A MAN WITH NO HOME
Tell me, sweet stranger, do you know the story of Normant Lumensky, the man from a mystical land universes away from Earth? Making an ark out of his chains, he turns from a prisoner of war into a fugitive.
A WOMAN AGAINST THE WOR...
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THUNDER ROLLED OUTSIDE, spreading its clawed hands over the ugly city of ancient beauty. I stood by the window, watching the lightning and the storm. The sun may be arching higher somewhere in the sky, but all I could see from my hotel room was a canvas of dark gray clouds. Judging from the gloomy scenery, pouring rain was going to fall in a matter of hours. I did not mind. Athens could crumble today, and I still would not mind. I felt strong enough to put it back into place or walk away like nothing had happened.
Sitting at the little desk across from my bed, I debated opening the envelope. It stood there before me, bright pink and splashed with glitter, waiting for me to take it in my hands.
I did.
Opening the envelope with steady moves, I thought about capturing this moment and blowing it out of proportion. It would be romantic to tell myself that this moment marked the beginning of a new era, the moment I connected with the past to finally make room for the future. No. I did not want to think things this deeply.
I just took out of the envelope the yellow flash drive that was within and connected it to my laptop. It was borderline ironic how my life was being controlled by a bunch of flash drives that either sent me to Greece to search for thieves or made my stomach tighten with grief.
I shook my head, focusing on the screen, on the Microsoft Word document and the video that had been recorded a few days before my mother's murder, its duration something less than a full minute. I double-clicked on it. The thought passed through my mind, volatile and insinuating doubt, I'm not ready. But I knew better than to listen to the voices in my head, so I moved forward, pressing the play button, pressing my face to my laptop as well, eager to take it all in.
Despite the steady beat of my heart, the tears started flowing abundantly the moment I watched my mother in a light purple suit, standing in the middle of a crowded street, the sun shining on her. I had forgotten. But now I remembered. I remembered it all. The blue velvet ribbon she had always used to tie her hair. Her eyes sparkling with ambition and will and discipline. Her make-up simply perfect because she was a firm believer of always looking put-together.
"Is there anything you may want to add?" asked someone from behind the camera.
She nodded and said, "My sweet Jasmine, I know that this is not the gift you wanted for your birthday and I'm devastatingly sorry that it has come down to this. Something I've learned from all the years of doing this job is that when you choose the truth, you will eventually have to pay for it. In case that the price for this project I'm currently working on is the greatest one, I want you to know that it does not matter, that it is all right. I sacrificed a lot for this job, and you may find it stupid and idiotic and meaningless, but I loved every moment of it. I have come to believe that I did not sacrifice anything at all. My suggestion for you is to read everything that exists in the Word document. I hope you will understand. No . . . No, that's not true. I'm sure you will understand." She paused, looking down. "You have always been the only one in this scattered family that knew how to enjoy life, so I hope you continue on that path even after my death. I love you, Jasmine. I may not have shown it enough, but it is true. I love you forever."
