Jan 02 2012

Damzo’s Review Forum

Published by at 2:09 pm under Review Forums

Please see the comments below. Thanks.

2 responses so far

2 Responses to “Damzo’s Review Forum”

  1. Damzoon 03 Feb 2012 at 10:30 am

    Ok thanks B.Mac

  2. Damzoon 20 Jul 2013 at 3:48 am

    Hello B.Mac it’s been a very long time. I’ve missed this place. Hope you don’t mind I would like to post a short story I wrote and see what people think.

    The title is “Butter Trails”

    Tires screeched and a car engine coughed, Uncle Benson drove into the neighborhood forgetting that it wasn’t a racetrack. Finally, he had arrived after spending nearly nine hours on the road; strange considering it was usually only a 3-hour trip. It had become customary for our family to visit him every year for his birthday, but this year Uncle, thankfully, insisted to come instead. Maya (my little sister) rushed to the door to welcome him and knocked down a set of mum’s ‘Kenyan antique’ miniature dolls. Naturally, mum demanded that I picked them up, and I did…making sure to cover up the ‘Made in China’ stamps on each doll. “Jacob! Jacob!” Dad called “come help with your Uncle’s bags”, to which I grumbled “coming Dad!” and proceeded to the door.

    Uncle Benson was dressed in layers, which was strange considering it was around 38 degrees outside. He wore a chestnut coat over a faded blue-green T-shirt that read ‘I dislike Milk’ and a pair of khaki shorts. He greeted me with a hug, interrupting my breathing for a second or two. “Hello Uncle!” I said, forcing out a smile that apparently seemed genuine to the rest of my family…either that or they just didn’t care. After usual greetings and such had been exchanged, it took the rain to remind us to go back into the house.

    Dinner was different. Usually everyone was required to go down to the kitchen to dish out their meals and then proceed to their respective rooms, but this time…this time there was a strange object that stood in the center of the kitchen. Apparently, it was a dining table, which on its own is nothing spectacular but the fact that it was present in our kitchen was a sight to behold. Mum signaled to pretend that eating at the table was commonplace, for some reason I guess she thought it would impress Uncle Benson. Dad and Maya descended from their rooms for dinner, and Uncle followed a few minutes later. He descended in turquoise one-piece pajamas with a pattern of yellow stars with tiny bears, and to top it off he wore a purple nightcap that resembled something Santa would wear. I sat agape, I looked around to get assurance that I wasn’t the only person seeing this spectacle but everyone else seemed to find nothing unusual about it. He made his way to the table and then we all dug into the assortment of meals that Mum only seems to make when guests are around. Lightning struck. Maya screamed but Mum comforted her. This prompted Uncle Benson to start the conversation “Interesting weather we have tonight, eh?”

    “Yes…very interesting indeed” Dad replied. Uncle Benson continued “Reminds me of something that happened to me back home…” He paused as Maya prepared herself for a story. I sighed; Uncle Benson had a knack for telling very extravagant stories of his ‘experiences’. Sure, when I was younger they were entertaining since they made use of my wild imagination, but as I got older the absurdity of the stories became so visible because I knew that they couldn’t possibly be real. These stories coupled with his general eccentricity made me a little disdainful toward my uncle, it’s vile of me, but I just felt that he belittled my intelligence with his actions.

    Uncle Benson continued “It was a stormy night just like this, I decided to take a walk to a store just around the corner to buy milk. On the way, I passed by a dark alley, but then there was a bright yellow light coming from there so I decided to check it out. At the end of the alley was a brick wall, however, there was a hole in wall through which the light emanated from. I peeked through the hole and was immediately blinded for a short while. The blindness cleared and I noticed that I was surrounded by butterflies.” He sipped water from his cup and then went on “These were not ordinary butterflies. No, these butterflies left a glowing trail of butter in their flight; they made beautiful patterns around me. It was so beautiful. But then the rain stopped and then they left, never to be seen again.” Everyone paused for a moment. Dad broke the silence with “Well that’s nice, Benson” and then he went back to his meal. Maya seemed to have been mesmerized by the story, as her eyes were wide open and her mouth wet with drool, which Mum tried to clean it up. Suddenly, I slammed my fist on the table, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. Dad let out a fart, hoping no one would notice. “Butterflies and butter trails. Is that the best you could come up with, Uncle?” I snarled. “I mean, if you’re going to come up with all this nonsense the least you can do is add more entertainment. Do you get some kind of satisfaction from telling these stories? Do you seriously think that anyone believes them? I-”

    “Jacob!!!” Mum shouted.

    The light in Uncle Benson’s eyes lost its spark. He stood from his chair, thanked my mum for the meal and advanced to the guest room upstairs. Three sets of eyes stared at me. “Ever since his wife, my sister, passed away he’s been different. You know it affected him deeply, those fantasies of his give him some comfort.” Mum stammered. Dad moved over to her to prevent an emotional breakdown. “Go up there and do what you’re supposed to do!” Dad shouted to me. I rose from my seat and went upstairs; in the background I heard Maya crying. I stood in front of the door to the guest room; my hand trembled as I held the doorknob. I was about to twist it open but then I stopped, something came over me and I just couldn’t swallow my pride so I just went to my room. I rested my head on the bed and I dozed off, temporarily taking my mind off everything.

    I woke the next day to find that Uncle Benson had gone back home. The days after that were filled with an atmosphere of unease, the house became quieter everyday and I became more distant. Four weeks later, news came in that Uncle Benson had suffered a stroke and kicked the bucket. Mum was devastated. We went over to his house where the funeral was held. I hated being there, my Uncle died with a horrible memory of me fresh in his mind. No one noticed me leave the house; I took a walk around the neighborhood to clear my mind. Something caught my eye as I wandered, the alley by the store that Uncle mentioned. Curiosity got the better of me and I poked around the alley, as I expected there was nothing magical about it except for a tube of gel in the trash that supposedly “Does Wonders for your Hair!!!” I was about to make my way out until I noticed streaks of yellow liquid that had dried on the wall; I traced the lines to a patchwork of wood on the wall. I pulled apart the wood planks, and was almost pushed back by the strength of the bright yellow light that greeted me. A swarm of butterflies flew out, painting me with streaks of luminous yellow liquid, I couldn’t move due to sheer astonishment. The butterflies finally dissipated, and the moment I regained control of my body I just fell to my knees and tears came down my face because I knew I was wrong. I made a mistake.

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