Stories of Odd

By Colleen Bell

Enter into the world of the human psyche. Discover a collection of imaginative and distinctive short stories and essays that explore thought and emotion. Controversial and embracing, Stories of Odd sheds new light on shadowy ideas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781312585607

Book preview

THE CHAIR

She sat in her favorite chair. It was the chair that she had lugged around from one place to another for years. It was the chair that she cuddled her three children in, the same one she found herself drawn to any time she needed comfort. It was big and cushy, like a bunch of pillows stuck together and resting on four legs. It sat in one corner of her bedroom. It was the only truly constant thing in her topsy-turvy world. When all around her was in a state of turmoil, it was there comforting and never changing. It was also the cause of the tension between her and David, her husband. How could anyone be upset about a chair? David was, but then with David it was always something. She went back over to the scene that had taken place just that morning. It played like a scene from a bad movie.

David was in their bathroom, brushing his teeth. He was probably brushing every single tooth individually, as usual. That used to intrigue her but now it was just annoying. How anal can one get! She was going through her closet trying to decide what to wear. As she was planning to wear her blue pumps the outfit would have to match. She could hear David moving around in the bathroom and pictured everything he was doing just by the noise he was making. She knew when he came out of the bathroom it would be spotless, as if no one was ever in there. That was another sore point in their marriage. She was tidy and she thought pretty clean, but David was fanatical. He always wanted everything just so and it had to be spotless. If she went into the bathroom, she knew she would find everything wiped down, David’s toothbrush in the first hole of the toothbrush holder, hers in the third one.

No use transferring germs from one toothbrush to another, he would say if she happened to put hers in the second hole. Then he would

move it to the third hole making sure he washed his hands after. What a jerk!

David came out of the bathroom and looked at her chair disgustedly.

That thing is germ ridden, he complained. I’m phoning to have it hauled away.

No, you’re not, she said decisively. Ever since we’ve been married and let me tell you it’s been the longest six months of my life; I have given into your fixations. But I’m not giving into this. I love that chair.

Well, you certainly seem to love it more than me. And I didn’t realize your life had been such a living hell. It must be just awful to live with a person who isn’t a pig, he replied sarcastically.

Are you calling me a pig? she yelled at him.

If the sty fits, I guess you have to lie in it, he replied with a sneer. David walked over to the chair and kicked it.

That was it. She couldn’t take it anymore. She moved across the room like a storm. She raised her hands and pushed David so hard he fell into the chair. David tried to get up as fast as he could.

The germs, he yelled in horror. Help me!

She could see he was having a rough time getting up. It was like he was stuck.

Something was happening. David was slowly sinking back into the chair. No, that wasn’t right, the chair was ingesting him. David was screaming now. She just stood there, watching, fascinated as the chair digested David. Afterward the chair looked brighter to her, more radiant.

Actually, it was quite beautiful and full of life somehow. She sat down in it. She had always liked this chair. It gave her comfort.

PEACE

The earth rotated and the sun fell from view. She stood on a cliff and stared at the horizon, where the sun had hung moments before. It was going to be a long night. The darkness deepened from blue to black. The bats flew out of their cave on their way to feast, their wings shattering the silence of the night. They circled her and flew off. Silence followed behind them.

The heat of the day dissipated, the cold crept around her feet and crawled up her body. Still, she stood there, looking to the horizon. The seconds ticked by. A wind came up bringing the stinging sand from the desert. It whipped at her body, taking little pieces of her as it passed. And still she stood.

She was alone now. No one came to see her anymore. Once she was magnificent. All came to gaze upon her beauty, to praise her. Then there was a big fire in the sky followed by a dry hot wind that she had not felt since. No one came after that, even the animals went away, nothing for a long time. The bats were the first to come, but that was many seasons ago. No person has come to sit at her feet, to feel the coolness of her legs. She is not as smooth as she once was, the sand has seen to that. But still… she stands… a monument to humankind.

And when the nations of the world erected her, they named her.

Engraved on the base of her feet…

…PEACE.

LOVE OF SWIMMING

I loved swimming. Always, ever since I can remember.

Diving into the water, that first gasp of breath when my head would break through the watery ceiling. Then I would dive again and explore the underwater world. The water surrounded my body like a silk blanket. I would stay down as long as possible, letting the air out of my lungs slowly and then following the bubbles to the surface. Lying on my back, just my face above the water, staring up at the sky. What ecstasy, sheer bliss. On this day, the day of my death, it was no different than any other. The water still felt soft and silky as I dipped my hands in it. It shimmered in the golden sunlight. I was so excited about diving into its depths that I started taking my clothes off as I was running along the dock. My pants were around my ankles and my shirt was coming off when I stumbled and fell into the water. The water was very deep at the end of the dock, but I didn’t panic. I was a strong swimmer. I tried to kick, but my legs were trapped in my pants. My shirt was pulled up, covering my head and my arms were trapped in the buttoned sleeves. I became disorientated and then I started to panic. I opened my mouth to breathe in air and took in water. My lungs filled with liquid. They felt like they were on fire. The searing pain moved from my chest to my head and my brain felt like it exploded. I couldn’t breathe. Imagine trying to get air into water filled lungs. The pain, the confusion, it was beyond comprehension. I was dying. My oxygen starved body rolled in the water. I was dead. The thing I loved the most, couldn’t live without, had killed me. Imagine that!

RAIN

It is raining to beat hell. I’m sure if the rain keeps up as it appears to, it will beat hell. I had left the desert to come to a rain forest. The dryness was too much for my lungs, I needed a little moisture in the air. The moisture was fine, but this was ridiculous. It has been raining now for two weeks straight, with no letup in sight.

I hate the rain and all the wet green foliage. I miss my beautiful dry desert. I grew up in the desert and the rich browns and yellows warmed my heart. If I closed my eyes, I could see the orange of the hills; feel the warm dry breeze flutter against my cheeks. The desert was almost odorless, and I relished the clean air. Opened my eyes again and reality rushed in like the swell of a river breaking over the dikes.

The forest was overwhelming with its assault of smells. Every time I breathed, I could taste the dying, moldy trees and leaves. The moisture, so craved for by my lungs, was repellent to my sense of smell and taste. Every little atom of water carried with it a new onslaught of repugnant odors.

The humidity was getting too much to bear. I felt clammy and wet all the time. Everything I touched felt of water. I have taken to carrying a hand towel