Short Stories
Other than 'Beginnings of Journeys, which was updated to reflect my current health condition, the short stories were written in my mid-thirties around 1995. The stories explored the struggles in my inner self, my sexuality, love, relationships and to accept who I am.
I only knew that I must get away, escape from my troubles, go somewhere different and that I must leave immediately.
I stopped at the entrance of the station and shifted my rucksack into a more comfortable position over my shoulder. Bracing myself against the cold I took a step forward when a shadow detached from the darkness of a column and walked toward me. A small man in faded jeans and worn leather jacket that appeared too thin for the cold.
Beginnings of Journeys
He stood close to the edge. A few feet below him a continuous thunder of foaming water rushes by and plummets over the chasm.
He plunged, unnoticed, unseen and unheard, no different from the endless volume of water that descents, day after day, over immeasurable aeon, into icy darkness.
Shooting the Rapids
My Song will Fill Half the Sky
Do I? Do I really know anything? I was overjoyed the day your photograph arrived. I was young, full of dreams and hopes.
I wanted a little more. I had ambitions. Is it so wrong for a woman to want to stand beneath her half of the sky?
The Hilltop Buddha
“Aun, do you know why the Buddha smiles?”
“I don’t know, father.”
“One day you will, and when you do you will understand.”
“Understand what, father?”
An Encounter with Don Juan
"I am Don Juan. I am the world greatest lover".
He leaned forward slightly, challenging her to question the integrity of his simple statement.
"Have you experienced love so intense that it burns away every mask, strips every suffocating veneer that cloaks you.
Until your naked soul stands exposed, vulnerable, trembling, wanting to be swept away by the sweet ache of love, yet fearing the scorching flames of desire?"
Wounded Passion
Frances lay on her back, on a carpet of brown leaves, beneath a group of ancient oak trees. She watched a leaf spin in the air as it dropped to the ground. She let out a slow sigh. She felt lonely. She had lived alone for over a year now and still she hadn't got used to it.
"Hi there."
She sat up quickly, her heart thumping. The voice was to one side of her. His approach was so soft that she had not heard any footsteps.
Sleeping Beauty
A pin prick of blood
A young princess in deep slumber
Many attempts were made to revive her
All failed.
The legend grew
As tens, maybe hundreds of years passed by
It was said that only a kiss from a young prince
True and pure
Can awake her.
Gaze of the Full Moon
From a vantage point high up in the heavens the Monkey King sits cross-legged on a delicate wisp of cloud. The moon is full, bathing the land below in a silvery glow.
Far below, nestling in a valley hidden in the jagged peaks of the Western Mountains, lies a crystal lake; the home of the most beautiful nymphs in the world. With one hand the Monkey King scratches himself absentmindedly as with mounting excitement his eyes rove from one exquisite nymph to another.
The Crystal Forest
Yolin woke up with a start. Something had nudged her, a little ripple of disturbance along the edges of her consciousness. An intrusion that did not fit the natural rightness of her universe.
It was still dark when she stepped out of her tree abode, but she sensed that the others were also up. They too had picked up the alien presence. Five cruisers had landed 20 kli away, in the valley below, and the humans had commenced a search for their hideout.