Stories Short Tales

The Disciple

When Narcissus died the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it comfort.

And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of their hair and cried to the pool and said, `We do not wonder that you should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful was he.'

`But was Narcissus beautiful?' said the pool.

`Who should know that better than you?' answered the Oreads. `Us did he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on your banks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters he would mirror his own beauty.'

And the pool answered, `But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay on my banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes I saw ever my own beauty mirrored.'

The Doer of Good

It was night-time and He was alone.

And He saw afar-off the walls of a round city and went towards the city.

And when He came near He heard within the city the tread of the feet of joy, and the laughter of the mouth of gladness and the loud noise of many lutes. And He knocked at the gate and certain of the gatekeepers opened to Him.

And He beheld a house that was of marble and had fair pillars of marble before it. The pillars were hung with garlands, and within and without there were torches of cedar. And He entered the house.

And when He had passed through the hall of chalcedony and the hall of jasper, and reached the long hall of feasting, He saw lying on a couch of sea-purple one whose hair was crowned with red roses and whose lips were red with wine.

And He went behind him and touched him on the shoulder and said to him, `Why do you live like this?'

And the young man turned round and recognised Him, and made answer and said, `But I was a leper once, and you healed me. How else should I live?'

And He passed out of the house and went again into the street. And after a little while He saw one whose face and raiment were painted and whose feet were shod with pearls. And behind her came, slowly as a hunter, a young man who wore a cloak of two colours. Now the face of the woman was as the fair face of an idol, and the eyes of the young man were bright with lust.

And He followed swiftly and touched the hand of the young man and said to him, `Why do you look at this woman and in such wise?' And the young man turned round and recognised Him and said, `But I was blind once, and you gave me sight. At what else should I look?'

And He ran forward and touched the painted raiment of the woman and said to her, `Is there no other way in which to walk save the way of sin?' And the woman turned round and recognised Him, and laughed and said, `But you forgave me my sins, and the way is a pleasant way.'

And He passed out of the city.

And when He had passed out of the city He saw seated by the roadside a young man who was weeping.

And He went towards him and touched the long locks of his hair and said to him, `Why are you weeping?'

And the young man looked up and recognised Him and made answer, `But I was dead once and you raised me from the dead. What else should I do but weep?'

Cash Reward

Gone. It was all gone: the house, the car, the television, even her KitchenAid mixer. He was gone, too -of course. He’d taken everything. The only things he’d left behind were her sweet, innocent halves-of-him. She looked over at them fondly; sleeping so obliviously, so trustingly.

She ran a tired hand through her tangled, fried hair. It was really suffering from the cheap “shampoo” she had been using: watered-down hotel-labeled body wash. She’d just used up the last of the last of what could still be called suds, and had tossed it across the hole-ridden floor in a fit of depression. It sat spinning slowly, emptily.

It stopped; it pointed. The dim night light caught a glint just beyond it: a reflected surface mirroring shadows from a crack in the crumbled bathroom wall. Desperately curious, she crawled toward it. She pawed at the wall, dislodging bits of drywall, paint, wallpaper, and linoleum. They dusted onto and around the brushed metal cover of her possible treasure, or a possible hidden stash of contraband items.

But, no! it was treasure. It was an old steel cash box, stuffed to the brim with various bills. She hugged it, covering her old t-shirt and shorts in wall detritus; crying.