MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “short story”

Seven of a kind

https://study.com/cimages/multimages/16/duck3.jpgThere were four of them. And in the next months, they became seven. Four yellow and three black. All they had was each other.

They followed each other blindly. Trust was no issue. It never was. That was what family was about. Trusting the other blindly. Unconditionally. Without question.

Sometimes they would split into small groups. Two-three there and another couple a little further away.

They would always find something to do.

And they would always come back together.

United.

Looking out for each other.

They were a family.

Seven ducklings.

Fluffy, cute and lively.

IF only we were all like them.

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Escape boots

dadsshoesWhenever I wanted to get away…to escape from it all…from the mundane routine that was choking me, or bringing me down, I would put on these boots and go”. His voice was sore, as though it was suppressing all the pain he felt and from which he desired to flee from. The boots were a gift from a German friend. One with whom he would often go wandering in the mountains. It was the only way he could find some peace, some spiritual relaxation.

But now… If I could only remember where I left them”, he uttered almost in despair.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

White Lies

https://www.veracode.com/sites/default/files/styles/blog_post_resize_960/public/developer-vs-hacker.jpg?itok=rJjgPnyn“I don’t understand what I’m always doing wrong”, Jack told his psychiatrist as he made himself comfortable on the couch. “Well, let’s analyse it together then”. “You see, that’s what she always wants too. To analyse everything”. “So why don’t you? What do you have to lose anyway? Isn’t that what you come here for? What difference does it make that you talk to me instead of her? Your partner in life? That I tell you I’m a professional and you pay me to talk to me? She can do it for free”. “Yes, but I’m not obliged to tell her everything and she demands all her questions to be answered all the time”. “You’re looking at it wrong. ‘Obliged’ is not a word to be used in a healthy relationship. You’re supposed to want to tell her everything, to share things with her. That’s the point of having someone to walk with you in life. That you know all about each other no matter how insignificant that thing is. To the other, that ‘insignificant’ thing may be of great value. Think about this: when you ask a question – to anyone – don’t you expect that question to be answered? Don’t you want an answer? It is the same with every person in your life no matter the relationship you have with them”.

“But these bursts of explosion, they’re unnerving. I can’t stand them anymore”, Jack puffed. The shrink smiled and doodled something on his notepad.

“Instead of angering yourself so much over these ‘explosions’ as you describe them, wouldn’t it be better if you consider what it is that causes them?”

Jack prepared to say something beginning with a “but..”, but his psychiatrist quickly interrupted to continue: “Like Newton’s Third Law of Physics states: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. If these explosions are someone’s reaction, have you ever properly considered what your actions are?

Jack sunk deeper into the couch. Silent.

“Think about all the things you do that you consider so normal. Think about the things that she – or anyone else really – do and that annoy you or have caused your eruption. How would you react if it was the other way round? If it was you who acted the way she or another person acted? Would you accept such a behaviour? You can’t simply expect to play the game only by your rules and customise everything else to suit your own needs. In life, we need to pay attention to everyone else too. To put ourselves in the other’s shoes and try to imagine how we would feel if we were on that other side”.

Jack seemed perplexed. The psychiatrist was not sure he was following his trail of thought. “I’ll give you an example: we live in times when unemployment is so high, youth in their 30s still live at home. How are they supposed to make a future for themselves, a family of their own in this situation? Would you be OK if you were with someone who was still living with their parents, or was living with you for a few days/weeks/ however long and still had all their things at their parents’ house? How would that seem to you? Would you accept it?”

Jack’s face became pale. He seemed to be understanding. “And what about the things you blow off, or cancel because of jealousy or rage? How can you then demand that the other acts in a different way, simply because you think you deserve a lighter treatment for the same ‘crime’? You want all your questions to be answered instantly but also want to decide on which questions you will provide answers to, even tailoring them to your own vision of what should be the truth”.

“But that’s because I want to avoid problems and don’t want to hurt anybody”. Jack’s response caused an ironic smirk to form on the shrink’s face. “Lying to avoid pain – these ‘white lies’ that don’t mean anything as everyone thinks, are the ones that often hurt the most. Because to be honest: a lie is still a lie. In whatever form. And a white lie simply demonstrates that you are undermining the other’s intelligence and capacity to comprehend the truth. Try being honest for a change and see how different and calmer everything will be”.

Jack was beginning to understand. The psychiatrist seemed serene, determined to make him see that it is not always one side that is right. Every coin has two sides, but it is only until you turn and see the other that you truly understand the value of both sides. “You receive from the world what you give to the world. Just because you are used to things being done in a certain way doesn’t mean that this is the correct one. You’re supposed to leave your mind open to change to assimilating new things, constantly. That’s how we grow, how we mature, how we improve”.

Life in full speed

https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSCwsxz9lk0sa_BySWGKBRObwy312pHFAJb1D3pqfgJb4v9EkOBShe felt her hand slowly slip from his grip. It was that feeling you get when you see in your sleep that you’re falling and you jitter, often kicking the person sleeping next to you.

But this time it all happened so rapidly.

She fell into a thick mattress of bushes, treetops whose brunches scathed her bare skin. The scratches began to bleed and all of a sudden, she was running barefoot in a jungle, too scared to look back at what was chasing her with full speed.

She tried to scream, but there was no voice to come out of her. Her lungs hurt. She could feel the pain in her chest mounting. And it was so hot. So unbearably hot.

She was now walking, her muscles sore from the running.

She was panting. She didn’t know where she was going or why all this was happening, but her adrenaline levels were still high.

Back in reality, she was lying in a hospital bed, with two doctors over her head trying to get her to wake up from the coma she had fallen into after the car accident. Her husband was the one driving and the one who – free of heavy injuries – had tried to grab her hand to pull her out of the flaming vehicle.

Also part of Daily Prompt: Rapid

The dried-up creek

k-rawson

©Karen Rawson

It was an autumn morning without a cloud in the sky. It had been days since they had raised their gaze to so much blue. Today they were celebrating. It didn’t really matter what; there is always something to rejoice each day. So they decided to do something different. Life is only worth it if you take risks and believe you can succeed.

After what seemed like endless turns, they reached a forgotten stairwell that led to the remnants of a creek. It was muddy and dull.

This used to be a park. It was where I first saw you”.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Altering an unreal vision

http://www.weatherbook.com/images/6_14_04_web.jpgIt was one of those mornings when it was neither hot nor cold; it was just cloudy and dull. Like her mood that day. The humid heat made it all somewhat insufferable, even stifling.

Zoe woke up nervous. It was the type of agitation that appeared after not being able to sleep well all night, with too many thoughts swivelling through her mind and a temper she couldn’t really explain.

She had dreamt that her big dance performance had arrived, the one that would make or break her career; the one that would get her into the professional dance school she had her heart set on since she was a child. But just as she was about to make that finally leap, sure to astonish everyone, her ankle turned and she had to conclude the show with grinding teeth and a pain that left her in stitches. It was almost impossible not to reveal how much it hurt.

Zoe woke in the middle of the night in sweat and an inexplicable pain in her stomach. It all felt so real. The passion, the agony, the anguish, the sting, the heartbreak, the utter discomfort of it all.

She took hold of her years-old teddy bear and, with the naivety of a child, tried to go back to sleep. But it was no longer possible.

Dawn came but the emotions had remained. How do you alter a nightmare?

She spent all day watching movies on her couch. It was an effort to change her mood. But that didn’t work either. It only happened when he came along. When Ted rang the doorbell and greeted her with a smile, a rose, a cookie and – what she needed most – a warm, tight hug.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Astonish

Mountain views

mt-lemmon-with-tree

©Jan Wayne Fields

He loved breath-taking views. He could get lost in them for hours. Just sitting there relaxed, letting his mind wander over the horizon. It was always as if he was flying. This must be sort of what it feels like.

And in such a “flight”, he met her. A person who would suffer if she sat still for too long. But at that very moment she needed the tranquillity. That sense of escape from everything and everyone. And at that mountain top she found it.

Together with the person who would lift her up as high as he possibly could.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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

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

dales-symphony-2

©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

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