the writeCast

Sybal - Part 4

Here is the fourth installment of my short story, Sybal. This story is taking me in a wonderful new and unexpected direction. I have parts five and six written in draft and hope to have them both out before the end of December. If you haven't read the previous parts, you can find the start of Sybal here, part 2 here and part 3 here.
Enjoy!
Michael Ianni-Palarchio

-------------------------------------------

Brady opened his eyes.

Knocking.

He’d been roused from sleep by knocking. The digital clock on his desk read 4:37pm. He wondered if perhaps Barrett had already found him. Rising, he rubbed sleep from his face and walked to the door. He pressed his eye to the peep hole and saw Clare standing there. Pulling the door open, he smiled broadly. She stared at him, noticing again how much he had aged.

“Hi,” he said opening his arms. She came inside and into his embrace tentatively. He hugged her fiercely, the smell of her hair filling his senses. “You left work early?”
“Yes,” she said holding him. He looked different, older, but he felt the same in her arms. His voice still sounded the same. She pulled back from him and stared into his eyes. They were the same; older around his eyes, but the dark grey-blue eyes were his without doubt. “I’m really confused,” she said.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he replied. They stared at each other in the silence of the condominium. Then they kissed.

Sybal - Part 3

Here is the third part of a current short story I am working on called Sybal.
If you haven't read the previous parts, you can find part one here and part two here.
I hope you enjoy this third installment.
mip

-----------------------------------------------

It had been ten years.  Unbelievable.

Ten years of wandering in foreign lands; deserts, mountains, densely populated cities to desolate abandoned towns long forgotten by their once present residents.  He and Barrett had covered thousands of kilometers in their ten years, and in all that time, Brady never once thought he’d see his home again.  It was an odd feeling now, standing outside of the condominium as the wind pushed at his back at the corner of Bay and St. Joseph Street.  Clare had given him the spare key to his apartment.  His car had still been parked outside the park.  For the small Honda Civic it had been only a night, but for Brady, a decade had dulled his sense of being able to drive and his driver’s license had gone missing years ago somewhere in the town of Mirohanté. The risk of being caught without the license now was too great so Clare had given him some change and dropped him at the subway that he rode in silence back to his condo. 

Sybal - Part II

Hello dear readers - I have been working away on my short story titled Sybal.  Below is Part II of this story.  If you haven't read part one, you can find it here.  I hope you enjoy this latest installment.
Ciao,
mip
-----------------------------

Clare arrived at the park, which was situated in behind a quiet residential neighborhood. Her mood was giddy at the thought of being with Brady and she smiled broadly as she parked her car on the street. She was a tall woman, slim and attractive. People were always captivated by her smile and the intensity of her eyes. The overhead sun fell flatteringly on her sandy blonde hair that curled in lose ringlets around the contours of her face. Smiling to herself, she made her way across the park and to the steep wooden steps that led down to their special place on the wooden bridge below. As she descended the steps, her face beamed even more as she saw Brady off in the distance. Then her smile faltered; her face puzzled. She could see that it was Brady, but he somehow looked different.

Sybal

Well dear readers, I've been busy working on a number of things and have decided to post Part One of a short story I am writing.  It is called Sybal and is a complete work in progress.  I hope you enjoy it.

---------------------------------------------

It had been nearly twenty days that Fenton Nilles had been on the move.  He’d received a letter from Byros Lincoln who resided in Blackrock by the Sea.  It was a job offer that promised to be rewarding for Fenton if he could complete the task.  He was confident it would be a quick piece of work for someone like him who had honed his skills over the years like a fisherman trolling familiar waters for the day’s catch.  For over a decade Fenton provided his services, not in catching fish, but in tracking down people who didn’t want to be found.  Over that ten-year period he’d brought in close to eighty people who’d been on the run, in hiding or in someway had ‘disappeared’.

For Some Reason - Part VI - Conclusion

Finally dear reader I have completed this short story called For Some Reason.  I merged the last two parts into a final ending.  I will let this story sit now for a couple of weeks, re-read it and then make a final edit to produce the final version.  I hope you like the conclusion.
This is a six part short story and you can find the beginning here.
Best,
Michael

----------------------------

Ten days passed.  From the night that Nigel Brinks was murdered, ten days had gone by with four fresh murders.  The city was gripped in an obsessive fear.  The police were at a loss with few leads.  Public criticism was high; the media like sharks in a feeding frenzy.  Charles had resigned himself to acknowledging that it could not have been Chris Fey.  They’d had him and the woman under constant surveillance and they’d been nowhere near the places where the murders had occurred.  Strangely, Chris had offered no premonition on the other murders.  Charles wondered if perhaps he’d decided not to help since they’d suspected him, or perhaps he lost whatever it was he had.   

The truth was that Chris was drawing near to the killer on his own, much to the dismay of Rachel.  She’d returned home that day and found him with his recent new purchases.  It was odd to see him using a computer, a glimpse of his former life before he left the business world and entered the world of basement apartments and tarot card reading.   He explained to her how he felt he could draw the killer out over the Internet, which was how he was meeting his victims.  She didn’t like it.  They’d argued. 

Ten days. 
Ten nights.

Now as noon approached, Rachel watched as Chris sat at his computer, his eyes focusing on emails.  “This one…,” he murmured.  Then he would turn over a tarot card.  He’d been doing that for days.  Nothing.  She watched, and worried.  He had become special to her, and she was afraid for him.  More so, he had grown somewhat distant. 

For Some Reason - Part V

Hello Dear Readers,
Find below Part Five of my short story, For Some Reason.  Two more parts to post and we'll be all done.  :-)  I hope you are enjoy this story....I am enjoying the writing of it.  If you haven't read the other parts you can find the beginning here.
Ciao,
Michael
-----------------------------------------------------

Charles Winchowski had a terrible feeling about Toronto’s 38th and 39th homicides.  They were messy, seemingly cold and calculated and similar.  ‘Serial killer,’ he thought dismayed.  And then there was the issue of Chris Fey, a man who was purporting to have seen the murders just before they happened.   After seeing the crime site and having forensics take a number of items and photographs, Charles asked to have both Chris and the woman, Rachel, brought to the station.  He wanted to question them separately. 

For Some Reason - Part IV

Here is part four of the continuing short story, For Some Reason.
If you haven't read the previous parts you can find them here: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.
I hope you continue to enjoy this work.  There are 3 more parts to come.
Ciao,
Michael

------------------------------------------

Morning came far too quickly for Chris.  His muscles ached blissfully from the love making the evening had seen, but his head was filled with fatigue.   He squinted his eyes against the morning sun streaming in through the windows and found Rachel propped up on one arm next to him in bed.

“You’re cute when you sleep,” Rachel said.
“I’ll have to sleep more often,” Chris replied rubbing his eyes.
“You mumbled a lot during the night,” Rachel said.  “Bad dreams?”
“Don’t think so.  Can’t remember really,” he replied.  He went to sit and a groan passed from between his lips.  “I feel like a truck ran over me.”
“What happened last night?” she asked.
“I think we had sex,” he replied innocently.  She laughed.  “What?  Was it that funny?” he asked with mock hurt.
“Come on.  That’s not what I was talking about.  What happened to you when I walked in last night?  What did you see in the cards?”
He shook his head, his face seemed to grow pale, his eyes unsettled. “We shouldn’t talk about it.  I…..it wasn’t good.  Ah.  I….I….you will think I’m crazy.”
“No,” she said kissing his mouth gently.  She had been scared of him when he’d done her reading, but she wasn’t afraid any more.  Now she was a part of him.  He had filled her with himself mind, body and soul.  “No, I won’t be scared,” she repeated.
“Someone around here was murdered last night,” he said flatly.  His eyes became somewhat distant. 
“Murder?” Rachel asked in a hush voice.  “Who?  Who was murdered?”

For Some Reason - Part III

Please find below the third installment of this short story, titled For Some Reason.  It is still a work in progress.   If you have not read the other parts you can find Part I here and Part II here. 
I hope you continue to enjoy this short story.
Thanks,
Michael
-----------------------------------------------------

Morning brought a brilliant sunshine that seemed to create a pastel effect on the neighborhood.  With the rising sun, the day found Chris emerging from his basement apartment for the first time since he’d arrived.  The warmth felt good.  The air filled his lungs satisfyingly.  He walked around to the front of the home and sat on the step.   As early morning birds sang and fluttered from ground to tree, Chris wondered about the cards he’d read yesterday for Rachel.  ‘I have to stop doing that,’ he mused to himself quietly.  He’d sat out on the step for the better part of an hour when finally he saw Rachel coming out of her apartment next door.  She saw him and stood still.  Chris got up slowly and walked over to her.

For Some Reason - Part II

Boy, life gets busy and I haven't had as much chance to post stuff here.  Alas, a new friend was looking at this site and was interested in finding out what was happening in my short story For Some Reason.  I had posted the first part of the story before and you can read that here. 

Here now is a bit more of the story which continues to be a work in progress amongst many works in progress.
Enjoy,
mip

----------------------------------------------------------

Chris  stayed inside for nearly three days.  A knock had come at some point but he’d remembered his silent promise and ignored it until the faint shadow moved from the door.  He’d eaten only once in the three days and slept for most of the time.  It was Thursday now and he’d awoke thirsty and stiff.  From the bed he staggered to the shower and let warm water run over him.  He stood sleepily in the shower and rubbed soap onto his face.  He let his open mouth fill with water which he spit out.   Slowly the fatigue washed away from him and he pushed the rusty facet off, the pipes in the walls shuddering loudly.  From the shower he walked back to the bed, dripping water all over the floor.  While toweling himself off a knock came at the door.  He didn’t move, but only stood staring at the door.  Toweling himself off Chris reached into his knapsack and pulled a fade grey pair of jogging pants and some undergarments.  He dressed unsure if we was going to answer the door.  The knock came again.  He sighed and went to the door.  Pulling the door open he wasn’t completely surprised to see Rachel there.  He said nothing.

Returning From The Prim

I wrote a short story in September, 2005 called Returning From the Prim.  As a part of my experimenting with this blog dedicated to my writing I am in the process of turning this short story in an audio part.  Twice a week, on Tuesday and Friday, I will podcast a 5-6 minute segment of this story until it is completely told.  Once it has been completely done in audio format I will publish a complete copy of the short story in written form as well.  Your feedback would be great!

To listen to part one of this story just click on the link.

Download returning_from_the_prim.mp3 or you can subscribe to the writeCast directly in iTunes by clicking here.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada License.