[Ongoing] A collection of unsettling or unusual short stories. Some have monsters, some have humor, some draw tears, some make you think, and some have artwork. Each is a revealing glance of someone's life.
Every writer has their own methods of comi...
Orginal story below, but you can find a completely revamped version in my collection "The Fall of Souls: and six other twisted stories about unlikable people", available on Amazon!
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All I wanted was some affection. Just that. From the only person who understood me. My mother.
I flew halfway across the world to see her. To confide in her. To have her assure me I was doing everything right and to not listen to the assholes bringing me down.
The airport was bustling, but I found the moron I hired to meet me. He was waving a flimsy paper sign that said “Liviu”. Just that. No title. No last name. As if I was his kid's classmate. Asshole.
“For the amount I’m paying you, I expected a little more respect,” I said, throwing my bag at him.
It landed at his feet, and he ignored it as he crumpled the sign and tossed it in the trash. “You paid me to guide you through the ritual, not be your valet. I’m only meeting you here because you don’t speak the language and we’d be late. Now hurry up.”
He walked away, and I glared at him as I grabbed my bag and followed. He got into a rusty green hazard of a car, and I wiped down the back seat with disinfectant before I sat, holding my scarf over my nose.
“You’re lucky, it’s not as cold as usual for this time of year,” he said in a bored monotone, as if on script. "Autumns here are usually—"
“Skip the small talk, Flora.”
“It’s Florin.”
“Whatever.”
It took two hours, but it felt like eternity cooped up in that sputtering, acrid coffin on wheels. We wove through undeveloped towns and up a balding hill, and I was glad I got out of this forsaken country before it brought me down to its level.
He parked and we got out, and I looked around at the dozen other cars. “Where is everyone?”
He pointed towards a steep and narrow trail. “Up. We should hurry, the veil opens soon.”
“You didn’t tell me I have to climb!”
“Well, I’m not carrying you,” he said, walking ahead of me.
“What about my bag! I’m not leaving it here to get stolen!”
“Then bring it with you.”
I cursed under my breath as I lugged my belongings after him.
The trail led to a stone cliff where twelve groups sat huddled, each whispering around a motionless body. We found ourselves an empty spot and I dropped my bag in a huff.
“Alright, now what?” I asked, pretending not to be out of breath.
“We’re a little late, the veil is already open.” He crouched down. “Lie here in front of me and give me the temblocks.”
