The Meditation_The Shiva, 1955_Another Time, Another Place_The Presence
Catalog Guide:
The Meditation
Tim was all alone this night. It was not a stroke of sheer luck but a well-planned move. Tim's flat was a bachelor pad. His friends would make a point to stay till midnight every day after an intense day at work. Someone would even leave the bachelor pad in the morning. One day, Tim decided to take a sabbatical from the routine and enjoy some alone time. He was longing to spend some alone time after reading a book on Meditation. That book, which he picked up accidentally at the dental clinic, ignited a burning desire to experiment with the practice of Meditation. He brought scented candles...
The Shiva, 1955
The Shiva, 1955For the rest of her life, the smell of pickles and pastrami wwww.onedoor.ccould be the smell of death.Irene was 13 years old, and her mother was dead. Even after everything – the ambulance, the hospital, the horrible evidence of her relatives taking turns shoveling dirt onto the coffin, Irene couldn’t believe that her mother was really gone. Now there were all these people (so many people!) gathered back at the house, nibbling on plates of deli meat and coleslaw, talking about Mama in the past tense. For a moment, she wondered if it was all an elaborate joke they were playing on her. Maybe M...
Another Time, Another Place
The seas heaved below my feet, threatening to knock me off the ship and into their grasping depths. Instead, I slammed painfully into the taffrail at the stern, earning myself a few bruises ribs and nearly losing my cutlass, as the unlucky fellow I was fighting fared worse. He did go over, vanishing under the roiling black waves before I had time to say farewell.Our captain was a right fool to engage the enemy vessel in combat during a storm but I suppose he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Nor I.There were two more of the same ilk as the lad that’d fallen, except these were a bit steadi...
The Presence
Thud. Thud. Thud.The sound of Henry’s ball bouncing against the wood floor in the half empty sitting room at the front of the house was pounding its way towards the kitchen in the back where I sat at the small wooden table with a cigarette in hand. My head was throbbing from the noise.Thud. Thud. Thud.“Henry? Why don’t you take that outside?”“‘Cause, Mama. It smells funny outside.”Thud. Thud. Thud.“What is he talking about,” I mutter to myself.As I stare out the kitchen window that looked to be vibrating from the sweltering August heat, all I could see were grassy fields cooked yellow from th...