You Are A Liar

An extract from my short story.

Enjoy! 🙂

You are a liar.”
That is Sarah’s inner voice which dreams one day to see the light. But she never allows it, for she thinks if she does, she would lose her intimate friends and many people in this world. And then, she may find no one to share her life with and end up alone, living in afar house with birds that can’t feign smiles or lies.
Sarah always looks people into the eyes, never believed in the spoken words. Always trusts the light that cones from deep within, it briefs all they feel and want to say. However, they can spend a lot of time weaving stories and lies that may help them to go in life…
She never kept anybody from talking, however, listens to the words and then her lips reveal a shy smile that mean “I don’t believe you, but you can tell lies as you like.”
Her narrowed eyes can filter the looks that pierce her small figure and innocent face with soft features. Her cheeks are always flushed, as if she is running the whole world from pole to pole. She hardly was asking frank questions, however, she easily can get the answers from the wide open eyes.
The world to her is a stage, and all people are actors. Some can act their role well, while others hardly deserve such role. Her wanderings here and there weren’t in vain; she set her mind to discover the world the way she believes it works. She considers looking life from behind screens is nuisance.
After her long wanderings, Sarah was afraid to fall in love with someone from this land, and then she would justify his wrong doings, behavior and lies, and finally her soul shall catch the same thing. So she kept her heart shut. Closed every trace to it, and kept her mind always awake to guide her further steps…



The Solid Roof

My story THE SOLID ROOF is featured on long story short as story of the month.

Here is the link

Please check it out and leave your comment.

Enjoy 🙂

From behind a shield

In a quiet moment, when you have nothing to do but bringing whole life into your head while it seeks calmness and refreshment. You try to clear your mind and pull some weeds that are annoying you night and day.

You suppose that you can dismiss them anytime you want, then sit in idleness once again after sometime of remorse over the lost chances and arguing about the main idea about life and so on.
Well, maybe it is a good hobby to carry on during holidays, but I am going to tell you my experience about that matter. So please unclench your fist and lend me your ears for a while:
Yesterday, when my soul was calm and mind was sailing somewhere else seeking change and something with new flavor, instead of giving up to idleness, I chose conjuring up my old feelings and unspoken words. To unchain them and let them feel free for some moments.
But to be honest with you, it wasn’t a good idea at all. For in that time I did not recall them gently, instead I welcomed them all at the same time and they answered me with great invasion.
For some time I held my breath; trying to concentrate on good ones and expel the others of no use that may overshadow the day.
Unfortunately, that way did not work, or even seemed to be; my head and heart became so crowded, with no spare place to add anything. Like a whirl, that started into my head and went through my whole body to foot.
I became so dizzy and was about to lose my consciousness. But by all my remained power, an idea cut through my crowded head and offered a faint light to my inner eye; to embody such heavy emotions, honor their impulse and ask them what they want to leave me forever and never knock my door again.
I applied that, and till now I am looking at them from behind a shield, standing row upon row, waiting my next move.
The rows become closer and longer, and I am standing without a slight idea about how to deal with them but holding the shield so tight.

the white ceiling


So wide and clear, still the best place on which I can stick my plans and detect my faults.

That is strange somehow; to find mystery within the white, but to me it is the full meaning of mystery, Just a point of view has to be changed.

Always my next move starts with a long look at the white ceiling. The only place on which I can spread my whole thoughts and memories, review them then can reset or handle the broken pieces. Put them in order and may find something fine and useful that was hidden among the clumsy memories which can change my way of thinking and forthcoming plans.

Sometimes I could point the defect and handle it with slight move, however, many times I had to collapse the whole puzzle to set it right once again.

Fortunately, there is a space that encourages your soul to pour itself with no worry, you do not have to confine yourself to a sheet of paper or erase what you wrote to keep your thoughts as they are under the table. It is wide enough to review your whole life and hid what you want within an imaginary room.

“Come on honey, dinner is ready.”
“OK mama, I am coming.”

And now I have to freeze the scene till I come back to continue working on my next move.
By the way, one of the white ceiling advantages, that it is already frozen.











from love to consolation

I decided to go for an evening stroll; it was cold and rainy day. I walked about one block when I saw him passing, or maybe he was waiting..
Anyway it was not the beginning of the story which already had begun years ago.
Now we were feet apart, but as if we were not sharing the same sphere, but to each his own.
In that moment many memories flashed across my mind and I was very preoccupied. memories were trying to nest on my head one after another like drops of rain,i could skip many but it wasn’t the same with the letter..

It was entitled with false barren words “I will always love you”, enclosed with a flower and broken pieces of fake love, that no more has responsibility to current life.
How bittersweets each word tasted!!
Ink was not a good idea to form such words, which only could be replaced with tears, to become more realistic and authentic.
Each word in that letter could tell the whole story, the story of yesterday.
The day in which I received that letter was so rainy, and clouds were obscuring the sky. My heart told me to go out and check the mail box, although I have a concept, letters are never worth going through the rain for.
But you cannot compare feelings during love story to normal life. Always, there are exceptions.
I began to read it thoroughly with shivering fingers out of coldness, then I wrapped my fingers around it so tightly; by the last word “..Goodbye.” I put my hand upon my mouth, in order not to utter a scream; the scream of pain and shock, instead, it went through my whole body and veins and then its impact was stronger.
Everything ended with no explanations, just like that..

when one chooses to leave, and the other has nothing to do but trying to cut the net of past lies and decode question marks which are wrapping him so tight pitilessly. Then heart has to sink deep away from eyes and sharp glances and mind takes control in order not to be blown away with the wind..

Our eyes met; eyes with no gleam, which mirror our empty souls that one day were sparkling with love and kindling with sweet feelings.
At moments of intense absorption, all other objects in the visible world seemed to vanish leaving me and him.
Couldn’t make sure that our bodies were there, but our souls that have a great curiosity and intention, so they can fight and go through dark passages to continue living.

After I had turned from the stroll, my nostalgia led me to search for that letter and the flower.
My heart could not be mistaken to lead me directly to its place or recalling the odor of the flower..
I picked it up and held it close. It seemed to me, then, that I experienced a strange sensation, almost as if I felt a burning heat which was one day heat of love.
But till yet, neither ink nor tears were dried, and the flower turned from a symbol of love to consolation..