Archive for the ‘short story’ Category

The Dream

Posted: November 17, 2013 in passion, short story, writing
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(something I wrote a while ago)



Lisa was jolted out of a deep sleep by the bedroom door banging shut.

I must have left it open, she thought as she stretched and slowly crawled out of her bed. Then, she realized that it was a hot night and she closed the windows to turn on the AC.

Her heart stared to pound faster as she turned on her bedside lamp and looked around her room. Nothing looks different. Everything looks the same. Shrugging off her unease, she crossed the room to her bathroom.

As she washed her face to calm her nerves down, she heard something. A whisper of a movement in her bedroom. With her face dripping wet, she went back to her room and looked around again. Again, she saw nothing. Everything was the same and all was quiet.

Damn, girl, she thought, you have one heck of an imagination.

She went back to her bathroom, took her towel, and started to wipe her face dry in front of the mirror. And that’s when she saw it. Two tiny marks on the side of her throat. Not fresh wounds but still a little red.

She leaned in closer and tried to examine them. They looked like insect bites except they weren’t swollen. She was afraid to touch them for fear that she’d irritate them. And that’s when her dream came back to her in flashes.

Red eyes. Face of a god. Body of a god. Blocking her way home, a narrow street by the park.

Damn, why did I take this stupid shortcut.

As she looked at this terrifyingly handsome man, she realized that she can’t move or scream. Her legs seemed to be glued to the ground and her mouth sewn shut.

Oh my god!

And that’s when the god started to move towards her. His long legs closing the distance between them one meter at a time. As he closed in she suddenly realized that she wanted whatever is about to happen. That she would give him anything he asked of her. So, she just stood there and stared at the sky as he pounced and bit her on the neck.

She moaned as she felt her blood flowing from her neck to his mouth. She moaned as she realized that her blood is now coursing through his glorious body. She moaned and pulled him closer to her, silently inviting him to take more. An invitation he accepted as he crushed him to her. She went limp in his arms as he continued to drink his fill. She has never felt this good and she did not want it to end.

Please, dear God. Don’t let it end.

A dream, she thought to herself as she looked at the marks again. It was just a dream. Shaking herself free of the dream, she turned to hang her towel but dropped it to the floor instead. For standing at the doorway was the god with the red eyes and glorious body. Smiling at her.



Posted: July 11, 2013 in love, short story
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I used to write short stories but, lately, I haven’t had the time nor the inspiration to do so.  But, I still like to share one of the few stories that I feel is good enough to share.

So, to my meager followers out there, please read the story below and let me know if it’s good or not.  It will only take a few minutes of your time. 🙂





i glanced at my watch and realized that i am 30 minutes early. guess i’m just that excited to be with you. i laughed at myself a bit as i look around our favorite coffee shop. you have always had that effect on me. you always made me feel that being with you is the most important thing in the world and everything else should take a back seat.

and i know that being with me has the same effect on you, i thought to myself as i look around. you have proven that once too many.

with 30 minutes to spare i decided to take stock of my surroundings. that old couple we have always admired is sitting, once again, at their favorite table. peter, the old man, is sipping his latte and mary, his wife, is having tea like she always did. it had always fascinated us how this couple had looked so contented with their daily routine. like they do not care what happens to the rest of the world as long as they are together. and, i have to admit, seeing them together like this never failed to awaken that little grren-eyed monster inside me. i mean, who wouldn’t be jealous of an old couple who is, clearly, still happy with each other?

so, with that green-eyed monster beginning to awaken in me, i took my eyes off the old couple and looked to my right.

and i was surpised to see that matt, the stud we always see with a different girl on his arm, is having coffee by himself. this is a first, i thought to myself. and this is also the first time i have seen him sitting at the same table two weeks in a row. as i stare a bit more i realized that he also has a different air about him. i remember how he used to remind us of a little boy with ants in his pants. like he could not stay in one place for more than 5 minutes. always restless to do something else or go some place else. and, as evidenced by his multiple girlfriends, be with someone else. but today he just looked contented with what he’s doing, which is drinking coffee and reading a book. and, as i look at him, i realized that things can change and that someone like him could embrace a routine just as the old couple had.

wishing him all the best in the world, I turned to look at our favorite barista.

anne is a petite girl who had always had a knack for guessing your favorite drink, even before you order it that first time you visit. yes, very Chocolat.

and this is the reason why we decided to come back that second time. to see just how good she is. then, we just got hooked to the place. with it’s cozy decorations, pleasant service crew, and interesting clientele. and, as i sit there, anne turned and caught me looking at her. i smiled and she smiled back. she raised her hand and sort of waved at me. but, i know better. she was telling me that i just have to wait for 5 more minutes. something she has always done ever since that fateful day. it has been a tradition between us and i have always been grateful to her for starting it.

i glanced at my watch and realized that the 5 minutes is over. and, like clockwork, anne was there by our table with our usual order. cafe americano for you and cappuccino for me. i smiled at her as she placed them carefully on our table thinking that this is one tradition i will always keep. she straightened up and, as always, patted my shoulder before going back to the counter.

i glanced at our drinks and my mind flashed back to that day, like it always does. i remember sitting here, waiting. our drinks going cold as i stared at them and wondered where you were, why were you late, and why haven’t you called. and, as time passed, it became apparent that you weren’t going to show up for our date. but, even then, i couldn’t get mad at you for standing me up because i felt that you had a pretty good reason for doing so.

the tears started to fall, as they always do. and i remembered how anne turned on the television set in time for the news flash that proved to me how you had always felt for me. you crossed the street in a hurry. you didn’t want to be late for our coffee date. everything else has always taken a backseat, even your own safety.

i reached for your cafe americano and stroked the handle of the cup. i never drink coffee anymore. it reminds me too much of what we shared, of what we will never share again. but, i vowed to be here for our weekly coffee date, always at our favorite table with our favorite drinks. hoping for that day when we could finally be together again.

and, taking one last look at our drinks, i picked up my bag, stood up and saw the old couple looking at me while holding each other’s hands. they smiled at me with pity in their eyes. i smiled at them because i know that they will treasure each other more now after that fateful day.

i passed by matt’s table and felt him look up. i smiled at him because i know that the change in him started that fateful day. he smiled back and reached out to touch my hand. i squeezed it for a second and turned to leave.

with my hand on the door, i turned to look at anne. she smiled and waved. i waved back and left, knowing i will be back again next week. same day, same time.