MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the category “Short Stories”

A song of fireworks

https://www.google.gr/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwizvPi4ubzaAhVMaxQKHdjwBo4QjRx6BAgAEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fpatch.com%2Fflorida%2Fbradenton%2Fbradenton-4th-july-fireworks-what-you-need-know&psig=AOvVaw3ixqnT-W0OrX-FZC8nmnm2&ust=1523887461934014He was waiting for the fireworks. For a week now, it was all he could think about. She was excited too, but she had many other things on her mind that were consuming her attention. She relished the fact that he was so thrilled. Sometimes all it takes is someone else’s smile to make you smile even wider.

That night there was a fair, accompanied with the grandiose of a market, stalls, candy, street food, a Ferris wheel, lights, dance, songs and, of course, at the end of the night, fireworks. That splendid display of low explosive pyrotechnic devices that always make people stare at the sky with awe and amazement.

Tonight he had something special planned though.

As soon as the fireworks ended, he had arranged with the local DJ for her favourite song to play. As soon as she heard it, she turned at once towards his direction, her eyes now wide and bright, glistening in the night. He stretched his hand to clasp hers and drew her into an opening. And there he led her into her favourite dance. She was amazed. He had learned all the moves she enjoyed and managed to surprise her in a way she never expected.

For her, the fireworks came later. And that was all that mattered.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Song

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Mystery Eggs

https://www.preparedpantryblog.com/the-best-way-to-color-easter-eggs/It appeared suddenly when he was a child. Ever since he could remember, it was present. Every Easter Sunday, it would leave two Easter eggs by his bed, resulting in that he would always awake with enthusiasm that morning and a smile that rejuvenated his entire existence. As he got older, he tried to uncover who the Easter Bunny – or maybe Duck, or whatever other animal it may have been – was. But it was not easy. It wasn’t his parents. Nor his grandparents. So who was it? No matter how much he stalked and staked out or tried to stay awake, he would fail in finding out who the mystery Easter-deliver came from.

It was an exhilarating and at the same time exciting tradition.

When it was his turn to become a parent, the eggs didn’t stop coming. They just switched destination and now appeared at his children’s bedsides.

He never found out who the source was; but he certainly cherished the fact that it revived in him a sense of gratitude and desire to do more for his fellow citizens who may not be as lucky as he. Easter, after all, was a time to cherish that we’re alive and to be grateful; to resurrect the life we hide inside and to gather the strength to carry on.

Never a time waste

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©Dale Rogerson

The speech had just ended and Sarah thought it was the most boring two hours of her life. Jonas had the same view. “What a time waste!” he was heard saying in the reception area, glass of wine in hand. Sarah’s eyes met his glance and he approached her. “Politicians never have something new to say, don’t you think?” he suggested as he handed her a topped-up wine glass.

She smiled, blushing at his communicative spirit, the ease with which he started a conversation with someone unknown.

Yes,” she finally agreed. “But perhaps the evening will now be more interesting”.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Season in bloom

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©Fatima Fakier Deria

Once the season changed, they would take the garden furniture out and set it in its usual place under the large oak tree. They would spend an entire morning washing the winter dust off; playfully splashing each other with the garden hose. Then, they would allow the sun’s rays to rejuvenate them with new life, ready for the new summer memories that were to be created.

Spring was their favourite time. It was when everything in bloom reminded them that even after a harsh and dark winter, it would always be warm and bright again. You just had to wait.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The Spring Swallow

https://fr.123rf.com/photo_71470708_premi%C3%A8re-hirondelle-assise-sur-une-branche-l%C3%A8ve-t%C3%B4t-printemps-premi%C3%A8res-fleurs-fleur-de-pommier-fleur-de-ceri.htmlWhen he opened the window that morning, he was greeted by a swallow speedily flying by. It was the first of this year’s spring and it was busily gathering material to build its nest. A new generation was coming. And for him, it was a sign that better days were near.

He woke her up with a kiss on the forehead and led her to the window. Eyes still half shut, she was excited to see the small bird. It was now sitting across their window on a wire, chirping happily.

The day began cloudy. It was not the sunny morning all meteorologists were talking about the day before.  But that didn’t ruin their mood.

They decided to go for a walk. Something carefree and unrushed. That was what weekends are for – to be able to decompress from the daily stress we all experience during the week.

Yet the day turned out to be an adventure. They discovered a rescue park for sea animals, something which fascinated them so much, they promised to return. And then, there was that small, cosy restaurant they went to, where everyone was – unexpectedly and contrary to the norm – friendly, kind and helpful. For the first day in a long while, they managed to enjoy their lunch and even made new acquaintances.

It is nice to feel loved, especially when it comes from the most unexpected and unlikely of sources. But what is even better, is when you discover those little gems of life in places you never thought to look.

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is though nothing is a miracle. The other as though everything is a miracle”.  – Albert Einstein

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Swallow

Capturing life

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©Ted Strutz

Her first photo camera was a birthday present received as she entered puberty. It was accompanied by a card that read, “go explore the world out there and show us what you see”. It soon became an item she would never leave the house without.

Soon, that camera was replaced by one more expensive and specialised. It again came as a present and the prompt “so that you capture the beauty of life and never let it go”.

Years later, her photographs are worth millions. Yet she is content with a tripod, a friend and a sky full of stars.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Believing in a dream

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©Sandra Crook

Close your eyes and hold on to my hand”. Her ballroom dress fluttering in the light evening breeze. She was prepared for a royal evening. That’s was what her prince had promised. They were middle-class working people; two youngsters who met thanks to a common hobby. Dancing was their passion and what brought them closer together.

She had told him many times of her desire to attend a royal ball, but she never believed it would happen so soon. He took her early, so she could enjoy the springtime in the gardens, together with a romantic walk across the lake.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

A raging bull with a lamb’s heart

https://www.google.gr/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=imgres&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjqlJzzqtPZAhVMKuwKHZyrA2YQjRx6BAgAEAY&url=https%3A%2F%2Ftoonclips.com%2Fdesign%2F10925&psig=AOvVaw1unLJm8h1WnBu1XCQwzaXn&ust=1520275790003619He entered the room like a raging bull, which was easy to do because he had the appearance of a bull. When he got angry though, he huffed and puffed and stomped his feet. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him. He was fearsome at sight.

But like many things, appearances deceive.

He had the ability to make a room messy in no time. To throw things around and even break a few objects as he passed. It was not his fault he was vast and space-consuming. Deep inside though he had the heart of a lamb. He was easily hurt, which was mostly caused because he trusted people too much. He mistakenly believed that others would do for him what he would do for them. He couldn’t understand that not everyone had the kind heart he had or even cared as much. When he felt broken or worse, enraged, he would turn into something not even he himself could recognise. And it took thrice as long for him to calm down afterwards.

He hated how messy he could become and how out-of-self. But he took a little pleasure in the fact that, according to various researches published at times, messy people are thought to be more intelligent than the average person. He believed it reflected the messiness of his brain – how so many things were clamped into such a small space. He acknowledged the literal bull character wasn’t good for anyone, but all he needed was some comforting words and the acknowledgement that he was not alone. Like every creature in this world, his heart too would soften when it received some tender, love and care. Maybe that too would somewhat organise his messy mind.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Messy

A shining star in a dim sky

https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GV1XqVMta2c/V9OWt2dc12I/AAAAAAAAE2k/FynYSq2JkNMytbviNilB41CD2JSBpt7JgCLcB/s1600/shining-star.jpgThere is a story an elderly monk used to tell his young novices:

“There was a star born one night in the darkness. Its light was dim and it could hardly be seen in the night sky. No-one really even knew it was there. It existed unnoticed. The star was upset and disappointed. It felt invisible. But as time passed it was growing in size. Disheartened as it was with life, its shine was still absent. A dim star is one that hardly exists. Other stars gathered beside it, bigger or smaller, they were certainly brighter. The star – that was no longer little – became even more upset. It was discouraged by the competition. One night it heard a little girl point to the sky and shout in amazement “look at all the bright lights!”. The star felt for the first time noticed. And for this,  it wanted to make its presence even more prominent. So it tried with all its heart to shine the brightest. And suddenly the entire sky lit up. The sky was hiding its glow within it; over the years it had gathered so much light but failed to find a way to transmit it. Or rather, a reason to do so. It’s difficult to be a shining star in a dim sky. But you should never allow the fear of glowing too brightly from dimming the shine you have within you. And knowing that you’re bright all alone. No need to be compared with anyone else.”

Also part of Daily Prompt: Dim

The snow of revelation

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©Dale Rogerson

It was the last days of the season when winter decided to really make its presence felt. It was snowing for three days in a row. Everyone was initially delighted. Until the problems started to reveal themselves. And with them everything else that had long remained hidden.

People got snowed-in and either took the opportunity to fall in love with one another again, or, at the opposite end, allowed their suppressed emotions to cause an irreparable strife.

Every moment we experience is like that. With good and bad. We are the ones who choose what to truly make of it.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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