Safura M Bhapavit had believed that the secret of eternal life had lain in discovering a relationship between religion and science. He had scoured his native India, from tropical south to mountainous north, in search of evidence that would lead him to the human being who most closely represented God, or Buddha, or however one choose to express it. The longing for this eternal life, Safura argued, must have its roots in the tangible and the real, despite centuries of confusion and myth.
He found Jane as he getting out of a taxi at Heathrow Airport, ready for the next...
I came upon the stone after walking my whole life. When I reached it, I was surprised at how big it was. I looked up at this giant head of stone and it looked down at me and spoke.
"Why did you come here." the stone asked.
"To change you."
The stone laughed at me. "I have been here since you've known how to know. The earth has fallen away and yet I rise up. I am fundamental. How is it that you intend to change me."
I held up my hand. In my hand was a piece of sandpaper....
I don't know when I stopped believing in unicorns and rainbows. But I know I was a kid. A very troubled kid. Life wasn't as easy as it should have been for a child. Everything was bigger and scarier. Especially the things and the people that were supposed to make me feel safe and protected.
Home wasn't safe. I thought it was. I thought we were the Cleavers. My parents were perfect. My mother worked hard. She kept a beautiful home and prepared perfect meals. She kept her kids in line and made sure we were all just right before...
The library was dark, lights shutting off behind me but I continued to thumb through the book. They had lamps on the desks, the kind with telescopic arms so that you could adjust the height. I'd pushed the bulb close to the pages so it left half of the images in shadow, a charcoal mystery for the eyes. I slid the page beneath the warm glass to uncover the next page. Illuminated- a dog sitting on the wooden cap of a fence, his face towards the sea. The rest of the picture was hidden in black shadow, the dog was...
Peasants.
We all are peasants.
I am a peasant, endlessly tilling the vast land of my master. I have a perpetual inclination to become a slave for lack of education.
Still, I am not ashamed of what I am. My legacy, which I have inherited from my forefathers, will go on for posterity's sake. My sons and daughters will continue to till land. But I guarantee that the land would be theirs to cultivate, for I am about to storm the walls of my master.
May God have mercy on his soul!
He could not even translate it. It was what one might call a specific knowledge, the fact that he did not understand this particular currency conversion did not mean he was not smart it just meant that he well did not understand it.
Still he felt anxious.
Hot
Clammy
He walked around the building, reading the strip of paper again and again. It was a a large number it could be something, life changing, probably not. Probably just another day. Someone had something wrong, something lost in translation.
He straightened his collar and opened the door.
Ready to deal.
"Skipper! Where are you, dammit?"
Op.8. Op.8.
"Wretched dog! You've only got so much time!"
Locate Rory. Locate. Locating. Locating.
"Where are you?" Another voice chimes in. "I want my paper. It's early in the morning. They told us you were an obedient creature."
Rory found, chasing butterflies on the south lawn. Come closer. Closer.
The little girl shouts, "Skipp-er! Skipp-er!"
Skipper barks, and Rory calls back. Safety is across the bridge, across the broken-windowed fairy house and shattered pond, but the voices are coming and Skipper has no idea how to stop them.
"I want my newspaper! Come over...
"I know you're up there," she screamed against the roar of waves crashing on the rocks. "And I know you can hear me. We have to talk, please come down."
A tugboat groaned out in the bay, and the gulls squawked overhead.
"It's bright enough today, you don't need to be up there.Please come down."
The wind whistled.
"Fine. Be that way. Make me stand down here and yell. I don't care. Actually, this is the perfect metaphor for our relationship. Me down here trying to talk to you and you boarded up in your useless tower. You think you...
"If life were only that easy."
The boy stood up and began his usual every day routine. He reached for his old and torn up sweat pants and applied them to his lower body with ease. He then walked over to his closet and yanked out the first t-shirt that he felt, moving it towards his face.
"It smells, but eh, it is Exodus!"
He put the musty shirt on and made his way into the kitchen. His sister, as usual, was making what he considered the greatest French Toast in the world. He knew that this claim was most...
I had a best friend. He was almost exactly the same as me, except he was... different. He followed me around almost everywhere I went. I only ever saw him during the day, and when it was cloudy, he almost never showed up. He never spoke a word, he kept quiet. I sometimes wondered what was going on in that wide head of his. He is the only person that understands me, that's why I called him my best friend.
It only took me 6 years to realise, he was my shadow.