Short Stories

 

 

 

Akram was sitting under a tree in the pasture near to the camps. He was counting the stars, which looked like diamonds twinkling in the darkness. Every night, Akram enjoyed making different shapes out of them: As a child, one of his favourite pastimes had been to sit outside at night with his grandfather, where together they enjoyed describing the different shapes that each constellation made. These memories were now the essence of his life, and it was one reason he liked this area of pastureland so much; it provided the perfect gateway to those precious childhood memories.

Read more: Shepherd in the City - A short story

A cup of tea.

When I finally made it to the city of Wilming, I had only  spoken to two other people. There was the border guard, who asked a few questions (very impolitely), and the taxi driver, who I couldn't get to stop talking, even though I couldn’t understand a word he said. Was he even speaking English? I tried replying to him making noncommittal noises, but ended up desperately staring at my phone, trying to give him a clear hint that I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. I needn't have bothered; he just seemed to like the sound of his own voice, and it didn’t seem to matter whether I responded or not.

The next person I met was the secretary at the admissions office, who brusquely gave me a huge pile of papers, brochures and forms to fill out and return the next day, ‘Don’t lose them’, she admonished, and topped it all with a map with a big red X showing me where my ‘digs’ were.  Before I could ask any questions she was speaking to the next student.  I tried to figure out where I was, and realised with a sinking heart my accommodation was miles away. I took a wrong turn several times, avoiding eye contact with anyone I met, and dragging my rather noisy and wobbly suitcase behind me, it felt as if one of the wheels was about to come off, maybe it was a sign of things to come.

Read more: New Beginnings - A Short Story

 

Nazir had been sitting in the park since morning. He was staring at the flowers, they were in full bloom, a welcome sign of the spell cast by spring. These brightly coloured flowers with their heady fragrance were enticing all the tiny creatures who had made their homes  in the shrubs, trees, flowers, and grass. Among these creatures, there were butterflies, all with brightly coloured wings, flitting among the flowers, each trying to outdo the other with their aerial acrobatics.

He had always been fascinated by the sights and smells of the park, here he reminisced about the past where it had seemed that there was peace, love, and prosperity all around.  He was particularly attracted to the colourful wings of the butterflies, and from time to time, he actually tried to catch one, but he never succeeded, they were simply too fast and too agile.

Read more: Butterfly Wings - A short story

Once upon a time there lived a mother who had two daughters. One was her own child, the other her stepdaughter. She was very fond of her own daughter, but she could not so much as look at her step-daughter without shuddering. The only reason for this was that Marussa, her stepdaughter, was prettier than her own daughter, Holena.

The gentle-hearted Marusa did not know how beautiful she was, and so she could never understand why her mother was always so cross with her, no matter what she did.

She had to take hay to the cow and milk her. She had to do all the housework, tidying up the cottage, cooking, washing, spinning and sewing, and she did all this work alone, while Holena spent the time adorning herself and lazing about. But Marusa liked the work, for she was a patient girl, and even when her stepmother scolded and berated her, she bore it like a lamb.

It was no good, however, for her half sister and stepmother grew crueller and crueller every day, because anyone could see; Marusa was growing prettier and prettier and Holena uglier and uglier.

Read more: The 12 Months - A Folk Tale

Evergreen tree

This happened a long, long time ago, when the cedar, the fir, and the pine still had needles that yellowed and dropped in the autumn instead of staying green all winter.

One day, in those olden times, a hunter went out into the woods to catch something for his tribe. He was the cleverest and bravest hunter of his tribe, but game was scarce, and so he walked and walked. He went farther than any hunter had ever dared to go, until he saw a bog so vast that no beast could have crossed it, no bird could have flown across it, only the frogs would be able to see what was on the other side, and they weren't telling. The hunter thought to himself: If the animals here can't cross this bog, what kinds of animals might live on the other side?

The more he thought about it, the more curious he became.e.org/images/stories/tree.gif

Read more: The Evergreen - A Folk Tale