Marina liked living in the streets, or so she was constantly telling herself during the long winter nights when the snow and the wind made her shiver so badly so she couldn't fall asleep. Marina was a survivor. She could endure any hardship.
She knew how to find the best spots to sleep at and the best places for finding leftover food and once she has found such a place she would fight like a lioness to keep them for herself - a simple survival instinct.
One day she was on her way to her favorite food scavenging place when she saw an old lady trying to cross a busy road. The old lady's shoe got stack in the sewage rail and an impatient taxi driver was about to run over her, assuming that she was just taking her time and that the sudden acceleration would make her move faster.
Marina immediately understood what was about to happen but she had no time to help that lady get her shoe out of the rail, so she just threw herself on the taxi, nothing but a few scratches and bruises and an angry driver. The taxi driver started yelling at her, shouting "You are crazy I won't pay you a dime". Marina was always terrified of conflicts so she just blurted out a scary "You owe me nothin'" and quickly ran away.
Six months afterward a courier gave her a letter inviting her to M.Shore and Associates Law Office. The letter also mentioned something about her being the sole heir of Agatha Brewnasky.
When she came to the law office she was told that she is indeed the sole inheritor of the late MS. Agatha Brewnasky, who was touched by her help, half a year ago.
"How much does it worth?", she asked.
"The estate is estimated to be worth 100,000,000USD?", the Young lawyer answered calmly.
"What do I have to do to get it? Can you repeat that, please?"
"Just sign it"
"You owe me nothin'", Marina shouted and bolted out of the office.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
The Phone Call
Sandra has definitely had a happy childhood, filled with family gatherings and joy, for as long as she can remember.
Sandra grew up in a large Victorian house in the suburbs with a massive garden, carefully taken care of by the family's gardener. She had quite a normal childhood, except for one odd thing she had rarely paid attention to - there was one room in the house which was always locked and when ever she tried to ask her parents about this room, they would blurt out a vague answer and change the subject.
On her high-school graduation day, the cook had made all her favorite morning treats for breakfast and she left with her parents to celebrate and to give the valedictorian speech. After the ceremony they went to an high end restaurant and finished up the day with her favorite ice cream, strolling around the park, dripping sticky vanilla ice cream all over. A perfect day. Sandra was looking forward to starting college and her parents were smugged with her success so far.
The day after her graduation day, Sandra woke up to a phone call. The phone kept ringing and no one answered it. Half asleep she got out of bad and picked up the phone. "Operation rainbow", a metallic voice said, and the call got instantly disconnected.
Sandra's pupils widened and she immediately went to the rose bush in the garden with a shovel. She dug out a small wooden box and took the key which was in it. She ran directly to the locked room, turned the key inside the lock and entered into the operation room.
Operation Rainbow has commenced.
Sandra grew up in a large Victorian house in the suburbs with a massive garden, carefully taken care of by the family's gardener. She had quite a normal childhood, except for one odd thing she had rarely paid attention to - there was one room in the house which was always locked and when ever she tried to ask her parents about this room, they would blurt out a vague answer and change the subject.
On her high-school graduation day, the cook had made all her favorite morning treats for breakfast and she left with her parents to celebrate and to give the valedictorian speech. After the ceremony they went to an high end restaurant and finished up the day with her favorite ice cream, strolling around the park, dripping sticky vanilla ice cream all over. A perfect day. Sandra was looking forward to starting college and her parents were smugged with her success so far.
The day after her graduation day, Sandra woke up to a phone call. The phone kept ringing and no one answered it. Half asleep she got out of bad and picked up the phone. "Operation rainbow", a metallic voice said, and the call got instantly disconnected.
Sandra's pupils widened and she immediately went to the rose bush in the garden with a shovel. She dug out a small wooden box and took the key which was in it. She ran directly to the locked room, turned the key inside the lock and entered into the operation room.
Operation Rainbow has commenced.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Wild At Heart
Greg and Stella were radiating at their 60's anniversary. They firmly gripped each other's wrinkled hands. On their faces a map of their challenges and joy was intricately drawn. Sun spots were sprinkled on their bodies and faces to commemorate tropical vacations and carefree trips in the nature.
Their children envied their perfect togetherness, their never fading love towards each other. Two of their three children are divorced and one is unhappily married. They could not have translated their parents' success onto their own lives.
The way they would perfectly understand each other without saying a word. A smile or a hand gesture was enough. The way they have gathered so many internal jokes. There were so many keywords, pictures and events that would lead them to smile to each other and perhaps share a hug, a kiss and a memory. The way they would complete each other's sentences and read each other's books. The way they enjoyed the same movies and appreciated the same songs.
After dinner, all the guests set before the fireplace and Greg and Stella set together on their love-sit, embracing each other and smiling.
"How do you do that?", their son asked.
"We always stay wild at heart", they answered simultaneously and smiled.
Their children envied their perfect togetherness, their never fading love towards each other. Two of their three children are divorced and one is unhappily married. They could not have translated their parents' success onto their own lives.
The way they would perfectly understand each other without saying a word. A smile or a hand gesture was enough. The way they have gathered so many internal jokes. There were so many keywords, pictures and events that would lead them to smile to each other and perhaps share a hug, a kiss and a memory. The way they would complete each other's sentences and read each other's books. The way they enjoyed the same movies and appreciated the same songs.
After dinner, all the guests set before the fireplace and Greg and Stella set together on their love-sit, embracing each other and smiling.
"How do you do that?", their son asked.
"We always stay wild at heart", they answered simultaneously and smiled.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Roadtrip
He switched on the engine at 8:00 a.m. and opened the radio for the morning news. The forecast for that day had been great so he started driving.
The first fours hours of driving were amazing. The scenery was breathtaking. The icecaps, the waterfalls, the volcanoes and the scattered hot springs, hiding inside lava fields. In each curve of the road the views changed dramatically. From an evergreen forest to a black wasteland. From azure blue hot springs and yellowing steaming earth to mammoth glaciers.
He didn't feel like pulling over and resting his muscles for a few minutes as the beauty and peculiarity of the place kept him alert and going.
At noon it happened.
He felt that he was losing control over the car, the earth beneath him started shaking. At first it was nothing but a weak quiver and then it started trembling violently. He could here the surface of the earth rumbling and rocks started rolling down the mountain's peak.
He looked up and became consumed in terror when he saw the fire tongues coming out of the mountain's head like a mythic creature, shooting magma all over.
The first fours hours of driving were amazing. The scenery was breathtaking. The icecaps, the waterfalls, the volcanoes and the scattered hot springs, hiding inside lava fields. In each curve of the road the views changed dramatically. From an evergreen forest to a black wasteland. From azure blue hot springs and yellowing steaming earth to mammoth glaciers.
He didn't feel like pulling over and resting his muscles for a few minutes as the beauty and peculiarity of the place kept him alert and going.
At noon it happened.
He felt that he was losing control over the car, the earth beneath him started shaking. At first it was nothing but a weak quiver and then it started trembling violently. He could here the surface of the earth rumbling and rocks started rolling down the mountain's peak.
He looked up and became consumed in terror when he saw the fire tongues coming out of the mountain's head like a mythic creature, shooting magma all over.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Clean
Clarissa was kneeling on her knees and holding the bathtub with one hand and a brush with the other hand. She scrubbed the grayish enamel surface frantically. Her knuckles were bruised from the perpetual scrubbing and her wrists were swollen but she would never stop.
A year ago Clarissa was a successful businesswoman, a wife and a mother of a three year old girl, Suzanna. Suzanna was beautiful with rosy cheeks, plump lips and wide azure eyes. Her golden curls fell softly on her snow-white forehead and doughy white shoulders. Her long and thick eyelashes were flapping elegantly with each squint.
Clarissa was in sheer heaven, finding the balance between keeping her business running while taking care of her daughter and being a friend and a lover to her husband, John.
It was the day before Suzanna's third birthday and Suzanna was already big enough to understand and to get excited about the party her parents were throwing for her. Clarissa made use of a couple of quite hours, while Suzanna played in her room with her toys, and took care of some last minute issues for her business. She had no idea Suzanna had decided to take a bath by herself, to get ready for tomorrow and surprise her mother with how big she was.
When Clarissa found out it was already too late. Suzanna's angelic body was floating in the tub, her eyes closed shut and her skin bluish. Clarissa's world had fallen apart. She could not even scream or cry to the sight of her drowned daughter. She just crumpled up and collapsed on the bathroom floor.
On the day of Suzanna's funeral Clarissa started her cleaning expedition. Every morning she woke up and went straight to the bathroom and started scrubbing all day long. The enamel was peeling off and turned gray from the harsh detergents, but Clarissa kept on cleaning, hoping to cleanse her soul.
A year ago Clarissa was a successful businesswoman, a wife and a mother of a three year old girl, Suzanna. Suzanna was beautiful with rosy cheeks, plump lips and wide azure eyes. Her golden curls fell softly on her snow-white forehead and doughy white shoulders. Her long and thick eyelashes were flapping elegantly with each squint.
Clarissa was in sheer heaven, finding the balance between keeping her business running while taking care of her daughter and being a friend and a lover to her husband, John.
It was the day before Suzanna's third birthday and Suzanna was already big enough to understand and to get excited about the party her parents were throwing for her. Clarissa made use of a couple of quite hours, while Suzanna played in her room with her toys, and took care of some last minute issues for her business. She had no idea Suzanna had decided to take a bath by herself, to get ready for tomorrow and surprise her mother with how big she was.
When Clarissa found out it was already too late. Suzanna's angelic body was floating in the tub, her eyes closed shut and her skin bluish. Clarissa's world had fallen apart. She could not even scream or cry to the sight of her drowned daughter. She just crumpled up and collapsed on the bathroom floor.
On the day of Suzanna's funeral Clarissa started her cleaning expedition. Every morning she woke up and went straight to the bathroom and started scrubbing all day long. The enamel was peeling off and turned gray from the harsh detergents, but Clarissa kept on cleaning, hoping to cleanse her soul.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
The House On Top Of The Mountain
Today my initiation test is taking place. On exactly 2 pm I am supposed to run to the top of the mountain, get to the house and knock on the door. I am not allowed to run away from the door for a minute.
I am not afraid of doing it. Everyone in the gang have done it before me. Usually the freak who lives there doesn't get to the door at all, so it's a pretty safe shot. What is a minute? There's nothing to it. Isn't it?
The guys on our gang aren't bad, but they are respected at school and no one bullies them around. I also want to be respected at school. I am sick and tired of all the pranks people throw at me. I have had enough of the beating, the name calling and the lunch money stealing. I want to belong and in order to do that I must run up the mountain and knock on the freak's door.
How hard can that be, right?
I am tying my shoe laces twice - no one needs a loose shoe lace when running away after those 60 seconds of waiting. I am running as fast as I can, sweat pours down my forehead and through the apples of my cheeks. Some drops falls down through my eye lashes and into my eyes. The salty sweat stings my eyes. I am wiping my face with my sleeve, while running. I can't stop, or they'll look at it as a sign of weakness. A moment of fear. Finally I am standing in front of the crooked house on top of the mountain.
I knock on the old mahogany door three times. The guys are watching so I knock hard and confidently and start counting.
One. Two. Three. Four... up to sixty. On my 10th count I hear heavy steps coming toward the door. My heart drops. The freak is coming to the door. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. I hear him closer and closer and my heart is racing like crazy. Pumping blood and transferring oxygen. Twenty four. Twenty five. Twenty six. I hear the key turning inside the lock. "Why me?" I am thinking. "Why does he have to be so fucking close to the door on my day of initiation?". Twenty eight. Twenty nine. The door squeaks and opens... I cannot runaway or I would turn into the laughing stock of the entire school.
The freak peeks out and invites me in.
I am not afraid of doing it. Everyone in the gang have done it before me. Usually the freak who lives there doesn't get to the door at all, so it's a pretty safe shot. What is a minute? There's nothing to it. Isn't it?
The guys on our gang aren't bad, but they are respected at school and no one bullies them around. I also want to be respected at school. I am sick and tired of all the pranks people throw at me. I have had enough of the beating, the name calling and the lunch money stealing. I want to belong and in order to do that I must run up the mountain and knock on the freak's door.
How hard can that be, right?
I am tying my shoe laces twice - no one needs a loose shoe lace when running away after those 60 seconds of waiting. I am running as fast as I can, sweat pours down my forehead and through the apples of my cheeks. Some drops falls down through my eye lashes and into my eyes. The salty sweat stings my eyes. I am wiping my face with my sleeve, while running. I can't stop, or they'll look at it as a sign of weakness. A moment of fear. Finally I am standing in front of the crooked house on top of the mountain.
I knock on the old mahogany door three times. The guys are watching so I knock hard and confidently and start counting.
One. Two. Three. Four... up to sixty. On my 10th count I hear heavy steps coming toward the door. My heart drops. The freak is coming to the door. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. I hear him closer and closer and my heart is racing like crazy. Pumping blood and transferring oxygen. Twenty four. Twenty five. Twenty six. I hear the key turning inside the lock. "Why me?" I am thinking. "Why does he have to be so fucking close to the door on my day of initiation?". Twenty eight. Twenty nine. The door squeaks and opens... I cannot runaway or I would turn into the laughing stock of the entire school.
The freak peeks out and invites me in.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Alone In The Woods
I went on an expedition facing my deepest and most gruesome of my fears - being alone in the woods.
I woke up in the morning having some second thoughts about my journey of self discovery. I thought I might actually be OK with having fears. I am a human being and as such, I am allowed to have fears. It is normal to be consumed with fears. I have no urging need to face my fears and conquer them.
I was already unpacking when I realized it was my fears speaking through me, eating through my will and making me powerless and unable to control my own ways, so I repacked my bag and went to the woods.
Being alone is a fear I have had for a long time. Regardless of where I am at any given moment - I hate being alone and I see it as a personal failure. Even if being alone is just a momentary episode, bound to elapse, I just cannot handle it. Being alone in the woods adds the elements into the equation and stir things up inside me. My fears escalate and become more powerful outside in the woods. Now I am going to to dive right into the deep water and be alone in the woods.
Will I be able to go through it? How will I come back from the woods? Will I be stronger and more potent or will I come back shattered and subsided?
I have gone on a journey into the wilderness inside me and I have no idea how this journey will come up.
I woke up in the morning having some second thoughts about my journey of self discovery. I thought I might actually be OK with having fears. I am a human being and as such, I am allowed to have fears. It is normal to be consumed with fears. I have no urging need to face my fears and conquer them.
I was already unpacking when I realized it was my fears speaking through me, eating through my will and making me powerless and unable to control my own ways, so I repacked my bag and went to the woods.
Being alone is a fear I have had for a long time. Regardless of where I am at any given moment - I hate being alone and I see it as a personal failure. Even if being alone is just a momentary episode, bound to elapse, I just cannot handle it. Being alone in the woods adds the elements into the equation and stir things up inside me. My fears escalate and become more powerful outside in the woods. Now I am going to to dive right into the deep water and be alone in the woods.
Will I be able to go through it? How will I come back from the woods? Will I be stronger and more potent or will I come back shattered and subsided?
I have gone on a journey into the wilderness inside me and I have no idea how this journey will come up.
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