Tag: short-stories

“In Cold Blood”

lazaruscarpenterauthor

Once upon a time in a cosy little town lived a terrier named Max. With his fluffy coat and soulful eyes, he was the very definition of a devoted companion. Max spent his days lounging in the sun, chasing squirrels, and, most importantly, keeping a watchful eye on his owner, Bob. Bob was an avid reader, often lost in the pages of a new novel. Today, he had chosen Truman Capote’s “In Cold Blood,” a gripping true crime story that had captured the attention of many. Max plopped beside him as he settled into his favorite armchair, his head resting on Bob’s knee. He loved these quiet afternoons, but today felt different. As Bob turned each page, his brows furrowed deeper, and his fingers tapped rhythmically against the book. Max tilted his head, wondering what thoughts were swirling in Bob’s mind. Did he feel the tension building in the story? Was he imagining the chilling moments Capote described? Or was he simply hungry for a snack? Max’s tail wagged, hopeful that Bob would notice and share a treat.

Bob paused, his eyes scanning the text as if searching for answers. Max could sense the narrative’s weight and the crime’s gravity, and his heart ached for his owner. He wanted to understand what Bob was thinking. Did he feel fear or sadness? Was he intrigued by the complexity of human nature? Or was he reflecting on the fragility of life, as the book so poignantly illustrated? Max shifted, nudging Bob’s arm gently with his nose. Bob looked down, his expression softening as he scratched behind Max’s ears.

“What do you think, puppy?” he murmured, a hint of a smile breaking through the seriousness of the story. “Can you believe people can do such things?”

Max’s tail thumped against the floor, a response to the warmth in Bob’s voice. He didn’t fully grasp the dark themes of the book, but he understood emotions. He sensed Bob’s curiosity mingled with discomfort, a cocktail of feelings that left an imprint on the air around them. Bob returned to his reading, but his mind wandered. He thought about the complexities of morality and the choices people make. He recalled the times he had walked through the town, greeted by friendly faces, and contrasted that with the chilling accounts in his book. Could anyone in their quiet little town harbor such darkness?

Feeling Bob’s contemplative mood, Max nestled closer, offering silent comfort. In that moment, he became the embodiment of loyalty, a reminder that not all was dark in the world. Bob glanced down at his furry friend, and a wave of reassurance washed over him. There was love and companionship, and that was something to cherish. As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue through the window, Bob closed the book, his mind still racing with thoughts. He reached down and pulled Max into a gentle embrace.

“You know, puppy,” he said softly, “sometimes I think about how lucky we are. We get to share this life together, away from all that chaos.”

Max responded with a happy bark, his tail wagging furiously. It was his way of saying that no matter how dark the world could be, they had each other, and that was more than enough. In the end, as Bob set the book aside and prepared dinner, Max pranced around the kitchen, his spirit unbroken and his loyalty unwavering. Together, they moved through their evening routine, a simple rhythm filled with love, laughter, and the promise of another day. And as they settled down for the night, Max knew that no matter what stories Bob read, their bond would always shine brighter than any shadow. 

Tenzin

lazaruscarpenterauthor

Once, a monk named Tenzin lived in a serene coastal village. Renowned for his wisdom and tranquillity, he spent his days in meditation atop a cliff overlooking the vast ocean. The villagers revered the sea but feared its tempests, which could sweep in without warning and wreak havoc on their lives. One day, a violent storm approached, threatening to destroy the village. The people rushed to Tenzin, begging for his help. Calmly, he descended from his meditation perch and approached the angry waves that crashed against the shore. With deep concentration, he began to chant an ancient mantra, a prayer to the spirit of the ocean.

Tenzin’s voice rose above the chaos as the winds howled and the rain poured. The villagers watched in awe as the turbulent waters began to calm. The waves slowed, and the storm clouds parted, revealing a serene blue sky. The ocean, once a raging beast, transformed into a gentle expanse. Grateful, the villagers celebrated Tenzin’s miraculous power. They believed he had tamed the ocean. Yet, Tenzin knew that true mastery came not from control but from understanding and harmony. He taught the villagers to respect the ocean’s moods and honour its beauty and dangers. Years passed, and Tenzin became a legend. He taught the villagers how to read the signs of the sea, how to fish sustainably and how to prepare for storms. Under his guidance, the village thrived, growing closer to the ocean rather than fearing it.

One night, as Tenzin meditated under the stars, he felt a pull from the depths of the sea. He understood that the ocean was alive, a spirit that demanded respect and reverence. He offered himself to the ocean, becoming one with its rhythms. The villagers found Tenzin’s empty robes on the shore, and though they mourned his loss, they felt a profound peace. From that day on, they sensed the ocean’s whispers more clearly and lived in harmony with its tides. They shared stories of Tenzin, the monk who had not just controlled the ocean but had taught them the art of coexistence. So, the legend of Tenzin lived on, reminding everyone that true power lies not in dominance but in respect, understanding, and love for the forces of nature. 

Orion

lazaruscarpenterauthor

Once upon a time, nestled deep within a magical forest, there lived a magnificent wolf named Orion. He possessed a sleek, silver coat that shimmered under the moonlight, and his piercing blue eyes sparkled like the stars in the night sky. But despite his extraordinary appearance, Orion carried a secret burden; he could not shed a single tear. While the other creatures of the forest revelled in the beauty of their emotions, Orion felt trapped within himself. His inability to cry made him an outcast, as his fellow wolves and woodland friends couldn’t understand his emotional plight. They believed tears to be a sign of vulnerability, but Orion yearned to experience the emotional release that tears could bring.

One day, as Orion wandered through a sunlit glade, he stumbled upon a wise old owl perched atop a moss-covered branch. The owl, Athena, possessed ancient wisdom and keen insight into matters of the heart. Sensing Orion’s sadness, she invited him to share his story. With a heavy heart, Orion poured out his tale of woe to Athena. He expressed his longing to cry, to release the emotions locked within him, and to feel a connection with his kindred spirits. Moved by his plight, Athena offered her guidance.

“Dear Orion,” Athena began, “the ability to cry goes beyond mere tears. It is the language of the heart, a gateway to understanding and compassion. But to embrace this gift, you must first uncover the source of your emotions.”

Together, Orion and Athena embarked on a quest to discover the key to unlocking Orion’s tears. They wandered through enchanted forests, climbed towering mountains, and crossed treacherous rivers. Along the way, they encountered various animals who shared their own stories of sorrow and joy, love and loss. As the journey unfolded, Orion began to understand that emotions were not a sign of weakness but rather an expression of his true self. He discovered that crying was not solely reserved for sadness but could also be a manifestation of happiness, empathy, and gratitude. Finally, deep within the heart of the forest, Orion faced his ultimate challenge, a mystical waterfall known as the “Tears of the Ancients.” It was said that those who stood before it with pure intentions would have their emotions released, allowing their tears to flow freely.

With trembling paws, Orion approached the waterfall. He called upon every emotion buried within him, allowing them to surge through his being. As his heart overflowed with a kaleidoscope of feelings, a single tear welled up in his eye, shimmering like a dewdrop. And then, with a sense of liberation, the tear trickled down Orion’s snout, splashing into the sacred waters below. In that instant, the floodgates burst open, and tears streamed down his face like a gentle rain, cleansing his soul and connecting him to the world around him. Word of Orion’s tearful transformation spread throughout the forest, and the animals rejoiced.

They recognized that emotions were not something to be feared but to be embraced and shared. Orion became a symbol of courage, teaching others to honour their feelings without shame. From that day forward, Orion’s tears became a gift, a reminder that expressing emotions is an essential part of the human experience. He roamed the forest, weaving tales of empathy and compassion, comforting those in need, and spreading the message that every tear carried within it the power to heal and unite. Children from far and wide would gather around Orion, eager to hear his stories and learn from his wisdom. They discovered that crying was not a sign of weakness but a testament to the strength and depth of their hearts.

Orion became a beloved character loved by many, guiding young ones through their own emotional journeys and encouraging them to embrace their feelings with open arms. As the forest flourished with newfound compassion and understanding, a remarkable transformation took place within Orion. With each tear shed, his heart grew lighter, and a radiant joy replaced the burden he had carried for so long. His once solitary existence transformed into a life filled with connection and meaning.

And so, the story of the wolf who could not cry, Orion, became a legend in the magical forest. It served as a reminder to all that emotions are a precious part of being alive, and that through embracing and expressing them, one can find solace, strength, and a profound sense of belonging to all that is and will ever be.

The Hermit and the Dog Wolf Abstract

lazaruscarpenterauthor

It was many miles to the valley below, though walking down the scree-covered mountainside was much easier than coming up it. Tired feet were a little sore because his shoes, being nearly as old as he was, were not all that comfortable. The soles had worn very thin, so small stones on the pathway tended to dig through and pinch his feet and toes while walking. Eventually, he reached the main path towards the forest, some two or three miles from the village where his destiny awaited a timely arrival. Tired legs trudged across a most uneven forest floor, calves aching with every step. Such discomfort in his legs always stole the beautiful sounds of the forest from his mind. The trees were tall and often so close together that they hindered progress. As he attempted to negotiate a way through a path strewn with roots, stumbling and nearly falling flat on his face, he heard the howl and whining of a wolf in the distance. Instinctively coming to an abrupt halt, the old man dropped to his haunches. Leaning down rather precariously, he used his right arm to support himself against an old oak tree. Again, he heard the howl, but this time, it seemed closer than before. Suddenly, through the undergrowth off to his right, he watched in awe as bushes and bracken parted with force. A huge dog-wolf stood in front of him.

The dog-wolf was huge with big blue eyes sunk into a deep-set stare. The old man and the dog-wolf stared at each other, their eyes met neither showing any sign of fear, not a flinch of muscle nor a wisp of hair moved between them. Motionlessly he stared into the wolf’s eyes and thought how frightened this beast of the forest seemed but how beautiful and majestic in his fear. His huge, sleek body hunched forward into a defensive stance. Massive paws and strong muscular front legs dug several inches into the forest floor, which allowed some idea of how heavy he was. A vast mouth quivered, snarling and slavering as great white fangs captured the old man’s attention. His slobbering tongue dribbled spittle on the forest floor as the wolf, standing ground, shook his great head from side to side. Hermit kept perfectly still. He did not even allow the sound of breath to rise from his chest.

The arm that supported him against the tree felt slightly strained from holding his body perfectly still; tired muscles twitched in spasm. The dog-wolf stood his ground, digging huge paws deeper into the earth. Around his great thick neck, a black and golden ruff was imprisoned in a thick leather collar. Attached to the collar was a heavy linked chain. The dog-wolf must have dragged these chains of bondage for miles through the forest. From wherever he had come, and no matter how many miles he may have travelled, these chains of bondage travelled with him. The free end of the heavy chain lay on the ground, and Hermit could not help but notice a dead tree stump caught in the chain links, adding to the weight this beautiful animal dragged on his escape. 

The dog-wolf was obviously tired, worn out and very frightened, and his beautiful body was covered in blood from old scars that had opened and new wounds which ripped at the muscular body as he charged through the forest. His chest was heaving with breathlessness, and an empty, lean stomach stuck to the bony rib cage, which protruded through his flesh.

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