Friday, August 15, 2014

The New School - Haidji - Short Story - Excerpt

see also    SG - Suicide Game - ebook and book   and  SG - Suicide Game - Video




My Short Story "The New School"  is available  for free to my subscribers.

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Excerpt

The New School



The news came like thunder over her, like a tempest, like an earthquake that shook her entire world.
Gaia felt like a volcano that was exploding and everything inside of her was coming out at one time, all pain and anger, like lava coming out of his body.  Exploding.
She needed all her self-control to not break everything inside of her bedroom, which was her ultimate refuge, her world. 
Inside of her:  pain, emptiness, and fear.
A new school, now? 
WHY?
She already made so many friends in her school.  It was hard work.  To make and keep friendship alive is hard work.  Gaia didn't want to start over.  She was happy with her world of friends.
Mom, Dad, why?
"We can not afford this school anymore."
The words kept going in circles inside of her mind.
"We cannot afford it... We cannot afford..."
Is in this world all about money?
Would she lose her friends because her family had less money now?
It seemed worse than to move to the Moon.
At least, moving to the Moon would be great news to tell to her friends.
It is something special. 
Moving to a new school, this seemed to be bad news to tell to someone.
Moving to a new school, this seemed to be the worst thing in the world, sometimes.
"Will the teachers be nice, or will they be monsters?
Will I make new friends?”
I will not go!  I will stay at home and never go to school again.
If I make friends only to lose them after, then I don't want to make new friends.
I don't want to go out of my bedroom."
Gaia stayed all day in her bedroom, going out only to run to the toilet and back.
Her mother left her lunch in front of her door, but she did not touch the food.
Her family tried to speak to her about it, but she did not want to speak.
She could not even think straight.  How could she speak? 
Her computer was off.  Her phone was in silent mode.




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Sunday, August 10, 2014

The Three Questions - Haidji - Short Story - Excerpt


see also    SG - Suicide Game - ebook and book   and  SG - Suicide Game - Video



"The Three Questions"  is available  for free to my subscribers.

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I hope that you enjoy reading my short story "The Three Questions"
and wish you a beautiful day!



Excerpt

The Three Questions



“Please answer these questions:


Question 1-

What do you think about, when you see yourself for the first time in the mirror in the morning?


Question 2-

What do you see when you look through your bedroom window?


Question 3-

What is the color of a candle flame?“



“What?” said John.

“Don’t ask, just answer.  I just want you to answer the questions,” said Constance.

“And what happens when I answer?”

“Nothing, I am curious; can you just answer?” said Constance.

“Ok…here are my answers.

Question 1-

When I see myself the first time in the mirror in the morning, I think about how beautiful my life is, and I think about all that I will make in my day.  I also think about the world, and the poor kids in Africa.

Question 2-

When I look through my bedroom window, I see the world.  The world that I want to conquer.

Question 3-

The candle flame:  it is yellow.”

An image appeared in front of Constance eyes, the image of smoke, and disappeared quickly.

“Can we go now, Constance?”
They were going, together with a group of friends, to the cinema.
It wasn’t a date, but it was more than the usual “just say hi” at the University’s breaks between classes.

Constance was quiet; they would not be friends for long.  She did not know what to say.  She was disappointed.  She liked John.  We will just be friends, she thought.

Constance was disappointed.
Oh well, she thought…the image of smoke again.

When Constance was 7 years old, her grandfather, who she called “Nonno” due to the Italian origin of her family, told her about the three magic questions.  Questions that would tell her more about someone, than the person him or herself could tell.
Questions that allowed her not to wait for their actions, to see how someone is.
Since then, Constance used to ask these three questions to many persons.  It was a way to know them better, to learn how they really are.

Nonno told her, one of the last times she saw him:
“Few friends will stay in your life.  Some friends are just passing by, through your life, and most of them are not really friends at all.  But all them will leave their marks, good and bad marks, and all of them will be part of your story.  I will not be here forever, Picolina, so you need to learn to take care of yourself.  So, never forget to ask The Three Magic questions.

The Answer to the first question will tell you if someone is a liar.
The answer to the second one will show you how the person sees the world.
The answer to the third one will tell you if the person sees the world in a conscious way.
Don’t expect persons to be perfect; no one is.  But knowing how persons are can help you to understand them.  Don’t expect them to be what they are not, accept them as they are, and, make sure to keep a healthy distance from people that could hurt you.”

Her grandfather died shortly after telling her the secret of the Three Questions.  There was no sickness, no accident; he was just old, like an old three that falls over the Earth when there are no more leaves on it to breathe.  No more life inside of it, to create new leaves.  Like that, he stopped to breathe.

And Constance, Constance was 7 years old when he died, and she missed him.  The Story Teller, The Magic Grandfather, the one that could tell her stories, about all and nothing.
Like seeds from a tree, shortly before falling, he gave her the questions.

Constance wasn’t expecting someone to give all the right answers.  But…?  Another liar, again?
Smoke images, shattered ones and sometimes, sometimes no images at all.  In her small group of friends, the answers were all different and they created different images inside of her mind.
No, Constance did not expect her friends to be perfect. Constance just wanted to know who they are.  Because life was sometimes hard, and persons, well persons never seem to be what they really are.  Or maybe, somewhere deep inside, she did expect a more solid image to appear with the answers.


Constance went to visit her Grandfather at the cemetery; she was 20 years old and had a bunch of wild flowers in her hands. Approaching his grave with respect, Constance left the flowers over his grave and asked:


“Nonno…I know that you are not here, but I don’t know where to go to speak to you.  I miss you, Nonno.  These questions, will there ever be someone that gives me the right answers?  Are there any right answers at all?”


                                                    
...

to read the full story for free today, subscribe my mailing list 


See My Other Books 








you can find  SG- Suicide Game and all my other books on 

and on many other bookstores





















if you're interested in one of my Paintings


please contact me


you can like my oficial facebook page





If you like to read more about my work, or be surprised sometimes with an unexpected short story, you can subscribe to my newsletter. You can unsubscribe at any time.
just click