Tuesday, 21 February 2017

SUSPENSE STORY

                                      "MAMA'S LITTLE BAKERY"



Man shadow on brick wall“Mama” as she was known by everybody, was popular for her moist cakes and crunchy mouth melting cookies. Her tiny little bakery was extremely famous in the small sunshine town far away from the hustle and bustle of the city that seemed to be propelling forward with full gusto these days.
Mama was a middle-aged small lady who mostly liked dressing in ankle length dresses with big floral prints on them; the pink one was her favorite. Her hair had almost completely turned white with few strands of black, a reminder of the youth that she had once lived. She always carried a white small purse decorated with pearls into which went the money she received from hungry little naughty kids. This was rarely the case as Mama loved placing her best tasting cookies in those tiny little palms. She was an absolute hit among all the kids in the neighborhood.
The day was bright with the smell of fresh ground coffee tickling the taste buds of people who had stepped to enjoy the warmth of the sun. Mama was especially cheery that day with happiness writ large on her face. Her only son was coming to visit her over the weekend. It had been long since she had seen David and he had finally found time in his busy schedule to visit her.
Mama got busy in cleaning the house, decorating it with fresh flowers and stacking up photographs of David all around the house. She was planning to bake his favorite lychee cheese cake and got into making her grocery list. Mama was slightly tired at the end of a busy day and by the time she started supper, she had completely forgotten about the hourly power shutdown that happened every night.
She got up from her chair trying to look around for the emergency light. After tumbling here and there, her fingers finally found the switch of the emergency light and turned it on. She walked back to her small dining table and placed the light on the sill of the glass window that overlooked the now dark and lonely alleys of the small town.
As she started eating, she felt a slight movement from the corner of her eye. She looked up peering into the window holding the light close to her face. She saw a woman in the house right opposite to hers,  the woman seemed to be in pain, she was crying out to someone. All of a sudden, the woman’s hand clasped over a big shiny kitchen knife, Mama shouting at the top of her voice started running as fast as her legs could carry her.
Once out, the light in the opposite house had vanished. She was standing alone in the chilly cold winter night with shivering hands and beads of perspiration on her forehead. Once safely in her house, Mama decided to inform the police. She called up the local police station and gave the address of the opposite house along with the details of what she had seen to Officer Mark. He assured her that he would come over the next day to check.
The next day, Mama was back in business as usual. With one more day for David’s arrival, she went shopping and got eggs, flour, sugar, cream, and specially handpicked the lychees. When Mama returned back to her bakery, her neighbor told her that Officer Mark had turned up and had asked her to convey his assurance to Mama as there had been no causalities and everything was absolutely fine.
Mama was scared to look out of the window when the scheduled power shut down happened that day. She did not want to see that woman’s anguish. It gave Mama the chills. But the confidence given by Officer Mark made her look again.  As expected, the same event repeated itself. Mama was terrified out of her wits and was determined not to go out this time. She decided to sleep over it with the plan of bringing the police over to her house the next day during the power shutdown to make them see what she was experiencing.
The following day, as Mama got ready to go to the police station, she received a phone call from David that he would be coming that day instead of the weekend. Mama felt better now as David would be there that night with her and dropped the idea of going to the police.
She prepared all his favorite dishes; the cake was out from the oven for cooling after which she would dress it with cream and lychees. She closed the bakery earlier than usual, got dressed in her favorite pink dress and waited.  The clock struck 7; Mama wished David would hurry home before the power shutdown.
As Mama waited, the usual fear of seeing the lady started creeping into her, how she wished she had gone to the police. No matter how much she tried averting her eyes from the window, curiosity made her look, a part of Mama wanted to help that woman. Today, the lady was crying loudly with a photo pressed hard against her chest. As Mama looked on, she started feeling dizzy, she was out of breath, and her heart was palpitating faster with every second. Mama lost her balance and dropped to the ground. The pink floral dress drenched in blood from the stab she had given herself using the big shiny kitchen knife. The lychee cake lay smashed across the picture of her young son David.
Next morning, the entire town came to mourn the death of sweet little Mama. They all blessed her peace as she was placed in a beautiful coffin and gently made to lie next to the grave of her son.
__END__
                                                                                             SOURCE BY-SHARMILA RAO
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM

FAMILY STORY

                                                "A GUILT...SET FREE"




2015
brother-sister-dry-leavesShe looked out of the window. A dark blanket of clouds had engulfed the city. It would begin to rain soon, she thought. But she always loved the rain. As the droplets poured down the grey sky and splashed into puddles, she went on a detour down the memory lane. Playing in the first rains, the fragrance of the soil, little paper boats in the puddles…it was always refreshing. A faint smile rose on her lips. For the somber 25-year-old, this was a rarity. ‘What is taking Neil so long?’ she thought. She’d been waiting for him for over an hour.
As she looked out, she could see the Statue Of Liberty, holding her head high wielding against the strong wind currents. She admired her strength. A storm was coming. The rains brought lightning and thunder. The sultry weather made her miss home. ‘Home is where the heart is’, they say! She closed her eyes. She could see her house. She could smell the subtle fragrance from the rose garden. She could see him… Unable to bear it, she flashed her eyes open!
—-
Life was never easy for Mia. She was the first born to her parents, who couldn’t look each other in the eye. Constant fights and bickering in the house suffocated her. Her father used to be a successful cardiologist. A bad decision and demise of a patient on his operation table had shattered him, reducing him to a depressed alcoholic. Her mother worked as a receptionist in a lawyers’ firm. An alcoholic husband, rising bills and 2 young children had made a once beautiful and chirpy woman, cranky and at times, violent.
Mia would have run away from home but for her little brother, Jack. His contagious laughter, the way he wrinkled his nose when he smiled, the twinkle in his eyes when he was up to some mischief, all made Mia’s troubles less painful. Jack was not her brother, but her baby. They were 12 years apart in age. She woke him up in the morning, fed him breakfast, and got him ready for school. In the evening, she bathed him, fed him dinner and told him a story of a prince before putting him to bed. Her time with Jack was her only solace. Her time of peace.
Jack loved rains.

June 2005: A Rainy Day 
“C’mon Mia, faster”, shouted Jack. Their father was asleep with a hangover and their mother had gone to work. Mia, as usual, was babysitting her brother that rainy day. As Mia hurried to finish her last of the paper boats, Jack was already out of the door.
“Wait! Don’t run”, she yelled as she quickly put on her raincoat and dashed out of the door. Holding Jack, she took him to the park next to her house. There were a lot of kids playing in the water. Jack was excited! He couldn’t wait. As they reached the park, he took his paper boats and placed them one by one in the puddles. His infectious, excited screams made Mia smile. ‘What would I do without you’ she thought. The light of her day, her little brother!
“Is that your brother?” Mia turned. A well dressed, good looking boy was standing near her. ‘He’s so cute’, Mia thought. ‘Who is he? Why is he talking to me?’… a series of questions cluttered her mind. “Excuse me? Is the little chap your brother?” Mia’s thoughts were interrupted and she realized that she had been staring at the cute boy without answering his questions.
“Yes, he is” she replied softly.
“I am Neil, I am new to this neighborhood. Can I play with you?”
“Yes, of course. Why not. We’d love it”, Mia blushed. Neil smiled as he bent over to play with Jack and his boats.
Jack loved his new company. They instantly got along. As days passed, the three were inseparable. Weeks turned into months and their friendship thickened. The sufferings and emotional squabbles at home affected Mia a lot less since Neil had entered their lives. They were of the same age. He was a good student. They studied together. He wanted to be a Banker and work for Wall Street, he always said.

August 3rd, 2007: The Fateful Day 
Jack had just turned 5 on August 1. Her parents had forgotten his birthday, as usual. But Neil got him his favorite ‘Spiderman’ cap. Mia had baked him a special chocolate cake and got him an “I LOVE YOU BRO” bracelet, which Jack flaunted to all his friends.
Jack was very happy that day when he walked home from school wearing his new cap.
As they reached the park that evening, Mia noticed the dense envelope of clouds. She was feeling restless as if something was just about to happen. What did she know…
Neil walked into the park with a thick packet. His eyes were twinkling. Mia could feel his euphoria. “What’s up?” she quietly asked. With a quick look at Jack, who was busy with his bicycle, Neil bent over and softly kissed her on her lips. “I got into NYU”, he whispered, handing her the NYU admit papers. He was smiling ear to ear.
For Mia, it was as if the sky had fallen. Her mind was suddenly chaotic. ‘What about us’, she wanted to ask him. ‘How will I live without you’, ‘Long distance is not easy’, ‘Please don’t go’… She never realized when the tears welled up her eyes.
Sensing her emotion, Neil slowly took her close, giving her a tight hug. “We’ll be OK. It’s only 4 years. As soon as I get a job, I’ll take you with me” he murmured. She could hear his heartbeats. Neil was her first love. She could not imagine the thought of being away from him. She just closed her eyes, to feel his presence, to feel his hug… to forget that they were soon to part…
A big scream broke their trance. As they moved away from each other, they noticed Jack was missing. Mia was aghast. They looked all over, but Jack had disappeared. As they ran towards the sound of the screams, they saw people huddled over. As Mia made way through the crowd, she froze! She saw a familiar blue and red bicycle. The helmet looked familiar too. Just as she moved an inch closer, she choked. All she could remember before she fainted was the sight of a broken “I LOVE YOU BRO” bracelet
2015
Mia turned as she heard the door open. Neil walked in. He had the doctor’s reports with him. His face told her that he had some good news with him. He had been more loving and pampering ever since the doctors had confirmed her pregnancy. He walked towards her and gave her a bear hug. She could see his eyes were glistening. “He’s back”, Neil whispered.
Mia moved back, confused. She raised her eye brows ‘Who’, she thought.
“Jack!”
Mia stiffened. She was angry, hurt. The pain and guilt of her brother’s accident had never healed. The thought of Neil joking about it was unbearable. She pushed him away and walked towards the window.
“Mia, we’re going to have a boy”, Neil exclaimed showing the ultrasound reports. Mia closed her eyes. Neil quickly grasped her as she fell in his arms. 
‘My baby is back’… 
For the first time, Mia cried… she wailed… For once, she was set free!
__END__
                                                                                                             
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM

SUSPENSE STORY

                                      "SOME MAGIC"




circles-colorfulThe water was inviting. The noise still echoed in his ears; no, they were still arguing.
He shut his ears and focused on the patter of the rain and tried to ignore all that was happening. He wondered what made it pour so heavily.
Maybe the sky was laughing too hard.
He remembered the time his mother tickled him to the extent that tears started to pour and soon the fun turned to pain, which the mother didn’t realize.
The thought of paper boats and splashy puddles bubbled up more excitement in him. His little body began to shake like the fizz in a soft drink bottle. A smile lit his face. His breath fogged the glass; he was yearning too much. Too much, too hard.
The door was right there, staring at him, tempting him to break free of the bonds that held him in his solitary room.
Mother will be mad.
But the desire was a little too strong. He took his steps and advanced to the hall. The door was only a step or two away. Exhilaration palpitated his senses and the uncertainty of the adventure awaited him. The moment had come.
A door opened.
“No more. I promise,” the boy’s father said to his wife who was weeping.
He held her and she shook him off. The boy watched as his mother went to the table, took a glass of water and then put her head down to cry a little more. He looked at his father; he was sulking, still near the bedroom door. He went to his wife and sat next to her.
“No more. No more. This is the last time,” he said and held her hand. She looked at him with the fear of another lie. She was hurt; she had lost her trust, so she cannot put it in him anymore. Yet, she faked a smile and then looked at the mess they had created. She lowered her head and took a deep breath. They talked with their eyes, as if sensing the presence of their child. They looked at each other and kept looking still.
The boy was so lost in this silent talk that he had forgotten what he was to do, but remembered before long. He could hear the falling of the rain sing to him; he had to be there. He clenched his palms into tiny fists and tightened his chest with a strong breath of determination.
The couple was still at the table, talking not in words. His mother rose and walked into the child’s room. She groped away through the crayons on the table and the toys on the bed. Tears streamed down her face and the husband seeing this, let out another annoyed sigh. He stood next to her and gently stroked her hair; trying to calm her down.
In all these moments, no one spoke.
The boy’s mother looked at him and all the thoughts of a rainy undertaking were beginning to dissolve. She only looked and stayed silent.
The phone rang. The father pointed at it; signalling that he had to leave. She looked at him and he replied the glance. She nodded and he went towards the door. He walked right past his son, not even bothering to say goodbye.
As the door opened, the boy could hear the rain from across the hall; it had started to rain harder. The idea of a day in the waters of joy re-emerged. He clinched his teeth in a bid to suppress the delight. The father had left the door ajar which meant he still had the chance for an escapade.
He finally mustered up the courage and held the seemingly huge wooden door and pulled it open. Just as he aimed at a step, a voice called to him.
“Stop! Where do you think you’re going?”
He turned around to see his mother walking towards him with her arms on her waist. She gave him a look and his face turned morose. He grimaced and the day was over.
Attempt failed.
The previous night, he had a dream of a rather strange nature. He was in his bed, surrounded by water in a roofless room. He could see a cloud floating above him, letting it rain on everything but him. The more he tried to reach out to it, the further the cloud escaped. He concluded that to feel the dreamy rain, he had to experience the one that teemed outside. He looked about to see his mother sitting silently and reading. She suddenly arose and left the apartment to the boy.
Providence?
He stood in amazement and glee and had only one thing in mind- the failed attempt. Without wasting another minute, he wore his shoes and bolted to the door. The hallway was deserted. He looked out the huge window near the apartment door and saw the road below being washed down by the rain. He smiled. He drew close to the elevator door. Being just a boy of eight, he was rather afraid to use it. He barely went out of his house and that left him uneducated on the topics of everyday life.
After a few more moments of perplexity, he ran down the stairs. The placement of stairs in the apartment was very strange. The stairs of a floor began at one end and to reach the floor below, the route was on the other end.
Stupid architecture.
He made it to the floor below his apartment. He was walking to the stairs when his path was cut short by a hoarse bark of a dog. He stopped still in his tracks and turned to find a grown dog staring at him with big black eyes and growling. The boy’s limbs began to tremble and shake and he started to think that it was a bad idea to sneak out of the apartment for a secret adventure.
“Down, boy!”
A command came from an open door. An old lady, about eighty years of age, called the dog back into its rightful place, next to her. The dog paused a moment and then returned to its possessor.
The boy was retracing his steps back to his apartment when the lady asked for him.
“Come in, boy,” she called with a jubilant smile and a weak voice.
He shook his head; the woman pressed on.
“Come in. Don’t let the dog scare you,” she repeated.
“Mother said not to talk to strangers,” the boy said.
The lady chuckled and then said, “It’s alright. Your mother and I are friends. You see, I live right below your house so that makes us neighbors in some sense.”
The boy began to wonder what it could be. He stood there in confusion without anything to say.
Suddenly, he heard the elevator on his floor make a sound.
“Mother!” he uttered and ran back, leaving the old lady without a reply.
He ran back up the stairs he had descended and sneaked back into the house without a sound. The mother was in her room, not making much noise either.
Close call.
The boy was back in his room, sitting in disdain.
This was not supposed to end this way.
He felt bad for the old woman who he left behind. He didn’t feel much scared as the lady was quite serene looking- her wrinkles made it look as if she was always smiling. In addition to that, the smell coming from her apartment was very inviting. It smelled of cinnamon and coffee.
After another day, the rain was still inexperienced and the dreams still vague.
A week had passed since the previous try. The mother was in her room and hadn’t made a sound in hours.
She’s is probably in deep sleep.
The boy tip-toed his way to the door and stood there for a while. He slowly opened the door and slipped out. The premier notion for the day’s outing was not to reach out for the rain but to deliver apologies to the old lady at the floor below.
He knocked on the door he was at a week ago and waited for an answer. The door opened to the old lady and a smile on her wrinkled face.
“Boy!” She exclaimed and welcomed him in.
“I’m sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to run away like that,” said the boy while the lady returned from the kitchen with a slice of cake and some cookies.
“Oh, it’s alright, dear,” she said and relaxed on her armchair. “Aren’t you the boy from the top floor?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am,” he replied as he relished the confections brought to him by the woman.
They both sat silent for the first few minutes but then got to talking. The lady narrated stories that she had been telling her grandchildren and said that she was “happy to say them over and over again.” The boy just sat beside her, listening faithfully and was joyous that he had finally someone else in his life.
She said that there was no noise of a child’s laughter in the whole apartment building. The boy was astonished at this fact, for he knew children lived in the same building as him; having played a number of times with them.
Maybe she’s just too old. Her hearing must be weak.
It was late when the boy realized that he had forgotten to go out. He was not much bothered but a disruption in the talk reminded him of time. He said his goodbyes and walked out in the hallway to hear an ongoing commotion occurring on his floor. He could hear a lot of dull screaming and it was not long before he realized that it were the voices of his parents.
He ran up the stairs as fast as he could to see many people dressed in white, waiting outside the door. He walked past them and into the apartment. There were three people inside- the mother, the father and a man dressed in white. He stood by his mother as she ignored him and refused to even look at him. He remained there crying while the man in white took his mother away, sided by his father who was repeatedly apologizing. Throughout this incident, no one looked at him. Everyone appeared a little too busy to condole a child.
The door slammed on his face and he heard the noise travel from the hallway to the elevators and then to the floor below. Soon, the boy was alone in his still apartment. He was there confused and hurt and completely lost.
The door opened suddenly and the father appeared. He was crying.
“Daddy? Daddy?” he cried to the man. He stayed silent while the boy continued, “What has happened?”
He did not utter a word and made his way to the bedroom. The boy followed him till the door was shut, yet again.
Too hurt to do anything, he retired to his bed and cried himself to sleep.
The episode that took place was still fresh and still perplexed in the boy’s mind. And to add to the pain of it all, he received the news that the old lady from the floor below had died. She passed away in her sleep.
He was left all alone- with an absent father and a missing mother. All he could do was choose to either break the dream or try and pursue it. The rain was still a tempting escape to all the melancholy of an empty life. It seemed to be the only thing that was worth trying for.
He made his way to the hallway, and then down the stairs. Just as he was passing by the old lady’s door, he heard the dog bark at him. The dog looked just the same- with a wagging tail and a drooling tongue. He was being nudged by the dog to enter the lady’s house. He was hesitating when a voice shook him to the core.
It was the old lady who had just died. She stood there, awaiting the arrival of the boy at her doorstep. The boy rubbed his eyes, trying to understand the situation.
How is that possible? I heard she had passed away. This has got to be some kind of a joke; if it is, then it isn’t funny.
“How are you here? Are you real?” the boy asked, standing a good distance away.
“Yes, I’m here. Real or unreal, you can decide,” she replied, her arms outstretched for an embrace.
“How can I see you? You’re dead!” he boy yelled and the lady smiled.
“Yes, I am dead. So are you.”
The boy’s knees went weak; he trembled with fear and felt faint with confusion. Her words had dropped him into the pit of perplexity and doubt. He never believed that it was possible to see ghosts.
“You’re lying,” he uttered, completely aghast.
“No, I am not. You are a ghost that is why you can see me,” she replied calmly.
“But my mother can see me; she is not dead. And the children of the building know me.”
“Yes, your mother is not dead but she is institutionalized. She can see you because she is delusional. Some people have that power. And the children, they are dead too. They’ve been dead for years.”
The boy broke down with tiredness and dread. The woman came to comfort him and took him inside. Everything seemed to come clear now. The people in white were people from the asylum and he finally understood why his father never spoke to him- because he was never there. He was a ghost, dead and cold.
The lady told the boy that he had died of leukaemia about six months ago and his mother claimed that she could still see him. The father had no other choice but to commit her. Life, or after-life rather, came out clear to him.
So, what now? The boy thought to himself. There was nothing he could quite do or understand. But he had one thing he knew awaited him.
The rain was yet to subside. And there was nothing that stood between the boy and the joys of rain. He walked down the stairs to the entrance of the building and stepped out.
The first step into the rain felt refreshing and like the sequence of a long-cherished dream. The sensation of the drops on the fingertips, the smell of it all, the different color of everything and the heaven-like touch on the forehead- all felt right.
Finally, the dream would be lucid.
He smiled to himself, trying to live a life he knew he could never have.
__END__
                                                                                                                    
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM

SHORT STORY

                                   "THE MOTHERLAND"




Fire Flame BurningIt was 6 years from this day. It was a dark saturday morning, I woke up earlier than usual; I had just gotten out of my bed and was slowly heading down to the lower floor. I was sitting on my old, stained couch watching our rotten television, it only had 4 working channels. All of a sudden, I hear cries! Cries of desperation, I think they were coming through the thin walls from the room next to mine. In that room, we had the TV from our motherland, there was a sticker on the side of a hammer and sickle.
Usually, my family would have a meeting in their and watch news of the homeland, taking notice of the destruction they left behind. The screams filled me with curiosity, so I came over and saw bright lights on the TV. The motherland was attacked; blood, pain and family ghosts angry at my family for leaving them behind to be bombed. I turned to see the tears running down my mother and grandmother’s faces, they frantically grabbed phones and called who remained in the motherland, hoping for even the slightest sign of love remaining in the already torn family.
My father, a member of the mafia, had sorrowfully informed me of what happened. Fudic, a small village in Eastern Europe that was previously home to peace and compassion for one’s neighbor, is now nothing; it was destroyed as if a heartless man was only wishing for all the world to be gone and burnt. My family and I remained full of terror, but happy for our own well being because we left the war-torn motherland.
Eventually, a sense of peace and calmness melted over us. Curiosity stayed in the back of our heads for the following week; we then learned the truth. It was Noc Rojdu, the leader of the nation, the one we loved and worshipped as common man that can keep us level in the world. He was testing missiles for the military, he wanted to expand and declare supremacy over the world. His decision for testing was to drop them on his own people; his own children. He is still leader; through corruption and fear of his children. I learned that day, sometimes the people you love and admire are just as fu*ked up as the rest of us.
__END__
                                                                                                   SOURCE BY-JAKEOWEN
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM

FUNNY STORY

                                         "THE EMPEROR OF SOAP"




Image result for IMAGE OF FLOWER WITH DROPLETS OF WATEREddie tended to drift into whatever jobs were available that would pay the rent. And so it wasn’t unusual for him to drop into the Second Wife in strange attires, at strange times and carrying the strangest stories with him. And me, a struggling writer for your humble local daily, was always glad to have a drink of the landlord’s best with him.
It was on a Monday evening, just when Roman had opened for the night, that Eddie came in. He was dressed in his everyday trousers and carrying a big sack with him.
I waited till we were both seated and he’d had his two glasses.
‘What kind of person would you call a fool, dear boy?’ asked Eddie.
‘Well, I personally believe it’s the ones who go around buying those fancy new talking-things, those telephones. Those things are bound to-’
Eddie waves me off. ‘I’ll tell you which ones are the biggest fools,’ he says ‘It’s the ones who go searching for buried treasure. The ones that find a map, and go all cuckoo ‘coz it has tiny little letters and marks that prove it is all authenti-thingy and then they jump off on ships and go on finding lost treasure!’
‘Well, sure, Eddie, them too, but I tell you, it’s been not twenty years since that fellow has come up with them and people are all-’
‘So last month I met this feller down at the station, and being as how the rent were rising and my money was all tied up in them barrels and stocks…So this guy comes up to me, and asks me if I was Eddie Wikkums.’
‘“I am,” I says, “And who’s asking?”’
‘“A very good evening to you, Mr. Wikkums,” says this fellow. “My name is Toby Anton. Can I interest you in a drink?”’
‘And seeing as how that drink and I always been best buddies, I say yes to Messer Toby, and we steps into this cute little place down the corner.
‘“Mr.Wikkums, I have heard a lot about you. Mostly about how you’re such an industrious fellow, and a competent worker.”’
‘“Yes, that’s me, lover of the industry, sure. Say, tell you what, you’re a pretty complete feller yourself too,” I says.’
‘“Thank you, Mr. Wikkums,” says he. “Your words are kind. But that’s not why I wanted to meet you today, as you must be wondering by now.
‘“Well, actually, words of your experience in handling unusual jobs have reached my employer’s ears. My employer has an…Unusual mission, shall we say? He has an unusual mission to fulfil, and he would be very grateful if you would lend him a hand with your expertise.”’
‘Well, you know me, dear boy. What with the rent rising as it is, and the jobs hard to come by like they are, I weren’t going to say no to a job, was I?

‘So I says yes to Messer Tobee, and he whistles up his big automobeel, and off we go to meet the brain running them boots, so to say.
‘The car stops in front of these big iron gates, and we are in this big house. The plate at the door says “J.P.Radomer” and I says to myself, this ‘ere’s one big fish.’
‘You don’t mean to say you went to Jeremy Radomer’s house?! Not the Jeremy Radomer, founder of the Soap&Soaps, and philanthropist multi-millionaire?!’
‘Aye, aye, that very feller! Messer Tobee takes me to this here sitting room, and it’s full of pictures of the bloke standing holding huge keys, cutting ribbons, and all dressed up and holding up trophies and whatnot. One shelf’s full of all these huge books, half of them in letters I can’t even spell. And while I’m sitting there gaping, in he comes, the Soap Emperor His Majesty himself.’
“‘Aah, Mr. Wikkums! So our mutual friend managed to convince you, did he?,” he says to me.
‘“Well, personally speaking, I didn’t need much convincing now, Messer Radomer, what with rents being the way they are. But he didn’t tell me what it’s all about, now.”
‘The man hands me a glass of some sparkly stuff. I’m really beginning to like this job now.
‘“You see, Mr. Wikkums,” he says “I’m a businessman by trade, but I’m also a traveller. And in my travels I meet many men and women…And see a lot of places. And now, I’ll tell you a story of a certain lady I met on my travels.
‘“I was going to Pasadena by train on one of my trips, when I see seated across me the prettiest lady I’ve ever seen. Oh, but the moon would wane in comparison to the beauty of that face! She smiles at me, and we strike up a conversation. And by the end of that trip, when we both get off at Pasadena, we agree to meet for tea the next day.
‘“The next day, when I get to the Café la Hex this pretty lady, whose name is Elizabeth May Bruner is waiting for me. And it is then that she tells me she’s an archaeologist, searching for a lost Egyptian treasure. She hands me her map, and shows me how she means to find it. She tells me of how she has been searching for that statuette for so many years.
‘“And it is right then that I decide to find the Egyptian treasure for her! I tell myself, I shan’t rest until I’ve found it. We part that day, and she hands me her gloves…How I wish I’d not parted from her that day!
‘“And so now it is that after exactly eight months, I sit with you, Mr. Wikkums, with all my affairs sorted out, and my soapbox packed in my suitcase, and this map in my hand, seeking adventure, and the heart of the prettiest lady I’ve ever seen!”‘

‘Well now, dear boy, ye’ve known this old boy for years now, and you know how I’ve never said no to a man lost in love. So I has a look at this ‘ere map that the Soap Emperor has got lain out in front of him, and I’ll be bless’d if I can make any sense out of all those squigglin’ and scribblin’. But it must have made sense to His Majesty,  ‘coz the next thing I know, I’m standing in front of the station the next day with me bag on me back and me toothbrush in hand, waiting for His Majesty to get there.
‘Well, so he gets there with all his soaps bundled up and his sleeping bag rolled up, and that scrap of squiggles pinned to his shirt. We gets onto the train and off we are.
‘Now, mind you, I look at that map again, and all I see are a bunch of lines and whatnot. But His Majesty says there’s mountains in it, and there’s one mountain shaped like a pair o’ boots, and at the bottom of that there mountain, you find them buried Egyptian hullabaloo. Now, all I seen of what I seen, and all I known of what I known, what I thinks is this Bruner dame is playing His Majesty like a streeet bum plays a violin, but so long as I can hear the greens roll, and so long as I don’t have to do no funny stuff, I’m as mum as a dead log.
‘So I looks at the map again, and I agree to all he says. We gets down at this place, and all I can see are miles of stone and cactus and mosquito. But His Majesty says we are at the right place, and off he steps to have a chat with the station-master. Now, I say station-master, but it’s just this feller in a tin house. And then he comes out with the map in hand, and says we have to walk down to some house in the middle of the desert.
‘And so we walk down, and there’s this black feller waiting for us there with shovels and picks and jars of beans and knives and plates, and we get onto his cart and whinny the horse off.
‘We reach the mountains and set up camp. The Soap Emperor has a tent to himself, and the black feller sleeps with me. His Majesty shows him the map, and the feller shakes his head, and mumbles something and keeps shaking his head. But His Majesty just says the poor feller is too dumb to understand the hyroogliphs or sommat and he sends us to bed. Mind you, I think the dumb fellow got more sense than the Majesty and ten of his hyroogliphs put together, but I says nothing, and off I go to a quiet drink of some sparkly stuff I nicked from the station-master.

‘So we wake up next morn to look for them stone models. The Majesty sets us both off in directions and tells us Keats and Wordsworth will guide us in our quest. I asks him where them guys are, and why aren’t they down in the camp with us, but he laughs at me and points to his breast pocket and says they’re up there. Well, I tell you, dear boy, I got no idea what they’re doing up in his coat and I think he’s just spewing a load of mumbo but as long as I can hear the greens rolling, I can take all the mumbo he’s spewing at me.
‘So I walks off with the black feller and off we go, hooting and hollering to scare off them hyenas and mosquitoes, looking for a hill that looks like a footing accessory. We spend all day, and then some more, and other than getting bit, scratched, muddied up, chased off by angry mama rabbits and sun-burnt, we have nothing to show for it.
‘And again we go out next morn, with a load of  “Fortune favours the brave” and “Will creates a way for all” baloney spewing in our ears. Mind you, I’m getting a bit tired of hearing all about Will, Keats and Wordsworth knowing stuff and not telling us.
‘And we keep goin’ out every morn (on a darn Sunday too) and go on coming back to camp full of empty hands and mosquito bites and beetles joyriding on our pants. This goes for two weeks straight, before the black feller wakes up one morn and flat refuses to take another bite of the Will-and-Keats biscuit. His Majesty says for him to go on his way, and gives him off his beans, and I says to myself, Eddie, old boy, you need to get off this wagon too.

‘That day, Messer Radomer says for us to go out together. So we put out the fire, and head out down the valley. And all this time I’m thinking to myself how I is gonna get off the wagon, when suddenly His Majesty starts talking.
‘“Mister Wikkums, do you think we’re on a fool’s quest?”’
‘Now, when yer employer drops a bomb like that on yer, all you can do is say he must be a fool to think things like that, and remind him how Will is looking over us.
‘So I says that to him, and he gives me a sad smile and says, “Aah, Mr.Wikkums, you seek to not hurt my feelings. But you are only being polite…You understand, these thoughts have crossed my mind quite a few times in the past few days. But every time I think of giving up, her face dawns onto my memory, and I am reminded of my promise. Ah, Eliza, if only were you but so far away! It seems like only yesterday that you held my arm,and we talked so long and so beautifully of soap! Of love!
‘“Worry not, Mr. Wikkums, it seems our quest is soon to be at an end, and unless I find some vindication today, we shall board our homewards bound train tomorrow!”’
‘Well, news of that sort cheers me up, and I says to myself, that was easy.
‘Now, if this were a story I was telling you out of a book, that very day we’d ‘ave seen in the distance a hill that looked like a pair of boots, but it ain’t a story, and we didn’t see no boots nor no hills that looked like ’em. It were the same as any other day. So that night we packs everything up and I set up a big fire to show ’em mosquitoes I mean business and then come the morning, off we go.
‘I wait at the station while His Majesty converses with the tin-house master, and soon as I’ve nicked another bottle of the sparkly stuff off him, we get on a train and back we come to my own, dirty city.
‘His Majesty takes me to his house and says to me, “Mr. Wikkums, you’ve been a wonderful help to me. Even though I wish we could have enjoyed further success in our endeavour I stand firm in the belief that Fate will bring us together again for further adventures!”
‘“And now as a token of my gratitude, you shall have with you that which I hold closest to my heart,” and then he puts in me hams this ‘ere bag.
‘I thank him, and Messer Tobee sees me out of the house. I get out and I look inside the bag, certain for a big haul this time. And you know what I sees inside the bag,dear boy? His Majesty’s “most precious?”’
‘What did you see, Eddie?’ I ask him.
‘Well, why don’t yer take a look yourself,’ and with that, he empties the big bag that he’s carrying onto the table.

And out of the bag spills soaps. Varieties and different sizes and shapes, I spot lavender, jasmine, stone, rose and a mishmash of a hundred other flowers.
And I look up at Eddie and he looks back at me and says, ‘That’s why I tell you, dear boy. Those darn fools that go hunting for buried treasure are the biggest darn tooting fools of all.’

I return home that evening, and my wife kisses me and she smells so sweetly of lavender bloom.
I refrain from asking anything until we’re both in bed and lying down, and then as I’m turning off the lamp, I ask her.
‘Eliza, did you ever know a man named J.P Rodamer?’
‘Yes, darling…Isn’t he the man who makes all those soaps?’
‘Yes…Yes he is…And honey…Did you ever attend any archaeology lectures?’
And my wife turns around to look at me, and smelling so sweetly of lavender, she says to me, ‘You’ve done some pretty foolish things in your life, Austin. But one thing you did right was not try to sell me soap on a train, or go looking for Egyptian buried treasure. And that’s why, darling, tomorrow you are going to the office, and getting me a telephone connection.’
How sweet is the hand that turns the keys of Fate!
–END–
                                                                                            SOURCE BY-AUSTIN KOBYA
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM

SOCIAL STORY

                               "A TALK WITH THE SOUL"




Girl at beach during sunsetDeep down my memory lane, when I sit back and sigh and try hard to peep into my soul, I find a darkness wandering around like a vagrant; lost amidst the tenebrous shades of my life. The traces of my shadows make me afraid, afraid to sense their darkness, to unravel my emotions and bring out all my deeds. I feel scared at times to walk through the lonesome road, daunted to go deeper within me as the path remains silent and lonesome all the time.
Taking a few steps back, I question my soul ,”What is the mere existence of mine in this world?” And to the reply I hear nothing but just a deep fading silence. I wait for long in the silence, knocking at those shadows to find an answer to my life, but I hear nothing. Those ghastly things try to break me down and I feel weak.
The darkness pervades and it feels like an eon, everlasting throughout my life. My heart feels heavy to carry those shades alongside itself. And I shed a few tears as I reflect upon my shadows. I keep walking as the zephyrs of my soul flash over my eyes like an eternal darkness. They try harder to break me apart, but I remain still to ravel the truth.
The well of life appears really deep and dark and it takes a lot of my soul to bury deep into it. And with a lot of time passing by, I reach at its depth. It feels the same as it was in the beginning- dark and silent. I wait along for another while and then all of a sudden when I am up to break, a ray of light flashes along into my eyes.
It ambles all along eliminating the dawn like the rising sun and tints of my past, my memories run all over my mind. I see a white soul standing in front of me, illuminating its powerful aura over the dark vicinity. It walks forth towards me. Its charm epitomizes my life and heals my wounds and it talks with me, entangling my life.
It brings back every bitter moment from the past and at the same time makes me tougher and stronger for the future by condoling me and encouraging me. It shows me light and runs the lost happiness into my veins. It makes me self aware with its sparks.
It flashes the message into my ears like a solely whisper. It says “You might be a darkness, darker than the prevailing, to engulf everything or a light brighter enough to kill the darkness all over.” And then I smile as I get my answers and the white hand draws back into the deep well.
I close my eyes and come back and laugh. The solely talk that I had with my soul just healed me from every misery. And I get up moving into the reality, making better decisions, wiser enough to prevent the same mistakes that I made in the past. And this is the best experience that runs down my memory lane.
–END–
                                                                        SOURCE BY-SHUBHANKAR  GAIKWAD
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM

FAMILY STORY

  "HER LIFE IS NOW SAD SHE DID NOT KNOW HOW                                 TO BE AN ARTIST"



“We created a beautiful love story ,but did not know how to maintain it.We had to break up in order to understand that he was everything for me”.
Her life is now sad, she did not know how to be an artist
i-love-youPresuming,small,dreamy and elegant in her move-in such a way looked Adele in the 9th form,at the beginning of the scholar year. In that autumn there were coming more pupils  from the  neighbouring villages in their classroom because there were not medium schools where to learn. Adele was the head of the class and the form master authorized her to draw out the list of all newcomers. In such a way she got acquainted with Vlad, that person which few weeks later after the graduation of the school became her husband.
In that moment when she asked him how was his name and where he came from there was shining something that was moving their hearts in their eyes. Half a year they communicated through their looks, but at the beginning of spring when everything around said:love,Vlad mustered up his courage and wrote Adele his first love letter.
At the beginning of the 1980s, people did not know about internet and mobile phones. Lovers from schools wrote themselves letters which were handed over secretly to the addressee through a classmate.It was a discreet and delicate love. Then the meetings under the Moon took the place of letters. And a year later after the graduation of the school, while he was studying at the same college with her, Vlad asked for Adele’s hand. At the beginning her parents were against this marriage considering it too early.When they understood that Adele was already pregnant they gave them their blessing. Adele and Vlad had a beautiful wedding.
In such a way the younger got off on the right foot in their family life. After God gave light over their house and souls with two beautiful sons which came into the world after a year one by one, Adele continued her discontinued studies,having all the help of her husband and her mother-in-law. The last had a good behaviour towards her daughter-in-law, she took care of the children, taught her how to prepare the food and everything else.
I must tell you that our heroine had a difficult childhood. Her parents put her to do the most difficult work out-of-doors.From 5 years old until the 4th form she took care of the sheep. From the 4th form till the 10th form she stripped 16 cows at the farm for some small change,which she received at the end of the month. Arriving in the house of her mother-in-law she began  making her life more beautiful. In some years she built a house in all her beauty.She liked working and taking care of everything. In such a way her dream to have a house and a table, good children,a broad beautiful clever husband became reality.
Adele worked hard,with passion,she did almost all the work in her household. Many times Vlad came from the forest( he was forester) and told her:”Dear wife, let that work, you will find it tomorrow also. Come and lie down near me, tell me something beautiful…”.
But she,with worries and problems,being tired did not want to make love with him and tell him sweet words.But who does not know must know that the man like a child needs tenderness.
Vlad,being a beautiful man,found another woman. In fact she herself found him there,in the stillness of the forest.He was trying again strong feelings which he could not hide. Adele got acquainted with her even there,at the cabin,while her husband petted with her. She was shocked when she discovered that she was cheated. It looked so as if everything came to an end. She came home and cried on her mother-in-law’s shoulder who tried to calm her down. She was jealous. After two weeks she recovered her temper and decided to let everything to her children and went in her native village. The children were already big, had their own families. Vlad realized the situation and implored her to stay. But Adele considered that it will be better to go.
The breakup was difficult for everybody, at the same time for her mother-in-law. The children suffered and suffer at the moment.The truth is that after 23 years of living together they broke up amicably. They did not divorced,did not divide the property.They just chooses to live separately. Nine months Vlad and his mistress are living at the cabin.They have a child together. Adele is living in a small house which she has bought in her native village.They keep a friendly relationship in the beautiful memory of the years lived together.
After some years of separate life,Adele is convinced that the fault for the separation is of both of them:”We created a beautiful love story,but did not know how to maintain it.We had to break down in order to understand that he was everything for me.Today I regret that I did not know to be an artist in those moments.What if another woman took him from me?I should not be selfish. I should have forgive.Because I did not know how to keep him near me.”
–END–
                                                                                             SOURCE BY-VIORICA LAZAR
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM