MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “fiction”

Quarantine news

©Douglas M. MacIlroy

I had a visitor today! Wait, I’ll show you. I managed to take a photo”. She scrolled through her photo gallery on her phone, while her friend was patiently sipping his coffee on the other end of the line. He smiled at her through his screen as he saw her eyes light up with enthusiasm at the news.

It was their daily teleconference. Well, the morning one. Others would follow during the day.

It was the new quarantine routine. Some moan about it, while others do their best to show that distance doesn’t matter and it can’t keep us apart.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Here’s your chance

©Jeff Arnold

You’ve always wondered what you’d do if you had time and were at home”.

Well, here’s your chance”.

She opened the door. His home-office was rearranged so that his desk was right beneath the window looking into the back garden. There was an old typewriter strategically placed in the middle. He had told her of how the dream of becoming a writer began when he first saw his grandfather typing on one of these. But dreams always got delayed due to some other priority.

After all,” she added, “when Shakespeare was quarantined because of the plague, he wrote King Lear”.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

A tune that lasts forever

©J Hardy Carroll

She remembered it fondly. How she anticipated their first date. He had announced it to her with a paper plane that flew straight towards her. It was their way of communicating. She was walking on air all morning.

He took her to a diner that had just opened and was the talk of the town. The food was savoury. But that wasn’t what won her over; it was the song he chose on the jukebox and how he picked her up to dance rock n’ roll to what thereafter became their tune.

It was their time. And it became forever.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Spring lockdown

©Ceayr

It was the warmest day spring had brought so far, with cloudless skies and a light breeze, everything seemed to emit positive vibes.

But in reality, the city was in lockdown. Trying to fight a threat as serious as any war or even worse than anything it had been called to face during its history, the entire country was prompted to stay at home, to avoid contact as much as possible, and to keep clean and safe to avoid a deadly virus.

Twenty years in the 21st century, despite all our advancements, we’re teaching people how to wash their hands.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Why dance?

©MCD

So, why do you dance?

He had been asked many interview questions since his career gained an upward path, but this was by far the most intimate one. It reached right into his soul, past his life experiences, his childhood dreams and wishes, his ambitions and desires. It was the essence of who he was.

There are so many reasons why,” he began. The emotional charge was already apparent in his eyes and in the tone of his voice that suddenly became softer and quieter.

I dance because it makes me feel alive. Feeling my body in motion, makes me feel like I’m doing something right, that I’m allowed to experiment in every dimension with every part of my being. All a dancer needs to do is close his eyes and feel the music”.

I dance because I’m happy, or I’m sad, or I’m angry…I feel through dance. It’s my way of expression. But it is also of healing. I always feel better after I dance”.

I feel graceful and free when I dance,” he continued. “I feel my aura becoming lighter and brighter and this also helps me culturally and socially connect with others. I feel I am becoming a better person when I dance. And I like that version of me”.

Dancing is also a way to escape everything that is troubling your mind at the moment. It’s great therapy for the mind and it certainly keeps you active and fit. It is a fun way to exercise and offers many more benefits that are first apparent. All you need to do is try it for yourself and you’ll be convinced”.

The interviewer stared straight into his eyes. She had never received such an honest and long response before.

And, of course, she was now eager for her first dance lesson.  

We all become what we pretend to be

©Dale Rogerson

As a child, she loved pretending and wearing costumes. Her favourite drama teacher warned that “no one can wear a mask for very long”. She needed to learn to distinguish when she was playing a role, and when she was being herself.

It was a dangerous thing to wear a mask and a costume; “we all become what we pretend to be”.

They strange thing she realised while acting was that a single person can wear many masks. And with each, they’ll tell another truth.

Yet, she loved to act; simply by changing looks and attitude, she could be anyone.

A man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask and he will tell you the truth” – Oscar Wilde

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

It’ll do so, unrestrained

https://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/old-door-lebanese-village-man-background-79366804.jpg

There was a young man who each day sat at his doorstep gazing at passers-by as if waiting for something, for someone. He would spend the whole day there, anticipating; his eagerness and enthusiasm dimming with the last of the sun’s light. But each morning, he would be there again, repeating the process.

An old woman who would make the passage by his house each day on her road to the market noticed the young man and this pattern of his. She observed the brightness in his eyes at the start of the day and how it was darkened as the day faded. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was looking for, what he was expecting.

But the more she observed each passing day, the more she understood.

So one day, she stopped in front of his doorstep and stood right in front of him hiding the sun from his eyes.

There is no use waiting here at the door of your house, staring at the dead streets ahead. If it’ll come, it will do so without you knowing from where or how. It will approach you suddenly; it will find  you even from behind, softly closing your eyes that are so tired of road-watching. And when you ask who it is, you’ll understand by that skip in your heartbeat. There is no use waiting. If it’ll come, it will do so. Even if everything is wide shut, you’ll see it right in front of you, and it will be the first to embrace you with open arms. It won’t matter if you’re ready or well prepared or not. It won’t change a thing if you run after it or crawl at its feet. If it’ll come, it will do so. Otherwise it will just pass you by”.

The old lady paused, inhaled a deep breath allowing her words to sink into the boy, then turned around and left.

He stood there for a moment, petrified. And then, went inside and shut the door.

If it’ll come, love will find its way.

Inspired by a poem by Kostas Ouranis

Dance away

https://artsedge.kennedy-center.org/educators/lessons/grade-3-4/Telling_a_Story_Dance

The first time he stepped into a dance studio, he felt his heart flutter, as if it left his body and was hovering above him. He felt almost embarrassed walking in with all those potential dancers staring at him as the door clinked on his entry.

But he was determined.

Strong emotions can do that to a person.

Just a week ago, he had been dragged to a dance soirée by his sister and her friends. He had fallen in love with a dancer. But it was not with a specific one. He had been blown away by the movement; the story that was told through the song and dance. The feelings that were conveyed; the expressions on the dancers’ faces. He could feel everything so deeply just by looking at them. Being a part of their troupe must be amazing. That was the thought that had captured his mind that night. Being able to communicate in such way must be a great relief. Dancing would be an excellent way to relieve the pressure of everyday life.

So, here he was, trying to learn how to do that too.

The motto on the studio’s wall was “every problem has a solution, so dance!

A garden of surprise

©J Hardy Carroll

It was a strange place to go to get to know another person better. It was just their second encounter. Simon had promised a “surprise that would definitely be worth her time” if Harriet accepted to see him again. She blushed and accepted without thinking too much. Sometimes overthinking steals the joy of impulsive actions.

They spent almost the entire day at the botanical gardens. She had never been, but it was on her ‘to-do’ list. He had recently read about it.

It was there that they both discovered the importance of being blown away by someone’s mind and personality.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The story of a needle and a thread

https://previews.123rf.com/images/lineartestpilot/lineartestpilot1603/lineartestpilot160334785/53904168-freehand-textured-cartoon-needle-and-thread.jpg

Take this,” the Master presented his young Disciple with a thin piece of thread and a tiny needle.  The young one took it in reverence. He was terrified that if he dropped it he wouldn’t able to find it again.

The task is to pass the thread through the needle five consecutive times. Consecutive,” he stressed the last word.

The young boy gasped. Surely his Master wasn’t serious.

Consecutive?” he emphasised it too. “But that’s impossible”.

The Master said nothing. He turned around and left, leaving the boy to his task.

It took the Disciple ten times alone to simply pass the needle through the thread the first time.

He was already tired. That’s when the little devil inside him began to speak. His Master wouldn’t know if he hadn’t accomplished the task. Or if the five times were not consecutive.

But then that other voice appeared. The one his Master had infiltrated his mind with. “But you would know”.

The boy continued. He had managed three consecutive times. And then after what seemed like hours, four. But five seemed literally unachievable.

He stopped. Cleared his head for a minute and inhaled deeply. He looked across the horizon and experienced every sound and smell present around him.

Then he began again more determined than before.

And all of a sudden, he had done it. He himself couldn’t quite believe it. He yelled in excitement, so loudly his Master came almost running. He smiled at his Disciple.

What did this teach you?”’ There was always something to be learnt.

That nothing is impossible?” The young boy was hoping this was the right answer. His Master disliked that the boy was missing the point of the exercises by trying to find a “correct” answer without being certain of it.

What did you receive from it?

Irritation, anxiety, anger….but then determination, strong-will, and…patience. Patience, above all”.

The Master smiled. “Nothing is truly impossible. We just need the patience to discover it can be done”.

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