The Embrace and Other Short Fiction: The First Collection

By Adrian Kalil

The Embrace and Other Short Fiction: The First Collection is an original anthology of short stories and poems stemming from the fertile imagination of the author. Blending lifes rich experiences with fragments of conscious disinhibition, these eight stories and two poems represent the early and recent works of Adrian Kalil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 29, 2004
• ISBN: 9781477166604

Adrian Kalil

The author grew up in the Pacific Northwest, amid the dysfunctional vagaries of middle America, its families, and the unrealistic expectations of their youth. Through searching for the independence necessary for emergent survival, his energies initially turned toward commercial art, then psychology, then health sciences, where he remains to this day. Writing is a labor of affection for life, my own satisfaction, and that of my fellow man. Words in their finest are no less than exquisite gifts to each other. Most of my ideas have stemmed from dreams and, when interwoven with the continual involvement of the realities of life and mankind, the stories have found themselves. The works are a reflection of the constant and evolving journey we face. I hope the reader will be moved by and enjoy my efforts. Adrian lives in the woods near Portland, Oregon, in a home he built that quietly reflects his passions. In addition his full time job, the author is an accomplished swimmer and triathlete and now continues finish-line volunteer work at endurance sporting events, one of which inspired the title story.

Book preview

THE EMBRACE

AND OTHER

SHORT FICTION

The First Collection

Adrian Kalil

Copyright © 2004 by Adrian Kalil.

The illustration for the cover and title story is a detail from a drawing by Bartolomer Cesi (1556-1629) and resides in the Galeria degli Uffizi in Florence, Italy.

The poetry used in The Color of Autumn represents select excerpts from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot, c. 1917, and is used with thanks and gratitude to the estate of Mr. Eliot.

Back cover photo courtesy Robert Towns.

All rights reserved. All original contents are copyright of Adrian Kalil and remain the property of the author. Nothing contained herein may be used or reproduced in any form, print or digital, without written permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Although every piece of art and creative work remains, to a degree, autobiographical, it is important to remember that every circumstance and character in these works is fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or deceased (with the exception of the author and poet, T.S. Eliot), is purely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

25965

Contents

Acknowledgements and Thanks

EIGHT STORIES

The Embrace

The Storm

The Bastard

The Visitor

The Drifter

The Color of Autumn

An Unfinished Husband

The Window Upstairs

TWO POEMS

Adagio for an Autumn Day

Water for Wine

History

This book is dedicated to the kids.

You bring me such joy.

I believe that, on the whole,

love is a better teacher

than a sense of duty.

—Albert Einstein

High Praise for Adrian Kalil:

Ten talented new authors bring their tales to general fiction… Adrian Kalil’s ‘An Unfinished Husband’ is a wonderful love story…

—Writer’s Hood, May 2004

April 2003, I have read ‘The Woodsman’: I am awed.

You write beautifully and meaningfully, Adrian, revealing the depth of your feelings.

So well written. I can feel the forest, the morning air, and, of course, the pain of loss.

April 2004, regarding The Window Upstairs:

Shockingly beautiful and sad.

A very real and perceptive piece.

October 2002, regarding The Bastard:

Sensitively captures the trauma of an adolescent boy…

November 2003, also regarding The Bastard:

I enjoyed the tale. You… clearly have an ability for brevity without a reduction in quality.

The story was intimate, brief, and powerful at the same time. Very enjoyable.

The author has as ability to capture the heartbeat. Well done.

August 2003, regarding The Color of Autumn;

Adrian’s language is colorful and evocative.

Acknowledgements and Thanks

The author would like to acknowledge the support and encouragement of the following people during the creation of this first collection. Thanks must certainly go to:

Aaron, Ian and Sylvia, Greg, Chris G., Dee, Carmen, Jack, Tim, Jim and Donna, Bonnie, Liisa, Bill, Ish, my beautiful sister Lynne, Trina, Sally, Cynthia, Anne A. for her constant friendship, Dwight and Ellen, Sister Madonna for her unfailing support, Laurie, Jerry, Marlene, Anne L. for her presence and kind guidance, Rosalind, Deb, Jabke, Gail, Ward, and Jim.

Special thanks to Peggy M. for her tireless and selfless efforts, suggestions, and generous time spent editing and proofreading. You’re the best.

James, Michael, and Joan for being my inspiration and teachers unaware.

Charles Sundt for believing in me.

To those remembered and those forgotten, and to those who inspired characters and remain the driving force behind the words.

EIGHT STORIES

The Embrace

I need to tell you where I am and what is occurring. I have come a long way to be here in this vast and oppressively hot afternoon. Hours have gone by without a word, waiting for your triumph-song and a window into your spectacular, fresh heart.

Around me are others in a confusing mass of lost people; some alive, others near consciousness, yet all here to discover a part of that immutable joy I once felt, once knew, now a liquid memory that I visit, allowably through eyes not my own.

As one hour melts into the next, the minutes dripping in the restless heat, I tend to others and imagine your tired, warm skin in my careful hands. Through these men and their pain, their uncertain finality, and their distant victories, I can freely minister to you, not wholly, but as a quieting nightingale.

I have learned how to divert them from agony and disappointment, to touch their pulse and encourage their lagging souls away from death. In time, through me, their blood quickens to life, their hearts become calm, and they rest.

Not long before, and in another world, I lay awake in the black cold awaiting your return. As fear enveloped my confident awareness, I imagined what I would do without your warmth, your caressing laughter, your tender naiveté. I wondered what I might say to your fair beloved if that life would, at once, become unremarkable in your absence. I know I would hold her.

The light in your eyes brings a satisfaction unparalleled in all the familiar comparisons to any men. We ask so little, we give so much. At this moment, amidst thunder and life, so inarticulate yet remarkable in its simplicity, there is nowhere else in the world I belong. I am here.

So, here I stand, in your strong and unbridled embrace, in a crowd of a thousand people whom I will never see again, strangely comforted by the slow flow of passionate tears, speaking words that will never be heard (I am here), in the deep sunlight of a stunning California afternoon, and in the middle of a mortal river that will likely never run to the sea.

The Storm

Perhaps I should tell you where I am, for time moves more slowly without a heartbeat. I am at the first of three days of joyless celebration of my high school’s twentieth reunion. Right now, in this small, overcrowded, and noisy room are most of the people who were then a significant part of my budding neuroses. In this room are a great many of the people who held me in contempt or snubbed me through those