A short story by Fabrice Nozier
“Amelio,” Ms. Farajah said. “It’s called Amelio”. Sitting at her red clothed roundtable were Ms. Faraja’s first visitors in years, Owen and Anne. “It’ll open her right up. She won’t be able to stop talking,” her elderly voice cracked. After Anne’s husband of three years and high-school sweetheart had suddenly passed away, Owen had done his very best to ease the great emotional pain of his longtime friend. He had tried everything from joint therapy sessions – he was a friend of Anne’s husband as well – to walks in the park, to meditation but all of them led nowhere. The overly bombastic, lively friend Owen once knew in his college days was now shrunken down to a nearly mute woman. Looking down at the jar of the red gelatin substance in front of them, Owen said to Ms. Faraja, “So it’s like a truth serum?”. The frail old lady shook her head “No, it’s Amelio,” she rasped back with her distinctive Mediterranean accent. “She will finally start talking like you asked but whether it’s the truth or a lie… we’ll never know”. Owen stared at his emotionless friend, back at the jar of Amelio and around Ms. Faraja’s weird apartment. Light had barely shone through the thick red curtains but the rooms were just bright enough to see the beady eyes of taxidermied owls. Clocks of all shapes and sizes were scattered across all walls ticking in unison. Tick! Ms. Faraja took a spoonful of the Amelio and smudged it on Owen’s head while he was distracted by the strange aesthetic of her apartment. “Now let’s begin,” she said.
Continue reading “Amelio…”
A short story by Fabrice Nozier
Date: Sometime in 2002
Late at night in the basement of a university library, freshman students Juliana and Scott were working on their final assignments for the spring semester. Juliana, a Creative Writing major, was finishing up her final short piece for the year; a story about a group of teens who fall inside the subconscious of their friend who suffers of anxiety and depression. Scott, an English major, was supposed to be working on his final essay response to Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, but instead spend the night encouraging a worried Juliana that she was more than capable to effectively illustrate her short story. As introverts, the two were glad to have found each other very early on during orientation week. After expressing their love for science fiction and literature, they quickly became great friends. Once afraid to share their ideas with anyone, they spent countless nights elaborating on their own works of fiction that they’d soon hope would be adapted into novels, plays, screenplays, and even movies. Their strong friendship had quickly evolved into a relationship and now, two weeks before the end of their first year in college, they had happily been dating for 8 months.
Continue reading “To Save Our Son”
If you haven’t already, feel fread to read the Fictitious Future Fridays #2 in order to participate in this week’s……
Now that you’ve chosen whatever location that magic spark has taken you and you’ve selected your tour guide, it’s time to face a crossroad in your journey. Whether you want to explore the galaxy with Han and Chewie, I’m looking at you Michael J. Miller, or you simply want to visit a snowy park at nighttime, like me, your journey is now asking you to make a decision. A sign which writes “road to success” directs you to turn right. Another sign which writes “don’t go right” directs you left. The navigator, your trusted person you chose to explore your world with you, urges you to go right. Which direction do you go?
My answer: Given that my navigator is my late grandmother, my gut would tell me to listen to her and go right. But given the ambiguity of the sign going left that literally tells me “don’t go right”, I’d want to go left. Why shouldn’t I go right? It promises me success so what can go wrong? What’s there? On the other hand, the leftwards sign tells me don’t go right but doesn’t promise me anything if I choose to go left!!!!! The paradox …..
Please feel free to leave your response below…..
If you haven’t already, feel free to read the last Fictitious Future Friday in order to participate in this week’s
The magic pink spark has taken you to the place you wished for last week. Not only does it have the ability to transport you across reality, space, and time but it also can tap into your conscious. In order to explore wherever it has taken you, the spark has selected someone that you know/knew to be your guide in this journey. Who is this person? Why do you think you have selected them.
My answer: I think it would be my late grandmother. I have slept with one of her bed sheets almost everyday since her passing (it’s been 7 years) and her spirit is somewhat a form of protection. She would be the perfect person to guide me in this journey….
Feel free to leave your response in the comments below…..
A spark of light falls from the sky and lands in some grounds near you. It turns out to be a glowing magic rock that has the ability to transport you across reality, space and time. You reach down and grab it. Where does it take you? Why have you chosen this place?
My answer: The spark takes me to a snowy park at nighttime. I think I have chosen this place as I’ve recently played in the snow without seeing it for years and realized how much I loved it. As for why in a park, it’s the perfect place to have fun in the snow.
Feel free to leave your response in the comments below…..
A circular room. Ten bodies lay on their respective boards during the hours of slumber. One of which was dissimilar to the rest. She lay awake on the slant of her board contemplating. Unlike most, she placed a hand on her heart to see if it was there. No pulse.
“I am not alive” she whispered.
Continue reading “Even if Her Heart Was Beating”
Hatred. It is assumed that this idea has been embedded in the human conscience. That it is a part of our nature. It resides within our DNA. It is what makes us human. And why should we not assume so? Since the dawn of humanity man has known hatred better than he knows the stars in the sky. Man has known hatred better than the seas he fish in. Man has known hatred better than he knows himself.
Continue reading “At The Hands of The Architect”
Part 7 of how “us” began.
YOU ARE A THIRD
THEY ARE THE FOURTHS [residents in another dimension]
At the post, the Leader (God) thought what was to be done with Darkness and the return of the shadows. The Sixth, our prime guardian, was overwhelmed with his previous encounters with Darkness and its exploitation of the Leader. The lonely Sixth questioned the importance of contributing at this post (our world), why the Leader had journeyed off into the cosmos with the others, and why the….. (the Sixth’s thoughts were stopped short). The Seventh spoke and proposed the greatest offer to the Sixths (our guardians). The Seventh gave each Sixth a specific power in order to protect this post from the emergence and possible proliferation of the shadows.
Continue reading “Before Dawn, Utopia was Imminent [Translated for the Mind of a Third]”
“You know what I really mean? I don’t get it. Why are some of us so indifferent about it? Movies and TV certainly have something to do with it. They shrug off character deaths sometimes like it’s a nothing. It has influenced us ya know? Now we don’t… ya know feel so emotional towards it. We just use the words death and dying with so much, ya know, carelessness. But it’s a special word ya know. “Dying”. It’s the only verb where ya know nothing succeeds the action. After we jump we fall, after running we stop, after sleeping we wake.? After dying we nothing.”.
He stared out into his family’s vast yard. The porch light and his parent’s room upstairs had barely illuminated the end of the pathway. He stared out in the blackness knowing very well that there was a straight walkway leading into his large garden. Over the creak of his rocking chair and some hoots he continued.
“But I mean” as he looked over in the other chair, “you must know all about it. I mean, no one knows what I am talking about except you right?” The slight movement in the other chair insinuated a nod. “Do you think they’ll understand?” as he pointed upstairs, “I mean no one does. Ya know? Anyways…” he said underneath his breath “we goin now or what?”.
Slowly the mass in the other chair stood up and began walking down the stairs into the darkness of the pathway.
“Alright then!” he said “Ma! Pa! I am going out!”.
At the brink of light from the house, he could see the Reaper tilting his head down the path hinting the boy to follow. When he caught up to the Reaper he questioned “Now what?”. To which the Reaper dismissed and looked straight down the dark pathway. The boy shrugged off this gesture and looked once more at the faint glow of his house before continuing his walk with a new friend.
Part 6 of how “us” began.
At the Third, Darkness was confronted by the Sixth, our Guardian. A defining moment in our timeline that resulted in the dystopian “now” that we live in (maybe just you). For the first “moments” the Sixth stared at Darkness with peculiarity [Note! It is impossible for us Thirds to fathom the image of Darkness as “it” is an embodiment of itself. The entity’s appearances, therefore, are infinite making it impossible for our finite minds to imagine Darkness. Simply put, on the materialistic world (the Third) Darkness resembles the silhouette of a man standing in the foreground of a sunset. Indistinguishable yet anyone, anything could read the contents of its soul with ease. Pure Darkness].
Darkness neared and circled ‘round the Sixth. It neared closer and closer near our Sixth and let out the first line of a whisper when suddenly a great white light separated the two. Blinded by illumination, Darkness stumbled backwards and caught the faint image of 6 mighty beings. It was the other 5 Guardians and God. Instantly the white beings seized our Sixth and slipped back to the post.
For the Thirds, please read Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 and Part 5