catnip

Short story entitled "Raindrops and Roses"

2008-05-29T08:56:00.000-07:00

Patti was a beautiful child except for one flaw. Unlike her friends, she hated to go for walks and did her best to escape from playing any kind of outdoor games. Instead she preferred to stay indoors with her dolls and her stuffed toys. No amount of scolding by her mother could get Patti to play in the warm sunshine. “Pooh!,” she thought, “why should I ever want to play outside? The sun is too hot, the garden is teeming with horrid stinging insects, the playground is too dusty and the roads are too muddy !”

In spite of her flaw however, Patti did have one talent to her credit. She excelled at embroidery. In fact she had just completed embroidering a beautiful silk scarf for her grandmother’s birthday today. Patti loved grandma more than anyone else in the world. She smiled as she admired her handiwork. It was the perfect gift. Grandma would be so pleased. Patti scampered off to her room to fetch some ribbons and decorative paper with which to wrap her gift. But in her excitement, she left the scarf behind.

Suddenly the kitchen door opened with a crash. There in the entrance stood Patti’s little brother, a naughty boy with flaming red hair. A thousand mischievous thoughts passed through his impish mind as he spied the quaint silk scarf on the table.

When Patti returned , the distress she felt at the mysterious disappearance of the scarf was replaced by the horror of glancing out of the window to see her little brother wave the scarf about as he romped about in the garden. Then, to add to her misery, a sudden gust of wind tore the scarf from the boy’s hand and carried it along in the direction of the woods. “You silly little carrot top! Now look what you’ve done,” cried Patti as she rushed to rescue the scarf.

Poor Patti! She huffed and puffed after the scarf until completely exhausted she was compelled to rest by the foot of a large tree in the middle of the woods. Suddenly Patti began to feel very peaceful. For the first time in her life she realized how soothing nature could be and began to appreciate the beauty around her. She glanced up as heard the overhanging leaves rustle in the cool breeze. A bird suddenly broke into song. Patti thought it was the most beautiful music on earth. She watched a scampering red squirrel scurry up a tree and settle on a branch to munch an acorn. “Oh! What a darling little creature!” exclaimed Patti. She kept quite still as she noticed a little rabbit twitch his nose and whiskers as it watched her with curiosity. Then with a shake of its ears it disappeared into its cosy warren. Patti was delighted.

But in spite of her excitement, Patti could not help feeling disappointed as she realized that she had no present to give to grandma. Suddenly it began to rain. It was the gentlest of showers, with raindrops as fine as the dew which falls at dawn. Then, A flash of red caught Patti’s attention. She realized that it was cluster of wild roses and quickly gathered some into a bouquet before heading in the direction of Grandma’s cottage.
Grandma listened as Patti narrated the day’s events Grandma smiled and looked with silent admiration at the beauty of the roses on which a spray of tiny raindrops sparkled like diamonds on rich red velvet. Tears of joy rose in her eyes as she said, “Oh Patti! I could not have wished for a better present. Always remember that the most exquisite things are often the simplest. Ah! Raindrops and Roses – they truly are the most beautiful gifts of the skies and of the earth!”

Short story entitled "A Promise Kept"

2008-04-15T07:39:00.000-07:00

People could not help but take a second look as Heather Byrnes stepped down from the train onto the platform of her sleepy little hometown – Kyota Springs. Though simple, her attire was of an expensive cut and her shoes and suitcase were unmistakably Gucci and Prada. In short, she was an embodiment of wealth and class. She smiled as she spotted Danielle who had come to meet her at the station. The two friends then made their way to Danielle’s flat on the far side of town.

On the streets of Kyota, tongues were wagging. The townsfolk reacted to Heather’s arrival with mixed feelings. “I wish that we had known about her visit in advance. Then we could have arranged a grand homecoming for her,” said Mayor Simms.

“Oh, it’s so typical of you to waste the limited resources of this town on grand functions which we can least afford. Did it ever occur to you that maybe our Heather plans to make a financial contribution towards the welfare of the town? The community centre is badly in need of repair and Heather has such a generous nature,” said Mrs Watson.

“Nonsense! I’ll bet she is searching for a location to shoot a film. Can you imagine our town teeming with film stars and tourists? Kyota will finally be famous –just like Cannes!” exclaimed Jojo, the over imaginative movie buff.

There was no end to the gossip or the rumours that spread like wildfire. However, the most vital question remained unanswered. Why had Heather Byrnes returned to Kyota Springs?

The truth was that Heather had asked herself that very same question on the journey to Kyota and even she had been unable to provide a definite answer. It was a very long time since she had last visited her hometown. Her family had moved away to the city and most of her friends had done the same when beckoned by greener pastures. There was nothing left for her here. Was she was crazy for abandoning her affluent life in the city?

Heather’s thoughts flew back to the previous week when Danielle had visited her in the city. They had been the best of friends since their childhood days at Kyota. Though different as chalk from cheese, their differences always seemed to complement each other. When Heather’s family had moved to the city, they had maintained their friendship through constant correspondence. Heather was delighted to meet Danielle whom she had not seen for a long time. They had spent a pleasant day shopping, eating, talking, and laughing. In her usual genial manner, the adventurous Danielle had not missed an opportunity to scoff at her prim and proper friend, “Honestly Heather, you remind me of the character on that television show –‘Desperate Housewives’. I think her name was Brie or something like that. When was the last time that you did something wild, something fun?” Heather had then teased Danielle about her quirks and eccentricities. “Well,” quipped Danielle, “As long as one is truly happy, why should one bother about what people think?” Danielle had then invited Heather to visit her in Kyota before the two parted on friendly terms.

Heather returned home that evening but was unusually restless. It was a feeling that she could not get rid of and it increased as time passed. Danielle’s parting words echoed in her mind, “As long as one is happy.” Over the next couple of days, she became extremely irritable towards her family and was inattentive at work.

Initially she had resented and blamed Danielle whose words had turned her world upside down. However, her anger gradually subsided. She realized that it was easier to blame Danielle for her frustration than to face the fact that her life was in dire need of change and re-examination.

Heather finally plucked up the courage be true to herself and answer the question which had plagued her for the past week. “Am I truly happy?” she asked herself. In the view of the world, she lived the life that most people wished for in their dreams. She hobnobbed with the social elite, had a high profile job with a large salary, a rich and handsome husband, two beautiful children who had grown up and were successful in their own fields, a spacious house in a fashionable neighbourhood, expensive cars, and all the designer clothing and jewellery one could imagine.

However, something was missing from her life. She looked at herself in the mirror. In spite of her age, the woman who stared back at her was unusually attractive. Her hair was swept back into a neat chignon and her pleasant olive complexioned face was smooth without blemishes or wrinkles. Yet her eyes had lost that beautiful sparkle of vitality which had had always set her apart as an individual. It was as if her fun loving and passionate self had faded away behind a façade of respectable conventionality.

She desperately needed to escape from life and to break free from all convention. There would be consequences but for the first time Heather did something completely spontaneous and unthinkable. She decided to accept Danielle’s invitation to visit Kyota. Within an hour she had phoned her friend, packed her bags, scribbled a note to her husband on a post-it which she stuck on the refrigerator door and caught the nearest train to Kyota Springs.

After a short walk, they finally reached Danielle’s flat. Strangely, Heather felt more at home in this cosy eccentric interior furnished with a variety of drapes, pot-pourri and bric- a- brac than she had ever done in her tastefully decorated house in the city. Danielle made some tea and sandwiches while Heather unpacked her bags. Conversation between the two friends was genial and easy. At times, silence fell between them but it was a comfortable silence, which both appreciated. After they had finished eating, Heather helped Danielle to wash up the dishes.
The shrill ring of the telephone rudely shattered the peace in the room. Danielle picked up the phone and handed it to Heather, “Its Robert. He wants to speak to you.” Heather slowly reached for the phone.
Her husband’s voice was warm with concern, “How are you, Heather.”
“Ok, I guess. Just a bit tired,” replied Heather.
“Why the sudden trip to Kyota?” asked Robert.
“I wanted a break,” said Heather.
Robert was puzzled. “So when are you coming back?”
A tear ran down Heather’s cheek. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
Robert now sensed that there was something not quite right with his wife, “Heather, What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“No, I just need to sort out a few things, that’s all. I’m going to have to call you later. Heather and I are going out,” lied Heather as she hung up the phone.

Danielle stared at her friend in surprise. However, she respected her friend’s need for privacy so she refrained from asking questions or passing judgements. This was something that Heather needed to work out on her own. Sensing Heather’s growing restlessness, she suggested that her friend take a walk, “It will do you good to clear your head. Get that foul city air out of your lungs.”

Ten minutes later, Heather had exchanged her Gucci shoes for a pair of Danielle’s worn hiking boots and followed the rough hewn road as it wound and twisted its way this way and that. Her body protested against the exercise but Heather ignored the pain. After a while, she found herself heading toward a wooded tract of countryside. Hearing the gurgling of water, she realized that she was thirsty and followed the sound until she arrived at the Kyota Springs, which gave the town its name. The spring was shallow, hardly eight inches in depth but its water was cool and sweet to the taste. Heather drank greedily realizing for the first time in her life that the simplest things in life are often the most exquisite.

She glanced up as she heard the overhanging leaves rustle in the cool breeze. Memories of childhood flooded her mind. It was in these very same woods that Danielle and she had spent some of the happiest days of their lives playing games, chasing butterflies, hunting for tadpoles in the muddy puddles, listening to birdsongs and watching squirrels scamper on the trees. A wave of nostalgia made her wish that she could travel back in time to those golden hued moments when life was simple and the worries of the world were left far behind.

It was strange to think that somehow the dreams of wealth, fame and status that had seemed important fifteen years ago were quite meaningless now. Yes, her world was perfect – so perfect in fact that her face had grown to fit the masks of her own making. It was no surprise then that everyone had taken her for granted. She had let other people dictate the decisions she made to such an extent that she had lost track of what truly mattered to her in life as an individual.
Heather sat down on the soft green carpet of grass and dipped her hand in the spring as she had always done when she was troubled as a child. Overcome by the weight of her thoughts, she closed her eyes and relaxed as she let the cool water flow through her fingers. Slowly, she began to empty her mind of all thoughts and anxieties until she was completely unaware of the passage of time. When she finally opened her eyes, it was twilight. Heather felt strangely light-headed as if an enormous weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Rising slowly she plodded back to town. A line from a poem by Robert Frost played on her mind:
“The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”

“How ironic,” thought Heather, “I always hated poetry in school. I wish I knew back then how applicable it is to real life.” She did have promises to keep – but promises to herself instead of to other people. She was not the same person anymore. She would have to phone Robert when she reached back. She would inform him of her decision then. She had walked those difficult miles. It was finally time to sleep.

short story entitled "Hands"

2008-03-19T19:56:00.000-07:00

Hands

If you could see as I do, you would know what it is about the human hand which interests me. Hands! They come in different shapes and sizes– big hands and little hands, delicate artistic hands and stubby practical hands! But every pair of hands is unique. Each little line, spot and fold of skin has is own special significance. Palmistry is an extremely difficult and challenging art, even for experienced practitioners such as myself. It involves weaving together various isolated strands of meaning in order to unfold the secrets hidden in the rich tapestry of an individual life.

Each pair of hands tells its own story. Some are more interesting than others. But one pair of hands in particular revealed an unforgettable story. This is the story of Daisy May. She was the new owner of the Hillside Tavern and was by far the most beautiful and genial woman in all of Townsville. To add to her credit, she had good business acumen and an engaging personality. The woman had barely arrived in Townsville a few weeks ago and already the Tavern was flourishing.

One day, Daisy May came to me to have her palms read. Her smooth white palms were covered in a complex and delicate pattern of lines. All the signs pointed towards a long and happy life ahead – full of vitality and the promise of love. But I was troubled by the presence of the little crooked line on the far side of her palm. It meant that great danger lay ahead. Silly Daisy May merely laughed in disbelief.

Her scepticism soon disappeared when Logan Wolfshiem drove into town. It was then that the murder occurred. From the moment I saw the mutilated corpse, I knew that it could only have been the work of a werewolf. The unfortunate victim was covered with a series of savage animal like bite marks and gashes. A tuft of blackish grey fur was also found caught on a branch nearby. This was strange as there were no large animals to be found in the woods. Besides, the murder had occurred on a full moon night.

Folks in the area now took special care to avoid Logan. They would have had him convicted if they could but there was no evidence to prove that he had committed the crime. Thus, Logan with his dishevelled hair, shaggy beard ,dusty trench coat and grimy suitcase struck fear into the hearts of the inhabitants of Townsville who regarded him with silent hostility.

By this time, Daisy May and I had become close friends .One evening, I went to Daisy’s Tavern for some ale. It was nearly closing time and the tavern was empty except for the two of us. Suddenly the bell at the entrance rang and Logan walked in. He said that his car had broken down about a mile back because his engine had overheated. He asked for directions to the nearest source of water which was a stream which ran by the edge of the woods ( Townsville was a primitive place and lacked modern amenities such as telephones, running water and indoor plumbing.) I did not believe a word of it.

Moreover, Daisy May’s behaviour had suddenly changed from the moment that Logan set foot in the tavern. Daisy seemed mesmerised by his savage yet hypnotic presence. Then to my surprise, the silly girl offered to accompany him. I suppose she thought she knew better. They always do. My offer to go along with them was rejected. Daisy May laughed and said that old bones were too much trouble .I would only realize the true significance of those words later. But at that moment, My apprehension turned to horror as I glanced at Logan’s palm as he proffered his hand to receive the delicate fingers of Daisy May.

Hand in hand , as if in a trance, they headed in the direction of the woods. “Come back! Oh, please come back! Don’t you understand? Great danger lies ahead,” I cried in desperation. But as always my warning went unheeded. Further and further they walked until they were mere shadows silhouetted in the light of the rising full moon. Suddenly, one of the figures turned and two red eyes gleamed in the darkness.

Two corpses were found the next morning. The woman had died of a single wound made by a silver bullet( the only way to kill a werewolf). Strangely however, her face was quite peaceful. The corpse of the man unfortunately had suffered a more gruesome death; bearing the grisly telltale bite marks and gashes of a werewolf attack. The gun which fired the fatal bullet and a bottle of wolf bane extract (the scent makes one irresistible to female werewolves) lay beside him. What a howler! I guess it was a case of fatal attraction! But at least the murders stopped.

Ah! Hands! Didn’t I tell you it was an art to lift the cobweb veil of obscurity and solve the riddle presented. But in the end it is always our choices which determine our fate. After all, the future is in our hands.

First post!

2008-01-12T00:52:00.000-08:00

HI! I am new to the blogging world. Hope to enjoy my stay here!!