where they first met.

Now, even if she saw him, he would mean nothing to her. He would simply be a stranger among the many strangers living their own lives around us.

Plus, what – really – were the odds that she would bump into him? Of all the hundreds, thousands of people we walk past every day?

She stopped to gaze at the small, delicately sculpted fountain in the middle of the lake. For some reason she was always mesmerised by it.

You know it was created by an unfortunate father after his daughter drowned in this lake chasing a duck? He let her out of his sight for a moment and that’s when it happened. Sometimes that’s all it really takes. A moment”.

The voice sounded oddly familiar. But she couldn’t recall from where.

That was his conversation-starter that time too. But Sarah didn’t remember that.

Neither did Todd.

He was standing next to her in a khaki trousers and salmon-coloured shirt loosely hanging over it. His smile radiated the sunshine. He winked at her and her heart fluttered.

But something was holding her back. As if telling her “no”. It was an inexplicable restraint.

She smiled shyly and walked away, saying nothing. She hoped he wouldn’t follow her.

She was searching for a prince. And he wasn’t it.

 

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