MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “fiction”

In search of treasures

http://www.treasure-hunt-ideas.co.uk/site/siteImages/bg.jpgSantiago was in search of a treasure. Like all people, he was trying to find his place in this world. He read a lot and tried to travel even more. He longed to find where he belonged and what his purpose was. He was certain he had something exceptional to do.

But not every treasure is silver and gold. It took him a while to realise it.

For after travelling for years alone through sun, rain and snow, in lands that where not so welcoming, meeting all sorts of persons and seeing things he never even dreamt of, all he finally looked forward to was returning home. To a home that would be surrounded by the person who had stolen his heart from the very first time they set eyes on each other. Because life has a strange way of sending us signs for things that should happen. Falling in love is one of the strongest ones. And if you’re strong enough to fight for it, you are bound to find something amazing.

Santiago acknowledged after years of searching that his treasure was not material things. It was the knowledge and experience he had accumulated during his travels. It was the way his mind opened up and his spirit liberated. It was the push he felt inside him to constantly evolve, to want to become better for himself and those around him. It was the urge to become the exceptional person he believed he could be.

Treasures are first and foremost located in our hearts. We just need to first open our minds and souls to realise it.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Exceptional

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Circle of light

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©Ted Strutz

She loved full moons. She believed they represented completeness. And that light they emanated in the darkness was truly a remarkable sight. Plus, they never seemed to be the same: they differed according to your location.

Ever since the start of their relationship, he had always tried to make those full moon nights special.

Even now, fifty years later, he would still try to surprise her. And she somehow always was impressed.

This night he had rented a yacht in the marina they used to go for walks.

A candlelight dinner, staring blissfully at another circle of light. Love revived.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The run on a Monday

http://combesetcretes.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/072282f3-6d65-4182-8ec1-8d9e63dad0a3.jpegLike most people, Isaac disliked Mondays. It wasn’t really because something dreadful happened on this day, but because he associated it with the fact that a new week full of responsibilities and duties began, taking him away from his loved one and forcing him to better manage his time. Often he failed to see that it was the start of a week where wonderful things were waiting to happen. Positive thinking is always a crucial factor.

This Monday, however, Isaac was also troubled by something else. He wanted to move things on with his girlfriend but the time just didn’t seem right, and lately she too appeared distant, as if something was holding her back. He just didn’t see what.

They were running partners. That’s how they first met; while trying to run away from their troubles, they ran into each other. And they became more than friends. Running was a hobby they did together. And they didn’t always have to talk while at it. That was the best part about their relationship. They were comfortable even in each other’s silence.

Alyssa, on her part, always found Mondays to be the start of a week when everything should be put into place. It was the day to organise everything, but by midday she often allowed herself to be overtaken by the melancholy of the season – whatever that was. Right now, it was the autumn blues.

Lately she had invested all of her energy and excitement into a race she and Isaac had participated in. But now it seemed that the wheel of emotions had once again turned and she felt somehow depressed, not really knowing why. It was the time when her thoughts muddled her mind, depriving her of sleep or even some hint of serenity.

She put on her running shoes and went out the door without thinking about it too much. She would just run. It didn’t matter where or for how long. All she needed was to feel better.

Lost in her thoughts she acknowledged she was upset. At a time of emergency a few days ago, Isaac did not turn to her first; but rather to some other friends and relatives. He preferred to give them access to his home, despite the fact that it was Alyssa who spent a lot of time there, sometimes even more than Isaac himself, and it was she who helped him with household chores when necessary. Yet, he bypassed her and thought nothing of it. To him it wasn’t as important as it was for her. She felt hurt. But how do you discuss a controversial matter without leading to a fight?

She began running faster, her heart now beating into her chest.

Her shoes ran over the fallen yellow-brown leaves, the crackling sound being the only thing that she could hear, apart from her very loud thoughts.

Suddenly she could feel someone behind her. He was running up to her, almost chasing her. She turned around without stopping and was surprised.

It was Isaac. He had found her, even though she never told him where she was. He smiled and caught on her tempo.

Perhaps it was a sign that he would finally open his eyes as much as he opened his lungs to breathe in more oxygen. That’s what she truly needed: for him to comprehend even the things she didn’t say. It was difficult, but in essence, the things we fail to do are not the ones that are impossible, but the ones for which we do not try hard enough.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Athletic

The sound of rain on a tin roof

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©J Hardy Carroll

Since they moved, they hadn’t been to their old neighbourhood. It had already been three years. They found themselves on their old street by chance, having taken a wrong turn.

It was still there, only seeming abandoned.

Their old studio. The one where they first met and became intimate. Where they shared their dreams and learnt about one another.

The one where they would crawl into each other’s arms to sleep on nights when their lullaby was the patter of rain on the tin roof.

Some sounds will always be associated to certain memories no matter how much time passes.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The monster under the bed

https://pre00.deviantart.net/96eb/th/pre/f/2013/150/0/1/the_monster_under_my_bed__by_jcmaziu-d5oebc3.jpgShe was there ever since he was born. Omnipresent in every aspect of his life. She allowed him to think he was autonomous and independent, but she was always just a step away.

She lurked in the shadows and clung onto him. But he failed to see it.

He may have matured in many ways but there was one thing he refused to see. His partner found her ever-presence over-bearing. But, the latter did not seem to care. And he didn’t seem to mind.

He couldn’t see the monster under the bed.

But it haunted his partner’s dreams and there was nothing she could do about it. Because it was not her battle to fight.

She tried to make him see, but every time he woke up, the monster had found a different hiding place.

He told her she was insane and imagining things. Because he refused to see what was before his eyes.

He insisted there was nothing of the sort. That the monsters were only in her thoughts. But she knew better. She saw it even when he was not there. Because the monster had a way of being everywhere some way or another.

When it became too much too tolerate, she gave up trying. And she just left. Leaving him alone with the monster under the bed.

She left him only a note that read, “There’s a difference between somebody who wants you and somebody who would do anything to keep you. Because, in essence, all you really want is someone who would put you first at all times, and who would make you feel important no matter who or how many others are in the room. If you truly love someone, you will never let them go no matter how hard the situation is. You try to work things out. And you fight to do so”.

It was up to him to choose to react.

If each day was our last

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©MCD

“What would you do if it was your last day on Earth?”

Psychologists often use the question to calm you down. To make you realise what is truly worth your attention and the degree of stress you devote to an issue. It helps you prioritise your problems and makes you see how small most of them are. Because we aren’t going to live forever. But we should make every minute of that existence count.

So what would he do if it was his last day? Alfie let his eyes gaze beyond the horizon as he pondered this life-existence question.

For starters, he would want to spend this last day – and most of his days actually – with the people he loved. He wanted to be happy. To leave, remembering what that feels like. That irreplaceable sentiment of feeling your heart full of love, laughter and happiness. Of feeling complete and of having everyone you want to spend your life with right next to you.

Then, he would like to go on a road trip; to drive through a forest, to feel the breeze whistling through the leaves, to take a deep breath and feel his lungs fill up with oxygen. To feel that you are inhaling life.

And he would want the day to end at the beach. To listen to the waves slowly caressing the golden sand. To watch as the sun set into the ocean, painting the sky shades of yellow, orange and red.

He would want to live his last day as fully as possible. With no regrets. Nothing that would alter or in any way affect a good mood.

“You know, Alfie,” said his psychologist with a wisdom grin on his face, “you can fill your life with days and moments such as these you described. All you have to do is pretend every day would be your last. And you’ll cherish every single minute of the time that is given to you”.

The shape of love

hearty-bread

©Kelvin M. Knight

“Do you know how the heart symbol came to be?”  Her grandfather saw her gazing mesmerized at the unexpected shape on the sliced bread.

“There’s the belief that this drawing we use to symbolize love and all its associates is in reality two human hearts fused together as one”.

She looked at him, her eyes suddenly sparkling.

“Is that the reason we are constantly searching for our other half? To feel whole?”

“It may very well be”, he replied.

His wife came into the room. It didn’t matter how old they were, he still beamed every time he saw her.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

A road to a different view

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©Danny Bowman

They told him the difficult, winding roads, the ones less travelled are the ones that would lead him to the most beautiful destinations. To places he had never seen before, never even imagined. He decided to take the risk because he wanted some peace of mind.

It was cloudy, perhaps even preparing for rain. And the gravel was rough; he could feel his car panting. But he was determined to go on.

He could see it up ahead. Tranquility was expecting him.

It was as if an entire mountain was waiting for his arrival to show him a different perspective.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The world in her eyes

https://i.pinimg.com/236x/6a/5b/1f/6a5b1f5af2932b3ae2d9af3ddb9034e4--contactlens-blue-eyes.jpgThe greatest love poems are written in dark nights of silver moons glistening on shattered adolescent hearts. Out of the strongest pain come the most genuine and powerful truths.

That’s what she was reading before she came to meet you. It was what made her tears start streaming again. She was trying. Trying to go on but not wanting to without you.

You could see it in her eyes, the pupils rippling like broken glass. She avoided looking at you because it hurt too much and she didn’t want to let you see the darkness that had overtaken her soul. She didn’t want you to see that, when you left, you drained her of the life you had imbued her with. Yet, she still loved you. She wanted to tell you how much she missed you. You know you felt the same. But for some reason you were both too selfish to admit to what you truly felt.

She had vowed to herself she would melt that wall of ice you had raised around you. She was certain you were meant to be together. You had been through so much. Everyone expected you would end up together. Forever. That’s the way it should go. Instead, while everyone was taking steps forwards, you were making them backwards. Out of miscommunications and bad judgements.

She wanted the world and, in her eyes, that was you.

She still wants that. She may no longer think of you as the super-hero she pictured you would be, but she still hopes deep down you are the tramp-turned-prince she dreams of. She still wants you. But you’re too stubborn to let her in. You know that she fits so perfectly like no other in your arms. In your mind. And in your heart. Every second you let pass without telling her that you’re not thinking of her or lying that it is not true, you plunge the dagger deeper inside. Because she has realised that it is those that can cause you the greatest happiness that ultimately will cause your deepest pain.

High bars

https://www.metalmulisha.com/2016/05/26/matt-buyten-trains-moto-x-step/

©Chris Tedesco

She stepped out of the train and slowly walked up to the escalator. For some reason she didn’t really want to rush like she always did. The thoughts had flooded her mind. Scenarios that may never be fulfilled. Wouldn’t it be great, she thought, if he was already there, waiting for her? But that wouldn’t happen. She already dismissed it from her mind. She walked out hurriedly heading towards the traffic lights, crossed the street, lost in her thoughts. And then she heard someone talking to her, a familiar voice that said “Honey, I’m calling you, but you won’t listen”. She turned and there he was, smiling as if nothing had been broken. He was there, waiting for her.

Now she was expecting the door to open and see him walking in. She turned her head every time a sound was heard, her heart beating faster. But it was always some stranger. Then the time came, the bells rang and she had to leave.

He didn’t come. And reality hit her hard.

Because things like that only happen in movies, not in real life.

The problem with setting the bar too high is that the higher up it is, the more it hurts when it falls.

It happens in an instance. Like the tremours of a violent earthquake during a vicious storm devastating everything in its passage.

As with everything in life, we all have expectations of how things will turn out to be. We dream and hope that it will all be realised in that idyllic way we have formulated in our head.

But they don’t always. Hardly ever. Rarely so.

Our expectations become illusions. Unfulfilled dreams of what could have been.

They say things happen for a reason. But you never truly get to find out what the reason is. You are only granted a glimpse of it when it no longer matters.

And your love becomes hate, but deep down it’s actually sorrow of time lost spent not being happy.

You end up disappointed when you realise that people don’t do for you what you do for them. Not everyone has the same heart as yours.

We set the bars high because we want people to prove us wrong, that there can be those who care enough to try harder and persist. We raise our expectations in the hope of finding the people who will intensify their performance to meet them, who will do what best they can to make them a reality.  In the end, you shouldn’t be sorry for having high standards; people who really want to be in your life will rise up to meet them.

“The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short, but in setting our aim too low and achieving our mark” – Michelangelo Buonarroti

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