A story about Mina

Mina
Painting by Arna Baartz @ http://www.artofkundalini.com

Mina placed the last piece of cutlery on the table. It was part of an antique silverware set her grandmother left to her when she passed. Mina knew her grandmother would be delighted to see her using the set for a dinner party.

She looked at the clock, it was nearly seven and her guests weren’t here yet, her husband hadn’t returned home either and he finished work at five. This wasn’t the first time he had done this and he never had a real excuse for why not.

Mina didn’t mind, she didn’t love him enough to mind, she wasn’t sure if she ever loved him at all. She supposed she only really loved him once because he was interesting and unusual and would do things which surprised her, once he woke before dawn to climb a hill and take a photo of the sunrise for her so she wouldn’t have to wake up early to see it.

It was a beautiful photo but it was nothing now. Mina thought he was out there in the city with all the beautiful girls in the world, this would suit her just fine because then at least he would be interesting again. She imagined him, with his tailored suit and beautiful eyes buying a drink for a younger prettier and fun version of her.

She was surprised at how jealous she was; doesn’t he know that he can take me out and buy me a drink? If he would just tell me something interesting I would be interested. Since when did it become a wife’s duty to act interested in every boring thing her partner says?

Mina returned to the living room and picked up the phone to call her husband but there was no answer and she didn’t leave a message.

She collected his place from the table, Mina refused to be embarrassed by her husband again and would not satisfy her guests (who are ruthless gossips) with an unsatisfactory answer. Mina would lie and say he was out of town because if she could help it, he will be by the end of the night.

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Walking with Sprites

 

ARNA BAARTZ ARTIST
Art by Arna Baartz @ http://www.artofkundalini.com

“Alright, let’s go,” the man said to his little pup, and they walked out of the yard and onto the sidewalk.
It was getting dark, but the man thought he’d be back in time and you don’t need sunlight to walk your dog.
He was proud of how the dog was walking beside him and following his commands, he had never done anything well in his life, but he can train a dog.
He decided to take the back route home, jumped over a fence (the dog climbed under) and walked along the dusty fire track behind all the houses.
It was dark now and he couldn’t see a thing, each backyard was long and covered with trees and he wasn’t sure which house was his.
When he had finally given up hope, he saw a tall thin statuesque being in one of the yards. He thought he recognized it from somewhere, he approached it.
As he was moving towards it, the being began to sway and the very essence of it would flicker.
He called out, “hello?” and the being flickered at that and returned the greeting in a soft childlike voice and vanished.
It immediately appeared directly in front of him.
His dog ran away.
It was a beautiful woman; her features were sharp, and she was taller than anyone he had ever met.
She kissed him and told him to come back tomorrow.
He wouldn’t, he had a wife and he loved her more than fantasy.

Ben Needs Sleep

Artist- Joshua Ian Cowley
Artist- Joshua Ian Cowley https://www.facebook.com/acacia.k/photos_all

“A long time ago, you could see stars from anywhere on earth” Ben woke to a documentary blaring unreasonably loud out of his old TV. The speakers had busted a while ago and right now and like always, were crackling and popping under the strain of another ridiculous documentary about ancient times. The government continuously plays these ridiculous documentaries every morning as if they want to remind us what we missed out on by being born too late.

He is not sure why he turned his TV up so loud, he was a drinker and he was scared of sleep.

After the war everything fell to shit and the government turned into a shell, barely holding onto its last vestiges of power. Apparently he’s lucky that his house is fortified from the gangs and mutants of the night, but he isn’t so sure.

He still gets the occasional night terror from his days in service, perhaps they will never stop, perhaps that is the real reason he doesn’t want to go to sleep.

He doesn’t need rest anyway, his job at the mechanics isn’t really a job anymore. The new flyers don’t need mechanics, they just need computers. He can connect an analysis wiring loom in his sleep so he might as well do it, at least there are guards at work.

He climbs up off his couch with his head ringing and bumps the remainder of his speed, government issued, then slips into his mechanics overalls.

He limps outside and slides into his old Mercedes. Grizzled and worn, he looks in the mirror and grimaces, I am absolutely terrifying. He is sure the crew laughs at his old Merc but they would never laugh about it to his face.

Driving to work he wonders what it would be like to drive a flyer, they have those stupid wings, I’m sure they’re useless … I like to work on my own car, my own way, not this new age crap… what’s with the colour anyway? Beige? they got to be kidding themselves. Arriving at the garage he gets out, looks up and thinks, I don’t need to go that fast, the new flyers were zipping through the air like big beige flies and Ben needed to get inside.

He begins to open the door but it doesn’t budge, he is the first one there. Ben grabs the crowbar out of his boot and walks around the back.

The owner won’t give him a key. Ben knows why, vets are unstable and he has always been slightly unhinged.

Ben had a job at 7:30 which is in ten minutes and if the place wasn’t open by then he could lose his only commission this week. He finds the loose window and forces the bar into the gap, pries it up, he hears a click and climbs in, opens the connecting door, then rushes towards the roller door and lifts it up.

A flyer indicates left-down and drops into the garage.