In a parallel dimension, just adjacent prime
Author: S. Alim Reza
Make stupid plans that fail
Then call it fiction
Or making lemonadeBehold! As I Conjure A Novel
From Thin Air!
Before Your Eyes!
Hell Mouth
You say Hell Mouth, I say wormhole
If you find this confusing or disturbing
Good, you should.
Lord’s Prayer
Our Father, who art in heaven:
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy KINGDOM come,
thy Will be done
on earth
as it is in heaven.
MOTTO FOR THE BOOK
I find it paranoid that people insist the world will end.
I also find it delusional to think that everything, forever, will be fine and dandy.
We’re living in a petri dish. Sometimes, the lab catches fire. Then it’s lights out for self-important organisms.
Anything can happen, it’s a universe of staggering variety.
Anything is possible.
Objective: Conjuring a Novel
Catharsis – to exorcise past pains and traumas from my memory – drudge them all up, make sense of them, and sublimate them into a piece of fiction
Ta da!
Perfect Peace [part 1]
Short Story
Perfect Peace
Originally Published in April 2016 Paul looked up from his magazine and over at Anne, who was reading a book in bed. “Do we really have to go to this thing tomorrow?”
She put her book down. “You promised the kids. They’ve been looking forward to a drive in the country like you promised. And you said you wanted to find ways to be more spiritual…”
“Well, yeah, I did. I mean, I do. But honestly, do you really think this hokey retreat is really going to accomplish that?”
“It’s a good place to start, Paul. It will be like a festival, with seminars on yoga and meditation and some famous yogis demonstrating their abilities. And the venue will be beautiful, at the base of a mountain. Maybe we can get some nice family photos!”
“OK, hon,” Paul said. “You don’t have to sell me on it, you had me at a day off from cold calling and open houses. It’s just that weekends are so busy, I had to rearrange a couple of meetings with clients to clear up the day…”
“I know, honey,” Anne said. “And we all appreciate how hard you have worked to build your business. But you have to make time for family activities too.”
Paul did know this. And he did also doubt how much any of them appreciated how hard he worked as a real estate agent, trying to hustle to survive and give his family a comfortable life.
From the outside, his job seemed pretty easy — nice clothes, a nice car, and so-called flexible hours. But he had made many sacrifices for his family, and now that his kids were getting older, the demands for the latest toys and fashion were wearing on his patience.
The “business” kept them going, but the wolves were never far from the door. And now he was giving up a prime Saturday for some yoga retreat.
“I’m sure we’ll all have a good time,” he said, smiling, and returned to reading his magazine.
Paul dreamed that night of fucking and fighting, of travelling and conquest.
He would wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes lusting after someone his mind could only hazily see, and feel his wife sleeping next to him and suffer a pang of guilt and regret that she was not who he had dreamt of.
He realized in the days afterward that he had fulfilled his dreams of falling in love and being surrounded by the love of his family, his own flesh and blood — the family they had created.
The wishes from his younger days had been granted, and he had been blessed beyond what many could ever hope for. Yet here he was, whiling his life away amidst the hollow feeling that it was all just a dream that would end any moment.
