Do You Really Need That Camel Saddle?_The banker's cake_The Stone of the Undying_Ranting in My R
Catalog Guide:
Do You Really Need That Camel Saddle?
By Judith Blake WestDOES YOUR CAMEL REALLY NEED THAT SADDLE?Every tour group has them. They're those otherwise rational and frugal people who just can't pass up a chance to buy the latest rage in local trinkets and objects d'art. They're the ones carrying musical instruments and camel saddles by hand through five cities for two weeks because they wouldn't fit in their suitcases and they just couldn't pass them up (they'll be such nice conversation pieces). Sometimes they even buy extra suitcases on the trip to accommodate their purchases. Their motto is, "Shop 'till you drop!"These compulsive...
The banker's cake
Mr. Khoury was a banker by day and a baker by night. He always rose at 6 AM sharp without the need of an alarm clock nor any other help. His mind was sharp as a polished stone and clear as still water in a haiku poem. His French mom used to repeat constantly that the day belongs to those who rise early. His bright eyes at the middle of his clean-shaven face carried sunshine beams to everything and everyone. At 7 AM, you would see him at the port of his coastal city, greeting the fisherman coming back from their nightly trips into the sea. He would buy only the freshest of the catch, the rawes...
The Stone of the Undying
“What do you mean, it’s my fault? How is this my fault?” Jean doesn’t answer. Instead she continues picking up plastic cups that line the room and aggressively throwing them in a huge garbage bag. “How is this not your fault? You told them we have it,” Jean finally says, not stopping to look at me. “They knew we planned on using it. Do you think all those jerks would have turned up here tonight if they weren’t hoping the Ritual would happen?” “They came because they’re our friends.” “Our friends? Is this what friends do?” She gestures generally around the room. There are bits of a broken end ...
Ranting in My Radius
I said it outloud tonight because I couldn't write it down. I spoke in my comforting writing voice and tone. I managed a smile as I hugged my knees to my chest, in the wrong corner of my bed, watching a familiar body breath its sleeping breath. I said out loud, like this: “Dear Diary, Today I saw everything around me, but that was not reciprocated by my environment. The pewww.onedoor.ccople, and the things, were oblivious to me. The laws of physics and gravity ignored me, and even matter decided not to give me any attention. So naturally, I thought I was dead. Of course, I was, or am still just a human,...