Short Story: Galactic Confessionary part 3

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Levi shrugged off his coat as he stepped into the booth, considering the amount of times he had been here; he should have been given a discount at the door.
“Good Evening detective,” a cool feminine voice said in the universal language.
Levi smiled, “I thought this place was renowned for its anonymity, how did you know it was me?”
“Detective, you and I have never played games, let us not start now.”
Levi chuckled.
“You know that’s the most I have ever heard you say in one sentence, ruffled a few feathers did I?”
She didn’t respond.
Levi made a noise in his throat, “I apologise for the way my people treated your premises. I will have them put everything back as it was.”
“You are forgiven.” Was all the voice said in a monotone.
Levi was silent for a few minutes, he would never admit it to his men, but he loved the quiet this place offered, that everything he said was broadcasted into the surrounding galaxies did not make an impression on him. Once inside the booth he felt protected; even welcomed.
“The angels are…unhappy.” Levi began hesitantly, unhappy was an understatement, they were livid, but would admit nothing outwardly to the public, refusing to put any claim on the story that had been confessed last week. The Galaxy was in an uproar over what the unknown female had confessed, most believing it was a lie, others not quite sure such a scandal could even be true, even on a place like Hoxcer. But Levi had looked on his captain’s face and saw the truth. The female, a Rubarian native had spoken the truth. Levi had found nothing else out, but every bounty hunter, vigilante and not so concerned citizens was out for her. A reward for her safe capture had been set by an anonymous somebody, the sum so substantial several small planets could be easily bought. So Levi had joined the increasingly growing task force before anyone got hurt trying to claim the ridiculously large prize.
“These are Angels, even here on Hoxcer they are respected. Surely you would want to keep them safe.” Levi said into the silence.
No response.
“I know you know something about her, my instincts –”
“Your instincts?” The confessionary said softly in Ganzarian.
Levi cursed soundly for allowing something so crucial to slip. It always seemed to happen when he stepped into the booth.
“You are familiar with Gandour then?” He said quietly.
“They are a proud race, which you well know.” The confessionary said in the universal language.
Levi snorted. “Tell me about it,” he paused, “most detectives and private investigators have Ganzarian blood, our instincts are such that it is very hard to lie to us.” Levi confessed quietly to her.
“Interesting.”
“I’m glad you think so, now tell me about the woman.” Levi demanded in the universal language, conscious of the time ticking by.
“You know I cannot.” Came the smooth reply.
“Cannot or will not?” Levi countered.
“What do your instincts say?”
The question was asked curiously, not with the usual scepticism that he received at work. Not resembling most half or even quarter breed Ganzarians and having been raised on Orion, no one ever believed him when he claimed to have the gift most full blooded Ganzarians were born with.
“My instincts tell me that you are protecting her,” Levi paused, “this is personal for you, but why would it be?”
Silence was his only answer.
Levi smiled and stood up.
“I always enjoy our chats confessionary,” Levi put on his coat and slipped on his space helmet, “with or without your aide we will catch her.” He paused and when she remained silent he added. “This I so confess.”
“Listen to your instincts detective they serve you well,” the confessionary said slowly.

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Short Story: Galactic Confessionary part 2

Angel wing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ka’ya rested her hand on the smooth handle of the door for a moment, before stepping into the booth. She really couldn’t believe she had made it all the way here without being detected. Despite this she kept casting furtive glances over her shoulder as she paid. She sat down for several minutes in silence.

“You may begin at any time,” a pleasant voice said in the universal language.

Ka’ya jumped. ‘Calm down!’ She told herself sternly as she glanced at the partition, where some kind of illusion had been placed so the person on the other side looked like they had a fog surrounding them.

Ka’ya shook her head and took a deep breath, she had paid for an hour but she didn’t want to spend it breathing.

“I erm,” Ka’ya began slowly in the universal language and stopped as she realised her voice was shaking.

“There is purified aqua under the panel,” the voice whispered at sub level volume in Rubarian.

Ka’ya started, if the voice knew she was from Ruby then maybe…she looked up half expecting the door to be yanked open.

“You are safe here,” the voice whispered again in Rubarian.

Ka’ya nodded slowly as she lifted the panel and drained the liquid dry.

“Okay, well, erm,” Ka’ya began again, she had always listened to the confessions on radio and wondered why people would go there just to hesitate, surely if they had travelled all the way to Hoxcer then they could talk about whatever. Now of course she knew better, once the words were out then she couldn’t take them back.

She took another deep breath and began in a hesitant voice.

“I now believe in the concept of soul mates. I knew something was missing from my life but I didn’t know what, until I met the person who had the other half of my soul.” Ka’ya said softly.

“I am in love with someone I shouldn’t…well not shouldn’t but can’t be in love with. To his family, to his whole planet, to the galaxy no one is deserving of him…of angels –” Ka’ya paused as the confessionary gasped softly.

“I know it’s wrong. I am nothing in the face of a celestial being, but somehow my heart did not get the message, and nor did his. We are different species; we may look alike, poor replicas of angels of course but still incompatible in every sense. I understand the logic; I get the argument that has been had for centuries that angels cannot mate outside their own race. They are too powerful and too important to the balance of the galaxies.” Ka’ya said in a rush, the words flowing out of her rapidly and uncontrolled.

Ka’ya sighed. “Even here on Hoxcer, I mean no offense but even the most lawless place abides by that one rule. So what does that make me?”

Ka’ya pressed her hands into her eyes as she felt tears sting her eyes as she whispered; “My soul has mated with his.”

“By the Goddess!” The confessionary whispered in the language of angels at a sub-level volume that even Ka’ya’s keen hearing would have missed had all her senses not been on high alert for any sounds of approaching footsteps. She had confessed to consorting with an angel, the entire galaxy might be after her.

Feeling panicked by the outburst, Ka’ya gained her feet then realised she had paid for judgment.

“I so confessed.” She said hastily, wanting the entire thing to be over.

“I…” the usually indifferent confessionary seemed lost for words, which shocked Ka’ya even more and not for the first time she questioned herself on why she felt a need to share her story.

“I can place no more judgment than you place on yourself,” the confessionary said, “but know this; the soul is never wrong.”

Ka’ya stilled as she focused all her attention on those words. She was about to ask another question when she smelt it, a mile away at most, but they had found her, she needed to leave.

Rushing out she almost missed the words the confessionary spoke in Rubarian; “Don’t always believe the propaganda the higher angels preach.”

Short Story: The Struggle for Perfection part 3

It had been a week since her roommates had asked her down the pub, and she had made a point to purposely talk about eating food and actually be caught with food on her since then, but if anything this seemed to make things worse, like they saw right through her, and for some strange reason the idea made the tension in her chest ease a little, she didn’t want to examine why that was she just knew she felt a little better.
She was mid-way through her pre-work stretching routine that followed her normal workout when the door burst open and the owner walked in. Olivia’s first thought was that she could continue stretching if he just stood there with a surprised look on his face.
She had never gotten a good look at him, despite using his apartment to work out every day she avoided the pictures on his shelf and never used any room but the living room.
“Olivia?” He asked, his voice surprisingly deep and calm despite his evident surprise.
“Erm yeah?” She said getting up slowly.
“Are you using my apartment to work out?” He said taking a step forward; he dropped his backpack onto the floor, his gaze never leaving hers.
Suddenly Olivia felt exposed in her workout clothes, he was taller than she remembered and bigger too, he was also standing in front of her only route to freedom.
She glanced at the door and looked back at him, he seemed oddly amused.
“Aren’t you angry? Or going to press charges?” She blurted out.
He laughed and it was a deep throaty sound that had her smiling nervously.
“No, I kind of figured someone was breaking in, but since you never took anything, I figured you used it to paint,” she gave him a surprised look and he said; “you used to paint all the time. I used to see you on the bench in the clearing, always covered in paint, but you don’t do it any more figured you came here to get away and paint, it is getting cold.”
Olivia stared at him for a long moment, suddenly she wanted out of his apartment, she looked around for an escape.

Short Story: The Struggle for Perfection part 2

Olivia got to work on her post-work workout; it wasn’t as full on as her pre-work workout this one was really for toning her body into perfection. Everything had to be perfect. Unlike her morning workout, this session was quiet so she could get away with doing it in her room without her roommates kicking up a fuss.
She had just finished her last stretch when Jamie walked in, at almost six foot Jamie was all long legs and limps, she rarely if ever worked out and was still able to maintain her amazing body due the amount of swimming she did, her diet could be better but then Jamie who had always been slim didn’t care, she had plenty of admires wherever she went and it helped that she had a French accent.
“Hey, my darling all worked out? Drinks down the pub?” She asked, her make-up already done and her coat in her hands.
Olivia shook her head almost immediately.
“Another time,” Jamie said with a casual shrug then closed the door and left.
Olivia kept her position on the floor for a few moments before grabbing her towel; she had just exited the room when she heard.
“She’s tired from work.” Jamie said quietly.
“Sure she is, more like she doesn’t want us to realise that she doesn’t eat anymore.” Nick said.
Olivia held back a gasp; she thought she had been carefully misdirecting her friends whenever the subject of food came out.
“Look she is finally happy, we can’t begrudge her that.” Jamie defended softly.
“She was at her goal a few stones ago; someone needs to talk to her, before things really get out of hand.” Rainer said.
Olivia not wanting to hear anymore crept back to her room, she waited until they left before going for her shower, her mind oddly blank for a few moments before she realised that she needed to get enough sleep for her exercise tomorrow.

Short Story for Halloween: An Intruder part 2

Dark Street

Out of her backpack she takes out a bag of salt, every step must be calculated. She throws some salt forward as she takes a step forward; she skids a little on the slippery tile before she finds purchase. Not taking any chances but conscious of the time, she throws and walks, throws and walks.
She makes it across the roof; she has three more to go.
Focusing her mind and bracing herself against the dropping temperature she commits herself to her rooftop walk. It’s slow going but she makes no mistakes. The caution has cost her; she is seven minutes behind schedule.
Her destination is up ahead.
Sliding herself to the edge of the roof she crouches down and listens.
All is silent.
Protected by nosy neighbours by the extensive back garden she edges herself over the ledge, her boots skim the window and for a breath-taking moment she loses her footing. She forgot to place more salt, too late, she has both hands supporting her weight and the salt safely tucked away in her backpack. Legs dangling in mid-air, weight supported solely by her arms, she tries to feel for the windowsill. The edge of the windowsill is slippery and her months of exercising is being put to the test. She slowly lowers herself onto the ledge and grasps the curve of the window that’s been left open a crack before she falls back.
Not wasting a moment to consider her quick breathing, she inches the window open by small increments, it’s soundless, a previous visit oiling it into silence.
She’s inside the house.

Short Story for Halloween: An Intruder

Dark Street

She’s sure and steady as she picks up the final blade. The blade is light almost weightless and she marvel at its beauty; made from obsidian and sharpened to absolute perfection it’s lethal. She tucks it into the small of her back where a small holder she designed eagerly receives its prize.
Dressed in black, she merges with the shadows as she steps out of her front door.
The night embraces her like an old friend, even the street light seems to skirt away from her, as though afraid.
She’s mapped out the route a hundred times in her mind and walked the path even more.
Her steps are measured but rapid, her focus an almost physical force.
She’s nearing her destination and here things become complex, but she’s prepared. She edges to a side of a building readying her body, which she has spent months priming for this very day, success her only outcome.
The bricks on the building have been dampened by the rain, but again, she’s made provisions for this, and has been setting aside time every day to file away at the mortar so there are groves for her fingers in several buildings along the way.
With a steadying breath she places her fingers in the groves, her path clear she begins to climb, she works her way up with a cool efficiency which though expected surprises even her.
She allows herself an almost smile at scaling the four floored building.
Up on the roof, though away from prying eyes; is far more dangerous and the rain has added a new challenge to her balance.

Short Story: My Husband, his Mistress and I THE END

My Husband his Mistress and I pic

It’s been almost a month since my Husband’s weekend break with his mistress.

What he says still troubles me and I want to confront him about it, but at the same time I’m stuck. His affair is like a drug and I’m addicted. I like watching him come up with new and inventive reasons as to why he’s coming home lane. I love putting on my trench coat; yeah I went out to buy one, to follow him around. I’ve even had my car windows tinted. It’s all very cloak and dagger. I’m getting bolder with the hints I’m dropping him. I think he’s beginning to suspect I know something is going on. But I can’t stop and why should I stop when he can’t either?

“Hey my darling?” I say when my Husband walks through the door.

He gives me, what I can now recognise as a tight smile. I can’t believe I didn’t realise until he mentioned it to his mistress.

I watch him carefully as he goes over to the sink to wash his hands. He sets his briefcase on the table, takes his coat off, hangs it up on the fifth hook, checks the time then begins to wash his hands.

Something’s never change.

I follow him into the bedroom.

“What’s the matter?” He says in alarm.

I’m deviating from our usual routine; we normally have a ten minute conversation about our day before we eat dinner.

“Nothing, I’ve just missed you that’s all.” I say honestly.

“Vivian we can talk at the dinner table.” He says.

I sigh and walk to the door. I hesitate as I watch him meticulously fold the clothes he is taking off.

“You don’t like it when I say darling do you?” I say, unable to keep quiet about it any longer.

I see the alarm flash across his features before he is able to cover it up.

“Wha-what makes you say that?” He stammers.

I chuckle internally before I walk back into the room.

“But you don’t do you?” I press.

Marcus shakes his head very slowly an intense look on his.

“Then I’ll stop saying it. I’m also going to stop attending those pretensions lunches that the partners at your law firms wives like to throw, I’ll only go to the big events to help you.” I add, whiles I’m on a roll I might as well get it all out in the open.

Marcus is staring at me open mouthed.

“Thank you Vivian,” he says after a long moment.

“I just wanted to get that out there,” I say with a shrug before walking back to the kitchen.

I’m in the kitchen mulling over my victory when Marcus comes in.

‘O no!’ I feel myself panicking at the look on his face.

“I love you Vivian,” he says staring at me.

I relax.

“I love you too.”

“I didn’t realise you found the lunches so boring,”

“I would do anything for you.” I say firmly. “Even say darling, despite how much I hate that word.” I force a laugh trying to make light of the situation.

I can feel him starting to crack.

“Why didn’t you say anything Vivian?” He paces around the room in agitation, “all this time I thought, but…” He trails off.

‘O God O no,’ I think frantically, I’ve pushed him too far, I thought the sly hints I was always dropping would do it, but my honesty finally brought out his lie.