Sunday, October 26, 2014

Old William

Old Mr. William Stellacuston sat listening intently with his eyes closed and his head back. His ears absorbed the digital quality sound from his new personal compact disc player. It was currently playing one of his favorite tunes from the 1950s. He melted in the harmony of the strings, piano, and brass as he played with his wooden compass cane.

A slight breeze swept across his wrinkled face. This caused his eyes to open and look around the park. There was a playground in the distance. A couple of young ladies jogged by in their pastel leotards and leg warmers. He took a peek. No matter the era, the trees and the birds are always the same. How time goes by.

"Say, Old Boy, have you seen my friend William by any chance?" said a familiar voice.
William opened his eyes wide. He was so shocked and turned his head so fast that his lightweight headphones moved around his head. One phone landed on his cheek.

"YOU! You crook! You kidnapper!" said William. "Where's my boy? Where is Billy?" At this point William was shaking his cane at Mel, and his headset dropped off his face.
"Hmm...Let us see. Billy...Billy. Ah! Yes, Billy. Well, last I saw him he was a little boy about yea high running around thinking he was an indigenous native of your land," said Mel putting a smile on the situation.

"NO! You clown! He disappeared years ago in college. His friends described a pale-faced freak with colorful pants and a brown overcoat such as you are wearing now."

"Hmm...I see."

If you wish to read the rest of this story, it is in the free ebook Mel's Shorts. Please read more about it at the Mel's Shorts page.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

The Prayer

The following is a work of fiction. The characters are fictional.  Any resemblance of characters to real people is a mere coincidence and unintentional.

Paco ran into the sanctuary. His purple feet smacked the stone floor as he went down the long aisle passing the wooden pews. He got to the votive candle rack. His fingers nervously lit a candle. He knelt near the front of the altar which was in front of the image of a holy Ethereal. The image was made of shiny metal. It was a male in a robe with outstretched wings. It was a magnificent piece carefully crafted by the finest local artist, fitting for any deity. Likewise, the sanctuary's nave was beautiful with its tall adorned columns and painted ceiling. None of that mattered to Paco at the moment. In fact, not even his clothes, or the lack of them.
On his knees he prayed and perspired. His sincerity and excruciating reverence was painfully obvious to any observer, but no one was there. Paco continued to fervently pray. His face was to the floor nearly touching it with his nose.
He felt something. A small breeze blew. It chilled his body. He stopped praying. Fear gripped him. He dared not move. Moments passed. Then he ventured to look up in front of him with the least movement as possible lest he would be noticed. He saw metallic feet and the fringes of a metallic robe.

If you wish to read the rest of this story, it is in the free ebook Mel's Shorts. Please read more about it at the Mel's Shorts page.