Amelio…

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.

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To Save Our Son

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.

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Why Can’t They Hear Me Screaming?

A short story by Fabrice Nozier

There are two things in life you wish to never experience. The first is not being able to see when you wake up, and the second is waking up in a place where you did not fall asleep. Actually I lied, there are three things you wish to never experience in life and the third is waking up in a place where you did not fall asleep with no recollection of how you got there. Unfortunately I experienced all three of these things at once on Saturday night when I woke up on a cold floor and couldn’t see anything.

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What Anxiety Feels Like For Me [My Worst Attack]

If you read my previous post you’ve learned that I’m starting to open up more on the story of my anxiety here on 4therace. This is my first time opening up about it, so I hope I increasingly grow better at expressing myself over time. Perhaps I didn’t explain the history of my anxieties too well, or it isn’t clear how exactly I feel when I’m anxious.

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Fictitious Future Fridays #3

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…..

Fictitious Future Fridays #2

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…..

 

 

My Short Story [Excerpt from a Screenplay]

This story is excerpt of an untitled screenplay I have been thinking about for a while. It tells the story of a girl, Nina, who is about to get married to her fiance of about 2 years. Her fiance doesn’t spend too much time with her though as he is huge part of the family business which involves him working overseas with his father. Nina questions their relationship after he misses her birthday. She then spends the next day entirely with her long time friend Elt. This excerpt takes place at the conclusion of what was a day of fun that the two have spent with each other. Feel free to read it in Microsoft Word format or in PDF.

Let me know what you think in the comments below.

Don’t look at my shell, look at my bullet

Social Experiment:

You are placed in a dark room with a complete stranger. You can’t see them, they can’t see you. In the darkness you begin to engage in conversation with he/she. They share the same interests, listen to the music you love, watched your favorite films, ; you absolutely love them. You are elated, entranced. Late nights staying up thinking whether you’ll find that one person on this planet who actually understands you have paid off, you have found them. They have possibly found you.

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Even if Her Heart Was Beating

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.

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At The Hands of The Architect

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.

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