“I watched the vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured.” Two thoughts entered my mind. One, it would come for me before the day ended. Two, night would reach me before it did. I shut my eyes and prayed for the night.
“Mama! Mama! Look! A man!… He’s bleeding”.
I wished, that was my son Toby calling his mama, but Toby was no longer five. He turned 17 last June. The Cult dumped my body early this morning and drove away with Toby. I may never see my son again.
“Get back here!” a woman shouted. I opened my eyes. She was closer than I thought, moving cautiously around me. Her eyes were as sharp as the vulture’s. She was not hungry, hers was a look of horror. What have they done to me, what can she see?
On my return home to Papua New Guinea on September 16th, it was the Independence Day. My son Chris and I were very lucky to see PNG people celebrating in their traditional costumes.
On arrival at the Jacksons International Airport, Port Moresby, our first meeting was with this stunning beauty. I wish I had taken more, but I only had time to take four photographs of this beautiful woman and rush to domestic terminal to transit to Lae. I will get her name later, that’s how PNG networking is, but she was dressed in Simbu traditional dress. I believe she was part of the Air Niugini staff and assisted the international departure passengers.
If you have any questions about her dress, ask me, but this post is purely to show the beauty of the image. When I come across moments like this, I am very proud to be a Papua New Guinean. My reasons being, we are unique people, we love our culture and we are always proud to show it.
This is my contribution to Mondays Finish the Story. This flash fiction challenge requires up to 150 words excluding the first sentence provided by Barbara Beacham. Barbara also provides the image. This image inspired several stories, but I decided to go with this one. I hope you enjoy the story.
“The Cold Lazarus” – JK.Leahy short story
“Few knew about the castle hidden inside the island.” Jezebel climbed carefully over the fragile, sunburnt coral.
As her tender arches gripped for support, she reached out to push the hanging vines apart. Crushed coral dust and tiny pale branches fell off her feet and into the deep blue ocean a few metres below her. A boat approached. Beyond the gentle hum of the breeze, there was a splash in the creek at the opening. Jezebel hesitated before high strident, piercing screeches shocked her as a swarm of black scrawny bats flew at her, ruffling her wispy golden hair. She gasped for air. Suddenly, it dawned on her. The note on her window that led her here; was that really a note from James, her sweetheart? Or was it from Lazarus, James’ evil twin? Ice flooded her veins as she saw his towering, hefty silhouette come into view at the castle entrance. Where was James?
Mondays Finish the Story is a flash fiction challenge by Barbara W. Beacham. The story requires 100-150 words (excluding the first sentence which Barbara writes). She also provides the picture. The challenge runs from Monday to Sunday. Last week, I was away in PNG and missed this one but the picture inspired me so I went ahead and wrote my story. My son Nathan wanted to write a story for this challenge as well so I hope you like what we did.
“The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode.”
On the edge, Maine, Tony and Boxer stopped. It rained. Cuffed in a hessian bag, Benny struggled. In turns, they kicked him into a bloody heap. The bag came off.
“Leave him,” Tony said. “The animals will get him”.
“Finish him off – Frank’s orders,” Maine growled and kicked Benny in the crotch.
Benny curled, feeling warm between his legs where his urine could not wait.
“Someone’s coming. Run!” – Boxer yelled and drove away.
A car stopped. Footsteps approached.
“I told those idiots to bury the fucker. He’s alive? Pick him up”. It was Frank.
Four hands shoved under Benny’s arms. They drove to the cemetery and stopped.
“Throw him in there,” Frank ordered. Benny hit the fresh grave landing – hard. He waited for the trigger. Instead, soft, dry soil slapped his wet face. Frank was burying him alive, just like he buried his wife, Benny’s lover of two years.
My son Nathan Harris was inspired to write his own 150 words that takes place after my story. This was Nathan’s own writing and I have not changed a word.
“The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode.”
“Seemed a fitting place as any to leave that shit Benny” Frank smirked as he opened his door, escaping the storm. He had just enough time to notice a set of muddy footprints before the crack of a gunshot hushed the rain, and searing pain through his leg dropped him to one knee. As Frank cursed on the floor, the slender form of a dead man dissolved into view; his pinstripe suit was caked with mud.
“Benny?” Frank gurgled, “How the bloody hell did you – ”
“Rookie…” Benny coughed, lungs choking on earth, and emptied his last 5 shots into Frank’s gut.
Frank clutched himself, frozen in pain and fear. As the last moments of his life drained away, Benny strode to the door and glanced back.
“When you try bury someone, you bury them deep…” he began softly, “because a shallow grave won’t hold a vengeful man down.”
For Cool Stuff I want to introduce Jimmy Diresta, one of my son Christopher’s favourite contemporary artist and craftsman. Being a craftsman himself, Chris follows Jimmy’s work and admires some of the unique objects and art pieces that Jimmy has re-created from ordinary things he found in junk and re-cycled yards. One such beautiful creation is Jimmy’s collection of guitars he has crafted.
A Jimmy DiResta guitar
As Jimmy tells it, “I have been using tools and making things for over 40 years. And teaching for over 20. I started learning how to make things while working with my dad in his wood shop. He put me in the environment to keep experimenting and learning. Through out my school years every job I had pertained to making things: carpentry, sign making, florist and props. I went to School of Visual Arts in NYC to earn my BFA where I have been teaching since 94’. Over the last 20 years I have been designing and fabricating many things including guitars, toys, furniture, clothes and more.” See more on Video Wood Workers. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLmKrXjTwIo#t=49
Tribalmystic Stories 