Pursuit of Happiness
There was a man whose memories of happy moments could be counted on one hand. Food always tasted strangely to him; even his mother’s milk had been slightly off. As a child, he saw nothing pleasant in nature, full as it was of bumblebees, honking geese, and the heartbreaking loneliness of buzzing cicadas. Childish play was a daily exercise in humiliation, intimidation, and defeat. There was something under his bed. His parents loved him, no doubt, but his father frightened him and his mother carried a small tumbler from which she sipped; and as each day wound its uncertain way to...
Read MoreThe Broken Cross, Part 2
2 Early June during my high school years was a time between things. I was not a child now; I was not an adult. No more high school, no more Sunday School until after Labor Day. What would I do in my free time? At fifteen, I was too old to ride my bicycle around town and too young for a New Jersey driving learner’s permit. I was also jobless but expected to “chip in around the house and yard,” as my mother and father expressed it. “Keep those leg and arm muscles strong for football try-outs,” Dad urged me one Saturday morning and pointed to the yard rake and push...
Read MoreMy Maturing Experience
When I first saw Amrit, she was sixteen. I was dazzled by her beauty. It was evident to me that God Brahma was in a relaxed, cheerful mood and had spent a long time to make such a perfect specimen. She was the only child of the Thati Village chief, and her parents adored her. She was tall and slim with light brown skin and large brown eyes which could charm a cobra in two seconds. When she sang hymns at the temple, the birds stopped chirping, flies and mosquitoes ended their buzzing, and the congregation froze in their seats. I was in the congregation. I was spellbound, and the hot weather...
Read MoreThe Weakest Witch
We see a room with wooden floor and walls. The furniture consists of a table, two chairs, a writing desk and wooden chest. The remains of a meal — a pewter flagon, a plate with some crusts and cheese rinds on it and a folded napkin — lie on the table. To one side, a window lets in the evening light, but due to the poor quality of the glass and small size of the lead-edged panes, little detail of what lies outside can be seen. On the writing desk is a black cube the size of a child”s clenched first. A hand comes into view and places this incongruous item in a small wooden...
Read MorePower Failure
“So, where should we meet?” Dan Roberts asked over the telephone. “It’s supposed to be a public place the first time, although that seems silly. We’ve been e-mailing, talking on the phone, instant messaging and trading photos for a month now.” Gloria Redmond laughed. “So we’ll follow protocol. How about the Dresden Mall? Seems about midway between us. Do you know Ye Olde Coffee Shoppe?” “On the lower level? North end?” “That’s the one,” Gloria replied. “Sure,...
Read MoreThe Rescue
It was impossible to outdo Melinda Fireeyes. When it came to doing good, she was the nonpareil. She had sponsored a child in a third-world country. She spent her weekends the denizen of a soup kitchen, passing out meals to the homeless. She worked for a small nonprofit in Washington, D. C., that devoted itself to the preservation and protection of the environment. In her younger days, though she was not old, she had worked in Vista. She attended marches and rallies for various good causes on a regular basis. And that was only the beginning. Harry Greengrass was at a loss as to how to get her...
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