Tea for the day Lipton Orange Jaipur. Not too bad; I still like Trader Joe's mango black tea better! What **tea** would you like to be served?
Among the many promises I made in my previous post, I present to you below a short story I've written when I was either fifteen or sixteen. Although I always loved writing short stories (or at least fantasizing about them! XD) since I was either seven or nine, this is the only one which I've actually completed without discarding it and that I'm actually proud of!! :-D Anyhow, the idea for the story was a response to a writing exercise in Jerry Cleaver's Immediate Fiction (which I never actually finished reading...otherwise, I would've been writing much more often by now!!) which involved making a short story in thirty minutes related to the following most random words: strawberries, albino, and pistol.
Haha, but you know, I, being the slacker that you all know me as, didn't write this in thirty minutes...I didn't actually finish the story until the next year!!! But I think that that period of time was worthwhile and I kinda regret completing it...I mean...the very process of even typing up any story is SO exciting! (Don't make fun of me now...I'm already hearing some chuckles...grrr...)
Before I stop my blabbering and actually have you read the story, I'd like you to first consider the following question once you're done reading: who do you think "The Stranger" is? Be creative. ;-) I will reveal who "The Stranger" was to me in a future entry as well.
I'm also open to any critiques...after all, I am still an amateur lol.
Oh and one more thing--and I'll shut up after this, I swear!--expect me to post more about my terms and conditions regarding whether any of you **Tea Mates** are willing to share any written or visual art to decorate the **Tea House**...I just still haven't thought up of those "terms and conditions" yet!
Ok...now here's the story...
From your Tea Mate,
Reema B. :-)
When "The Stranger" Barged In...
She was out collecting strawberries as part of her daily routine when before her stood a mysterious young man wearing a mask. From his pale hands and snow-white hair, she could tell that he was an albino.
She ignored his presence and tried to concentrate on her work, but the man still stood there gazing at her. Finally making some movement, the albino shamelessly walked into her house.
Furiously, she ran into her home, but he wasn’t there. She searched each room yet found no one.
“First you disregard my existence,” a strange voice said, “now you do not welcome me into your humble home?”
She turned to the direction of where the voice seemed to have originated and found the albino sitting on the only couch in her small living room with his legs stretched. “Humans—even the humblest among them—were and still are rude to me.” He continued.
“Rude?” she sarcastically questioned with an angry tone, “I don’t think barging in people’s homes without their permission is polite, especially when they’re strangers!”
“I believe we know each other very well…” he answered calmly, “You knew my name ever since you first learned how to speak. Although you’ve never met me, you knew people who had done so...” He stood and walked toward her saying, “I know both your parents.”
“My parents died ages ago!” she retorted, “Now get out of here or else!” she brought her deceased father’s pistol from a drawer and pointed it at him. The albino didn’t seem to display any fear of her threat. He simply looked at the pistol with eyes expressing disgust.
“I held you before you were born,” he said as he grabbed her arm.
“Don’t touch me!!” She interrupted and pulled the trigger—BANG!!—but…the man still held her arm and continued speaking as if nothing happened!
“Now I’ll hold you again…in the long run, nothing can stop me…” He said and then took off his mask.
She let out a scream and everything—her home, her farm, her fears, her hopes, her joys, her sorrows, and her breath—vanished, as if it were all but a dream…
Written by **The Hostess** herself.