Short Story

Sunday, February 20, 2011


Sheyla Gardens is sitting quietly near a meandering river sipping some tea her mother had made for her. She is a young girl of no more than 14, she wears a long, beautiful, flowing dress which lightly outlines her figure. Sheyla has lovely brown hair, which is tied up neatly underneath her shade hat. Her almond shaped eyes are a luscious brown. Though Sheyla prefers jeans and t-shirts to long dresses, her parents are high-class political figures and on occasion she must put up with wearing the fancy dresses, ball room shoes, a face absolutely coated in makeup….almost to the point where you no longer the true beauty that lies beneath. Might I add that the long, drawn out speeches they must attend are utterly boring at best. As Sheyla sits there she thinks back to simpler times as a little one, times when she could run and play as she pleased. Never a dress or skirt needed to be worn, a time when raggedy old shorts and hole torn shirts were an acceptable thing for her to wear. Times when she did not have to attend such drab gatherings, but rather a babysitter was called to watch her. When she could happily play with her best friend in the pastures till sunset. Things had changed so much sense then, since her parents had struck an oil well on their farm eight years ago. She and Kavon rarely saw each other much anymore, for now her life consists of being a picture perfect child, something that could ruin her parents career if anyone ever saw her with the poor farm boy, they mostly kept in touch through letters and phone calls, though there was the occasional secret rendesvous it there was never enough time to make up for all the time in between.
She glanced down at her long flowing dress and admired the smooth material for a moment, and thought to herself about how shocked Kavon would be to see her in a dress. Then she looked around at the flowing river and the trees. Taking a sip of her tea she sighed to herself, and thought about how Kavan would have loved to be there, and how she had no doubt that they would have waded through the water and clibed the big strong oak that was across the river...wether she was wearing a dress or not. "Oh how I miss Kavon" she sighed to herself again as she got up from the grass and began to head back towards the house.

Lust and Love

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

He meanders down a dimly lit road; his dark hood pulled over his head so that no one knows for certain who he is. He keeps his head tucked low, so those who pass by don’t recognize his face. With his hands tucked deeply into the pockets of his jeans, he’s got every bit the look of a shady, sly, deceitful character. He continues down this road a ways, and stops briefly for a moment, just before rounding the corner onto a well lit, highly traveled path. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a mask; quickly he places it over his dark, twisted face, making sure it’s secured before continuing. He is a master of disguise, and deceit is his favorite game. The name he goes by is one of shame, and humiliation, his name is Lust.

Having rounded the corner, his head comes up, and his face is no longer being hidden from view. He smiles at people as they walk by. He removes his dark hood to reveal a beauty no one ever thought possible. He chuckles a silent evil laugh to himself as those around him are fooled by what they see. You see my friend, not only does Lust love this game of masquerade he plays, but he has a favorite character. He enjoys nothing more then masquerading as the one called Love. To him there is no greater thrill than to have you held captive to him and then, just when your hopes are high, reveal his true self to you, and watch you crumble. But I have good news; there is one whose mission is to remove his mask forever, so that all will know who he really is. This one who will be the hero is called the Holy Spirit, but he cannot do so on his own, and he knows that. He brings a long one with him, the only one who can help undo what Lust has done, and his name is Love, yes, the very one that Lust mimics is the one who will help to open your eyes.

Holy Spirit and Love canvas the area in which Lust is known for dwelling, they seek him out, search high and low for any sign of where he’s been. And soon it becomes evident that though his trail is easy to follow, the mess he has made is not easy to undo, he has taken the lives of the innocent and he has broken them, built them up in order to tear them down. The air is thick with his promise of love, and the lies he has left behind him. The fear of trust is not easy to overcome; yet slowly but surely they begin to rebuild the wreckage left behind. And those who were hurt begin to take a stand, and join the crusade to reveal the true identity and nature of the one called Lust.
 

Lorem

Ipsum

Dolor