dreamszilla

Phil Charter's character tells of the four generations of his ancestors that sustained the family restaurant in the heart of Jaipur. When they were younger, the boys drank tea before school and boasted how they would captain the cricket team or star in action movies. Now they dream of escape. I am happy to watch from the kitchen, hoping they see more than calories, grams and rupees on each plate. Above the kitchen door is a sign - hivado. The centre, the heart. I can't play cricket or sweep a girl off her feet and drive away on a motorbike. My heart has a hole in it, a literal hole, an atrial septal defect. I can't even carry a twenty kilo sack of basmati. The defect in my twin sister's heart killed her before she was born, so after four generations of strong-willed women, the family business and all the people it feeds passes to me. My heart may be faulty, but through these recipes, I'll share it with you. Pratiksha's Dal Baati Churma (c. 1920) She ...

Our daughter, Carol, died on July 3rd, 1980. She was 19 months old. It was devastating for us. We adorned her small casket with beautiful white daisies. Our family and friends filled the church with arrangements and lots of daisies. When we were married, we decorated the church with daisies, my favorite flower. Our niece and nephew threw daisy petals down the aisles before I walked to unite with my husband. The flower is beautiful yet stunningly simple, and I have always admired it. Everyone that knew us well knew about the daisies. I remember picking wild daisies with my children and being fascinated by how pretty the flowers were clutched in their little fingers. After the funeral, our older three children helped me plant all the daisies around the side of our house near their playset. I told them this would be Carol’s garden and that the blooming flowers would remind us that she was alive in heaven. Each day I would come home from work and go and look at the daisies, but they...

via American Short Fiction https://ift.tt/ezkHrWQ

A hotel chambermaid drops in for a quickie with Jesús while doing her rounds; by Ken Wetherington. The men watch me. I pretend to be unaware. They like my legs and the short skirt I'm required to wear. Their women watch me, too. They frown and glance at their husbands or boyfriends, trying to think of some way to reclaim their attention. Today, I pay them no mind. I'm ahead of schedule, and Jesús waits for me. I unlock room 405 and push my cleaning cart inside. Jesús is lying naked on the king-size bed. I undress and fall into his arms. We make passionate love. We have to be fast. I have many rooms to clean. After he has gone, I dust, vacuum, and change the sheets. I move on to the next room and the next. I see a young couple entering room 405 - him in his nice blue jacket and her in a smart yellow dress. She wraps her arms around his neck; his hand is on her ass. Lucky guy. I hope for her sake he's as good a lover as Jesús, but I doubt it. When my shift ends, I stas...

Things can change quickly. Palm Sunday starts with people laying palm branches, a symbol of victory, triumph, and peace, for Jesus as he rode a donkey into Jerusalem. It was an exciting day. Jewish people from all over the world came to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover. They were crying ‘Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!’ (Mark 11:9-10). Ironically, these same voices that greeted Jesus as Messiah and King would be the same voices that shouted ‘Crucify him!’ just a few short days later on Good Friday.) Most of Jesus’ followers believed the kingdom of God would come when Jesus entered the city. Even His disciples. They expected their Messiah to be a great political and military leader who was coming to set up a Kingdom in Jerusalem and set them free from the tyranny of the Roman Empire. But that was the people’s plan, not God’s plan. Things can change very quickly. In le...

In 1940, ex-con Rusty is persuaded by his old Alcatraz cellmate to travel to Nazi-occupied Europe for an unlikely criminal scheme; by Robb T. White. Mac "Fingers" McFarland did time with me on the Rock, so I was curious to hear what he had to say. "Rusty, how's tricks?" "So-so. I'm between jobs at the moment," I said. "Ha-ha, me too." That same cackle that used to drive me crazy in my bunk at night. He was in the cell to my right, while Tom "Skeet" Bradshaw occupied the left. "You hear about 'Dollie' Lloyd, you know, what he done last year?" Lloyd Barkdoll. Lloyd tried to escape Alcatraz along with three others from the same tier as "Fingers" and me. They didn't make it. Nobody's made it yet, although they keep trying. Art Barker in '39, two years after I got transferred, was killed. I heard from an old ex-con living in the Tenderloin say Art was still tying pieces of wood a...

via American Short Fiction https://ift.tt/zDlnP3B