1 & 2, 4, 5, 6, 7,
Nearly two months now, that I was trapped in this old shabby hospital in Bucharest. What did one of the doctors say? As God created Romania, he only had dirt, rust, desperation, and poverty left to work with. Someone muttered a genius response. It was the biggest and most elaborate shell game con that made this country survive another legislation period. Two sides of the same coin.
There. Romania in a nutshell.
As amusing as this forced holiday was, it started to bore me to tears. I needed to go back to my cave. The gravitation of the discovery cradled my mind day and night. I dreamt of Ostra. I saw Ostra in my mind. I thought of Ostra. It called for me.
So I planned.
I plotted. Continue reading “Black Door”
parts: 3; 4; 5; 6; 7;
Dirt rained from the ceiling of the dome. A deep rumble went through the cave. The Carpathians woke up. “Did you feel that?” Farnsworth couldn’t keep the scare out of his voice. Pathetic. A tiny earthquake was enough to get the man terrified. My flashlight illuminated the ancient pictograms on the basalt slab. This must be Ostra. “Let’s take some pictures, and go back!” His breath made little vapor clouds. Continue reading “Black Door (WT)”
Got no bats in my belfry, so I’m not superstitious. Nobody should be. I tell Ira every day I walk him to the theatre.
Fluffy feather-like snowflakes sail down from the grey December sky. The lighter in my hand spits and hisses sparks. The paper of my cigarette catches fire, one drag and my lungs fill with hot, dry smoke.
I thumb Ira’s number in my phone. It goes straight to voicemail. „Fuuu-it’s Ben. Again. Come on. I’m freezing.” The drama group will give me a chew out for this. Continue reading “Jinx”
He has me, as I enter my hotel room with my keycard. The cold steel of a blade presses against my throat.
Furniture lays on its back, like dead flies. Pillows are gutted, ripped apart. What a mess!
I bolt. But he yanks me back. Hard.
No chance to reach the door. I catch myself by falling to one knee. Who the hell is this guy? His fist digs into my ponytail and drags me back.
“OW!” He pulls me to the furthermost corner of the room. My back hurts. His grip in my hair is angry iron! “STOP!”
Why is he so incredibly fast and strong? I don’t even see him move! How is this even possible? As if I have no weight at all.
“Gomen nasai!” I stammer. My apology has no effect. Why is this happening to me? Where are my things?
Continue reading “Do I wanna know?”