The Other Side

By David Anderson

In these two books of short stories, The Other Side and The Pareidolia Effect, the reader travels on a journey upon pathways where tales veer into sci-fi, fantasy, human torment, or even murder. In The Troxler Effect, purchasing an antique mirror in Paris may be a mistake that costs a couple their sanity and marriage. The Hairdresser introduces a short, chunky hair snipper named Murray. An interest in the occult leads him on a one way adventure to the shadowy side of human despair. Ancient Egypt's Gods still prove formidable foes in The Golden Statue Of Lord Carnarvon and The Return Of The Mummy. The latter written in the old style of the Masters of horror. A red neck Vietnam veteran in his twilight years, is offered a release from his disease - but at a price, in Youth In Asia. A woman's relaxing sojourn in a park is interrupted by a visitor that may change the world as we know it, in The Other Side Of Here. What if you knew someone was going to die in three days? Would you tell them, even if you had never met them? The Impetuous Epitaph provides the answer.
Many of David's stories have been written from ideas he perceives in his daily life. As a part time actor he sometime attends auditions, and therefore The Audition came to mind when he noticed the same man at many auditions. A man who nearly always got the role. What if you could find a devious way to kink his armour - would you try it? Of course David wouldn't - or would he? Brief respite with a few poems, and also stories on a lighter note, are included to help you catch your breath. Faeries At The Bottom Of The Garden introduces Elsie sitting by her backyard pond when she is visited by - well, we can't give that one away. A gift from a father to his daughter of an old magic set for her birthday, opens a Pandora's Box, in The Old Magic Set.
Returning to the dark void, In The Makeup Case, journalist Peggy Woodward's interview with gothic film and stage star, Olga Krahl, leads her to more than a magazine exclusive, while The House Sitters takes an English couple on a housesit in Sardinia on less than an enjoyable stay. Reviving old mysteries, did aliens visit Roswell, USA in 1947? An old farmer may provide an answer in The Roswell Incident. While a new twist on Jack The Ripper is suggested in The Submissive Assassin.
In The Phantom Spitfire, a pilot returning from an assignment over Germany finds there is another mission to complete before he can retire his goggles; many decades after WW2 ends. In The Second Coming, a visitor turns up at Woodstock, and two hippies argue as to whether he is really a bigger star than any performer onstage at the Festival. Or is it all a hallucinogenic dream? A magician and his beautiful daughter in The Great Bottini cause a night show host to lose his head in love. Is it an illusion or has he really lost it?
Two boys in a Kansas wheat field hold the future of the world in their hands in The RH Factor when they encounter two strangers, while a man sitting on his porch in The Pareidolia Effect sees a man hiding in the branches of a tree, and it consumes his every waking moment. Also in Incident At A Massacre, three horse traders around a campfire near The Little Big Horn, the night before the bloodbath, discover their friendship is about to undergo a trial that may end their camaraderie and uncover old forgotten wounds.
David hopes you enjoy these tales, and once again, pleas, beware of the unexpected.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: May 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9781925814231

David Anderson

David Anderson lives in Minnesota with with wife Rebecca and their Teddy Bear puppy Buddy. An avid dog lover his whole life, David has translated that passion into his writing. Growing up on a farm, David was exposed to all sorts of animals; raising Cattle, Sheep, Hogs, Horses, and Chickens, as well as caring for his families dogs and cats. "Some of my favorite memories as a child involve running through the pasture with my dogs, and lazy summer days spent lying in the grass with all the animals" Anderson said. "As a young boy I really wanted to be a veterinarian, and while I eventually chose a different path, my passion for animals never wore off." That passion for animals continued as he graduated college and started to make his way into the world. Mr. Anderson launched LP Media, a company that is dedicated to promoting and educating the public about the joys of pet ownership. The company started small, but quickly grew and now helps over a million pet owners every month. Anderson continues to write and search for ways to help other people who are contemplating the decision to become a pet owner. "My work is never done" he said. "I love helping other people and providing great resources that they can use to help better their lives, and the lives of their pets. I plan on continuing to create great products that help pet owners for as long as I can!"

Book preview

The Other Side of Here

First published at https://narratorinternational.com

Margaret Armstrong sat on her usual seat in the park, removed a sandwich and orange juice from her bag, and began reading a paperback. Now and then watching a few children play with their mother, she didn’t notice the young man standing near her until he spoke, causing her to flinch.

‘Hello. Do you mind if I sit?’

Margaret appraised the man, deciding he wasn’t a threat. It was a pleasure to escape from the turmoil of her fast-paced work and surveillance and choose for herself.

‘Be my guest.’

The man sat, opened his leather satchel to remove an apple, took a loud bite, and eat in silence. After consuming the fruit, he placed the core in his bag, and to Margaret’s displeasure started a conversation.

‘I like this park. It’s restful.’

Dragging her eyes away from her book, Margaret nodded in agreement.

‘It is. I find it a peaceful lull in an otherwise hectic schedule.’

Margaret hoped this response might motivate her new companion to allow her peace for the limited period she had to herself. The visitor crushed her wish.

‘Do you visit here regularly?’

Margaret closed the novel. Her harmony broken, she judged it better to chat than appear rude on such a pleasant day.

‘I work nearby and come whenever I have a rare opportunity. Are you from this city? Sorry, I don’t know your name.’

The man smiled. Margaret felt his eyes revealed a warm-hearted spirit; and in her profession she had learned to be an excellent judge of personality.

‘I’m named Elijah. No. I live in a place like this, but from the other side.’

Margaret found this a curious remark, neglecting to return her own name.

‘Other side? The other side of what – the USA?’

‘The other side of here. It seems odd, but I’m from a dimension parallel to yours. Everything on this Earth exists also on the other side.’

A twinge of panic licked Margaret’s backbone. Perhaps she ought to take her belongings and move away? Elijah sensing her anxiety, smiled cordially and carried on the conversation.

‘Don’t be afraid Margaret. You’ve nothing to fear.’

‘You … you know my name?’

‘Yes. I considered you an ideal person to warn of the threatening crisis.’

Margaret glanced at her handbag, knowing a Ruger LCP pistol was within accessible range.

‘You stated something will take place, what do you mean?’

Margaret thought it better to dismiss her companion’s parallel dimension raving and focus on his prediction. Keeping him talking might give her time to plan her exit.

‘Your planet and all life on it are due to expire soon, because you’ve reached the tipping point. The environment and population are way off balance.’

Margaret humoured her strange companion.

‘So when and how, will this situation take place, and can we fix it?’

‘I can’t gaze into the future. I simply exist at the identical moment as you live on Earth, but on …’ Margaret interjected with a smile.

‘On the other side of course?’

‘Exactly. But the evidence is your end is approaching rapidly.’

Margaret couldn’t believe she asked the next question, but it fell out of her mouth.

‘So you’re not an alien. You’re saying two Earth’s exist in parallel. If they are twin Earths, surely they’d both destruct at the same time?’

Elijah put his thumb and forefinger to his lips and stared ahead, pondering how to explain the complex physics to one who may not have the intellectual ability to grasp it.

‘We’ve been arriving here for the last two years. Our world’s people have distinctive values. You’ve suffered war, slavery, greed and over-population. These do not plague us. But, a sickness decimated our world two hundred years ago. We called it The Black Days. This disease of the blood killed ninety percent of the inhabitants, and so our Earth has a future. Sadly with a huge demise of loved ones and skilled individuals – but at least a future.’

‘Does your Earth suffer the environmental destruction we’ve inflicted on ourselves?’

‘No. It was invariably a paradise. We never suffered wars or famine and our ecosystem is as pure as yours was thousands of years ago.’

Margaret found Elijah entertaining, even if his story was insane.

‘So how did this happen? Is their religion on the … other side?’

‘Yes. Our Earth comprises many religions that worship God – or whoever He, or She is, within the multiple religions. None is thought of as superior. We have politics, but never fought wars over it. No country has ever attempted to force its dominance over another. If it wasn’t for the plague, we’d be like yourselves, and suffer the dilemma of over-population.’

‘So how was this possible? How did you avoid conflicts in political and religious interaction?’

Elijah pondered for a beat, then answered.

‘Imagine you prepare a special recipe, or sketch a portrait. One wrong dash of a condiment, or a choice of colour in a painting, could decide excellence or disaster. Our religion and politics resemble your own, but we reached perfection. In your case, it has lead you to misery and chaos.’

‘So we are going … off the rails?’

‘It may be too late to change. We persevered with the natural rather than selecting and relying on manufacturing systems. Your nightmare began with the end of WW2, when chemical manufactures switched from weapon production to agricultural commodities, such as pesticides, instead of warfare, and industrialists sold weapons for blood profits. We didn’t drop an atomic bomb on defenceless humans. It was never invented. We concentrated on other mechanisms of transport and fuel, and we found the answer for our energy sources in hydrogen fusion and the harnessing and storage of lightning and solar power.’

To Margaret this harmless man’s vision and conversation was fascinating.

‘So getting back to our demise. How will it happen? A comet – disease – nuclear war?’

Elijah stared at two birds, quarrelling over a morsel of bread. This skirmish displayed humankind on this opposite side, through millennia’s of conflict.

‘I’m sorry, we can’t foretell the future, but the scenario for your survival is futile. You are incapable as a species in identifying any resolution, and you are travelling into a gradual slide towards your doom. You seek peace, but your greed for power, and those you vote for or have dominance over you, are your downfall. There is a wide disparity between the affluent and poor. Your governments and religions are eternally at each other’s throats – choking hope of solutions or compromise. ‘

‘Then why do your people come here. To what purpose?’

‘To save you – or should I say – an insignificant fraction of you. The ones essential to our destiny.’

‘What qualities do these – ‘ones’ have?’

Margaret noticed two men a slight distance away, observing their conversation. At first she assumed they were security personnel from her office, but their dress was unique: resembling a white hospital attire. Elijah was oblivious to their observers and continued his narrative.

‘We do not seek religious leaders or politicians. We do not discriminate between wealthy or poor individuals. The qualities we are pursuing are from those attaining the highest achievement in their field. Dreamers of generous spirit; musicians and artists – actors – poets – writers – philosophers and scientists with vision. Research doctors – architects and computer engineers...’

Margaret cut him short.

‘Computers? That sounds a long way from my conception of Utopia?’

‘We are not establishing a Utopia. Computers are indispensable to create a society where everyone can learn, communicate and flourish. We lost many of our creative populace in the Black Days. Why squander yours to a doomed Earth? We can offer them a glorious future.’

Margaret saw the two uniformed males were closing in.

‘How will you get them to your … home?’

‘We estimate a thousand people for transfer. One hundred from the other side are here to arrange passage for the chosen. It is a painless, quick, and effortless procedure.’

The men now stood beside them as Margaret posed her final question.

‘Am I one of them?’

‘I’m sorry Margaret. No. I realise our talk is futile, but I thought I should warn your dimension of its coming demise. I really should have kept silent.’

Elijah gave a shrug of resignation and smiled at the intruders.

‘I’m ready for you Hale.’

Hale lay a hand on his shoulder.

‘You know you shouldn’t have annoyed this lady Elijah. Let’s go.’

Elijah nodded and turned to Margaret, his eyes mesmerising her for a moment.

‘I am sorry. But I hope you heed my warning, and maybe … just maybe, you could help to stop, think, and repair the damage.’

After hauling Elijah from the seat, and applying handcuffs, Hale smiled at Margaret.

‘Sorry Lady. We’ll drive him to the sanatorium. He’s late for his medication, and acting loopy.’

‘That’s OK. We had an interesting conversation. Goodbye Elijah.’

‘Farewell Margaret.’

Elijah held a cuffed hand towards her, and Margaret held it gently. A warm peaceful glow spread through her body like liquid tranquillity.

The trio strode across the garden and disappeared from sight behind a row of trees.

Margaret turned to pick up her book when she realised Elijah had left his small leather bag on the seat. She opened it for evidence of any address or cell phone, but found only the apple core, and a slim metallic cylinder with a pulsing orange light. Three coloured buttons ran along the side.

Cautiously pushing a button, a sound like the approach of a thousand bees swept throughout the park. Margaret’s body tingled; as if she’d touched a faulty light switch. In a panic she pushed again, before dropping the cylinder.

‘Ma’am are you OK? We’ve been looking for you. You shouldn’t be here unaccompanied.’

Margaret caught her breath, as two men clad in black suits and shades appeared before her: both concerned for her safety. She picked up the cylinder.

‘Come with me. This is important. Over behind those trees you’ll see two men in white uniforms with a shorter detainee. I want them brought here.’

‘But Ma’am, we have to retur …’

Margaret interjected harshly, repeating the order.

‘Caleb! I said bring them … fucking right now!’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

The two men sprinted off toward the trees, with Margaret in pursuit. Five mile runs every morning ensured she wasn’t far behind them. As she broke through a grove of trees, Caleb shouted a warning to Elijah’s guards; both towering over their diminutive captive.

‘Drop the weapon. I won’t say again.’

One guard held up a cylinder which began pulsating. Margaret raised her hand.

‘Caleb. Don’t shoot – that’s an order.’

Elijah raised his bound hands and grinned at Margaret.

‘They must take me back to the hospital. I shouldn’t have informed you of those bizarre things. As a former government agent I should have held state secrets to myself. They locked me up on the other side for saying I could help save your world.’

One guard laughed, tapping Elijah’s head affectionately.

‘He’s crazy for sure. I suppose he told you that rubbish about another dimension, and how your Earth will end soon? He’s done it every time he’s escaped from the mental hospital. Now can we go please? Our ambulance is just around the corner.’

Margaret glared the Elijah’s captors down.

‘Don’t treat me like a dummy. I believe he’s exposing the truth.’

Caleb touched her arm, expressing a tone of concern.

‘Ma’am, let us handle it.’

Margaret pushed him away and turned to offer a plea.

‘Take me with you. I want to meet your leaders on the other side.’

Elijah’s captor grinned at the pursuers and holding up his cylinder, pushed the button.

‘I see our work here is complete.’

The grove rang with vibrations as Elijah and his two guards pulsated and glowed. Margaret’s body tingled as Caleb fired his weapon. The bullets failed to penetrate the defensive shield: tumbling harmlessly to the ground. Margaret and her security team moved their hands to their ears to ease the humming, when it faded and the three strange visitors had vanished.

Caleb turned to Margaret for an explanation, but she waved him off and bade them to follow her back through the park to her seat. She placed Elijah’s cylinder into the leather bag. Turning to Caleb she smiled and touched his arm.

‘Thank you Caleb, I can always depend on you. Please don’t ask me questions of what just took place.’

‘Yes Ma’am.’

Margaret softened.

‘Caleb?’

‘Yes Ma’am?’

‘You studied theology once I believe.’

‘That’s right. I decided I didn’t want to do it for a career though. Is there a question Ma’am?’

‘There is. Can you explain the name Elijah?’

‘Theology 101. Elijah is a Hebrew prophet who they forecast will return to warn us before the end of days on Earth.’

Margaret stroked the crucifix hanging around her neck.

‘That’s interesting. Now back to the office – there’s important work ahead.’

‘Ma’am?

‘The destiny of our planet and every living thing on it exists in this metal cylinder.’

Margaret Armstrong, Secretary of State, and her security officers, walked through President’s Park towards the White House. Margaret was now convinced the ‘other side’ existed, but she was unsure if Elijah was a true prophet, or in his own dimension, completely insane. She held the precious bag containing the answer tighter, and decided that she, together with the rest of the world’s leaders, could ill afford to take that risk.

© 2014 David Anderson

The Portrait of Carmen Gaudin

Gaspard Lariviere stood back from his painting and held up an imaginary brush. As a humble artist in Paris, he was fortunate to have his artwork displayed in Siegfried Bing’s salon – Maison de L’Art Nouveau. But unless his exhibit was sold, he couldn’t afford to buy paints for any new works. Gaspard knew as an unknown, he would not receive a large recompense, even if his artwork received a profit. Meanwhile Jacques, his landlord, was demanding payment of his overdue rent in his bare one room in Bateau-Lavoir; a squalid lodging house in a derelict lane in Montmartre. Eviction was certain and Jacques would soon toss his penniless tenant to the sidewalk and the mercy of vicious street gangs.

Gaspard’s eyes observed a small oil on wood, on loan to the gallery. Carmen Gaudin was the woman in the painting. The artist had captured her elegance in a form that tore at Gaspard’s heart. Rage and jealousy poisoned his nights at the scandalous Cabaret du Néant, where the repellent artist of the portrait, together with his model Carmen, and friend, Henri Rachou, enjoyed the atmosphere and wines in substantial quantities. Meanwhile Gaspard sat with an inexpensive vermouth, trembling with lust for Carmen, until the waiter ejected him for his frugal ways.

Gaspard pulled his coat tight to his body and scurried from the gallery. The more to stop Carmen’s little painting from falling where he had it concealed beneath his cloak. His heart told him to keep the portrait of the woman he revered from afar. But his pocket told him he could generate sufficient funds to remain in Paris for a few more months, by holding the work to ransom. Rumour was that the artist came from an affluent family, and