forgotten..

Back in 1201, a war broken out between no one, a couple who slowly recognized that their  marriage was as if sliding over a cliff to a deep disagreement. They used to put each other down since they started their relationship nine years ago. A dark relationship with a nurse on a Friday night, no regret; no need to forget it, it is exhausting now on wards were Sky-high dreams and plans started fading, divorce loomed and looks possible before Christmas with the arrival of the first pregnancy.

As the couple spent years in disagreement, their only kid lost many chances to be at school. Instead, every spring he flees the house to the nearby forest for a peace of mind. A destiny that guided him to be blessed with total ignorance in the age of artificial intelligence.

The neighbors, living in the only cottage at the forest, a post office man and his wife enjoyed arguing in anger generating load voices and sometimes noises that looks like household stuff being thrown from upstairs striking weak wooden walls and in some unfortunate incident a hit on a face.

The wife was so young; only five years older than the kid. Today he is an unavoidable charming nineteen years old seven feet high muscular curvy brown-haired gentleman. The postman lost his wife who never loved with him.

When I was a child, I missed my education, love for horse riding when the post office man convinced my father that I will be happy and forced me to marry him, is was death, life just got frozen, she murmured, laid her head on his chest and finally enjoyed a deep blooms yummy breath. She escaped back to her youth. Now, I will be no longer forgotten.

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Texture; Manhood

Adam is still confronting tons of blockades since he embarked on a journey to achieve a long desired radical revolution to own present routine. A journey to generate pleasures that transfers him-as a man through time to his mid-twenties. The enthusiasm has accompanied him for years as he was held back by prehistoric traditions pinned in solid believes that was deeply planted in every cell. Adam suffered, yes and in total silence; manhood, bravery and dignity to be maintained unscratched.

A revision of his life style, though essential, is useless. Illogical explanations looms as ugly thoughts approach darkened souls. Man, get rid of it all-if any. Unwelcome current long-lived textures; lust, fear, longing. Craving for a warm blossomed breath with a gentle hug till sunshine. Morning light ignites his grey hair taking him places; another illusion of a back to life lie. Long straightened dark black hair used to lay all over him on cold lonely winter nights. A tenderness that has gone astray when the wind of jealousy conquered her fifty-three years back at the shores of a dry lake.

Turned to a fragmented soul, brain’s power fading so does the testosterone factory production; sick of continuous manly performance failure, he wonders-till when? Remembering the swan lake could neither heal bleeding wounds nor the pulse tenseness. Dawn textured a thread of lies; babe is returning to the gentle custody; noisy entertainment overwhelms as his bones shiver. Will she ever? he murmured. Red curtain falls on another fake curvy texture; awaited in tranquil man’s misery in his quest to escape his long-lived mid-life crisis rhythm.

The Soul Mate.

At New Year’s Eve, he stretched his thin legs and laid on the grey sofa, he holds tight the TV remote control, she wonders, will he ever set her favorite channel! That never happened before without a long argument and argument. Dear, will you make us coffee, she whispers. His lungs get full of air, polluted kinda slur.

I am watching the news, maybe after words; he replied with anger. She wanted to get crazy, but decided to calm down, this was always the case the last twenty years of a dreadful marriage; soul traits cracked on such a special night.

How come they never enjoyed a dinner!? Tonight, she prepared his favorite dish with broccoli salad and red wine. Ironically, what a miserable night, your perfumes are getting dried in their bottles, check the shelves. When he is going to smell it on your fancy black lace mini night fit? Time to let go the hipster to love. Insist for hugs of freedom; a soulmate milestone.

my sister!!..

Last year, she shined when she got a pay raise..

this year she was extra positive that he will ask her to marry him..

yep.. life will sparkle again..

last month, bad news loomed spread in town

this week she felt it..roamers defined..

tonight he stepped in hugging a partner..

a young blond surrounded with attractive curves…

her feminine perfume filled the hall

Gosh…..not my sisteR.

 

in a tent..

This is a true story with some adjustments…

Four kids for an extremely rich father with a glaring lavish life decided to throw their neighbor who lived all his life in tent beside their father’s villa. The father used to visit the neighbor every week before he recently pass away.The man in the tent used to get his living expenses from the father who allocated a portion of his harvest to the neighbors. The kids decided to stop this and sell the harvests without giving anything to the poor; then the man in the tent was thrown away.

The kids were never worried; they took a decision. The mother was always in disagreement with the husbands’ attitude; she supported the decision. In a winter stormy night, heavy rains, scary thunder, intense lightning; a man was shouting: Fire..Fire…the kids’ farm was completely destroyed. Blaming each other, at sunrise- they rushed to the fields. Gosh, all turned into ruins. This is because of what we did to our neighbors, the youngest shouts. They spend years praying, but useless.

Life goes around; they end up in a tent.

imminent recreation..

Alfonso thought about it since he was twelve….

Today, it is imminent.. Yes; it should be now before it is too late..

He is just not so sure where or when to start…and

With what?,….With whom?…..And why is it need:

Stupidity overwhelms!

Mate, it is a pain in the neck. Call whoever to recreate stinky souls..

When all done; devils will entertain the town again..

Chimneys fall on the backer shop..

Bar girls running across the street half naked..

Holding her son with bloody weak arms; Kate screams.

Be aware, the buss driver just went unconscious; drunk maybe.

Now, Alfonso calls again…

No answer… Why? Where it the Lord of the rings..

Where did all the peculiar guys disappear?

Alfonso, it is just another one ugly illusion of yours; Kate shouts..

Time to create it all over again; Maintain you manhood.

Imaginary Friends

At the age of four, they used to be neighbors. The mothers baked bread for the whole village. And in the carnival, sweets served with tea and juice. Years gone by at the speed of light. They finished high school and joined college in different countries.

Yes, still remembering the good old days when they used to eat fresh hot bread from mother. And still crave for the days when they ride bicycles up the bushy mountain collecting figs and racing turtles. Life was rosy, grass was green, and humming birds sang all night. Now, the hardly see each other. Family responsibilities and distance made it hard to be together.

They met after eight years at the carnival. Sweets and juice were served. However, this time it was imported. Mothers are there no more. Despite death; a reality manifests. Now time to face the truth, imaginary friends; they were…

a busy market

During the sixties, in a small village, a grandmother used to teach her grandchildren a traditional proverb: ” Profit exists where more legs Pass”. One can sell more lollipops before noon on a busy market. One of her grandsons disagreed and wanted to prove otherwise. So, he started a candy shop and randomly displayed snacks on the front window. The shoppers disliked the snacks. Lollipops rotted after  months on the store’s shelve. It was a big loss; great he thought. With the winner’s spirit, he ran to his granny’s to find that the funeral was completed and granny is gone.

 

GATE-LESS

Another Kodak photo maybe was taken during 1721 shows a huge farm with all types of Mango tree around its boarders. The owner seems to be welcoming the visitors although he was not in the photo. Most likely, it was a she. A generous, welcoming female.

gate

Never mind the owner, once Alfonzo passed the mango tress he started to walking through a wide field of strawberry, some are ready to be attacked as their blossom concurred his eyes and nose.

The farm owner built a fence out of a low-high palm trees that her horses enjoyed running freely the whole day. Alfonzo’s eyes fell on a rather small cottage at the far end of the farm. He could not wait to reach there. His steps were getting faster and wider with his heart beats getting stronger with every meter he advances. The cottage entrance faced the other side; Gosh; there is no gate. The owner must be inside; whispered Alfonzo and should I remove the wet soil on my shoes first?

He shivered, scared to death; there was nothing inside but a grave bellow a tiny marble flat stone with engraved words that reads: ‘’keep it gate-less, it is not my photo’’.

My Divorce.

A sixty years old Psychologist treated Anna for years. He used to visit her at home for therapy. The Psychologist was not so keen to be paid. Her husband was under the impression that Anna is just pretending. This was a great source of the husband jealousy. Just some basic doubts to be confirmed. Can this be true, he is an elderly and my wife is only thirty-one? he wondered. So, he decided to pretend being away on the next treatment session. He sneaked to the garden to watch them from the low bedroom window.

Anna jumped from her bed, hugged the old man strongly and began to cry. She sat on his lab with her head on his chest and her hands running smoothly on his grey hair. Here, he decided to break the door in a savage manner seeking revenge. She shouted; enough you are acting nuts as ever. Damn it, he is my father you fool.

You know exactly why I did hide the truth for all those years. It was your mother who did not agree to our marriage. She rejected my father when he proposed to her. I loved you so much to let this spoil our life. For now darling, I am relieved. Please, send me my divorce paper ;  I am done.