The Spider Lady and Other Short Stories and Poetry is sold out with retailers all over the world following the holiday season. Distributors are out so books are on back order. This is a Print On Demand book so more copies are being printed and are on the way.
Most sold book February 2020 #13 Printed Book #62 eBook Meistbestellte Bücher im Februar 2020 #13 The Spider Lady and Other Short Stories and Poetryhttps://diebuchsuche.at/mb.php
Perhaps it was the talisman but I took my savings and signed up to join the merchant marines. Soon I would be leaving everything that was familiar behind. People said I was still a young man so it was a good thing to see the world. I wrote a letter to my mother who was in the land bound town I grew up in, the place I left because I couldn’t stand the thought of always wondering what was over the next hill. This thought had vanished when I found the open sea stretching out before my eyes.
Before I was to leave I went back to find the curio shop where I had found the talisman. It wasn’t there. I traced my exact steps from the pier that day when I had encountered the little shop with the beautiful, oriental lady. I knew these little lanes along the waterfront by heart. I tried to find the corner I turned but only found the same familiar lanes and shops. There was no oriental curio shop. There was no vacant shop in its place. It was as if I had imagined it or dreamed it but the talisman was in my possession. I had it in my inner coat pocket. I felt delirious. Had I been lost? I wandered farther in surrounding areas but these places, also familiar to me, did not make sense with the memory I had of that day when I found the shop, the lady and the talisman.
With the merchant marines I traveled the world over and over. I realized the dream of mine to visit the South Seas and the Orient. This was only after many a cold journey in Northern waters to places like Finland and Sweden. I enjoyed England, France and the Mediterranean. My first storm at sea was the most incredible display of the power of Nature, beyond my imagination.
When I finally was bound to the South Seas of the Pacific and the Orient beyond I was overjoyed at the leaping dolphins in the sparkling blue waters. I was amazed by the flying fish skimming over the waves amid bright reflections. There were the hot, summer nights so balmy with the iridescent glowing spots of mysterious night fish. I felt in a wonderland.
And then there was the Orient. I found myself wandering down streets and narrow lanes in Hong Kong and Shanghai. These were places I had heard of and read about and I was there. It was like hundreds of Oriental curio shops. I was surrounded by them. Mysterious Oriental men, mysterious Oriental women and children. The children looked intently at me as I went walking by with mysterious little smiles on their upturned faces. When I went to sleep at night I thought of the dream I had when I first acquired the talisman in which I felt I was lost in a foreign land and could not find my way back. I did not however feel anxious about it as I had when I dreamed it. I was living my dream and everything was as it should be. I knew I would be able to find my way home or at least I thought I was sure of that.
I tried to stay in the Orient for as long as I could but my contract with the shipping company that had brought me there required for me to continue on to India and Africa. In fact I was to circumvent the globe returning to the cold Atlantic and ending my journey on the east coast of America.
From there I spent time traveling and living in parts of America I had not known before. I had many adventures and fulfilled a dream of visiting the East coast and learning of it. However since the only way I could make my living was as a sailor I had to find a ship that needed a hired hand. Soon I was on my way to parts unknown. From Norwegian fjords to tropical atolls, from cosmopolitan cities to farming communities I satisfied my curiosities about the world and the people in it.
Everywhere I traveled I met the most beautiful and interesting women. Sadness came at last when I thought how none of my love interests stayed in my life. I wrote many romantic letters. I gave significant gifts. I had happy memories but in the end they all turned bittersweet. The more I loved a woman, the more fleeting she became. When I thought of all the possessions I had lost along the way in my travels curiously the talisman had always remained.
A few months went by and I didn’t hear anything concerning the spider lady. A little after five in the afternoon one day I got a call at a doctor’s office. I had never been there before. I was impressed when I read on the sign that was next to the door of the office that it was a woman doctor who was a naturopathic doctor.
A very pretty, young, brunette woman who was close to my own age at the reception desk smiled. She seemed especially friendly and cheerful. She said she would go get the person who called for the taxi. She returned and smiling she said, “She’ll be just a minute.” There were women and children in the waiting room. Then I saw her in the semi-darkness of the room approaching me. It was the spider lady. She was wearing a long, dark print dress.
I went to open the back door of the taxi
for her and she said she wanted to sit in the front so I opened the front
passenger door for her. As we were
riding along I thought how strange that we were riding in a car together with
daylight all around on a warm, sunny afternoon with a touch of coolness in the
air. She seemed calm, patient, relaxed
and humble. She was gazing off into
space. She sat in her long, dark print
dress with her arms resting on her lap.
Her wrists and hands were placed just above her knees, her palms
up. Her fingers were delicately curved
as if she was posing in a peaceful, serene and beautiful position.
Then I saw it! On both of her wrists were plastic, stick-on
bandages. I kept looking in disbelief
while she remained calm and serene. She
was gazing into the distance ahead with slightly lowered eyelids as if in a
surreal state of melancholy and peacefulness.
I looked again at the bandages in exactly the places on someone’s wrists
where a person would slash with a razor blade to commit suicide.
I looked at her face so calm, serene and transcendent. Except for glints of light that reflected from her eyes as we drove along she seemed motionless and in a state of relaxation. It seemed as if she had wanted me to see her bandages. She wanted me to know.
When we were on her street and getting
close to her house she asked me to stop a few houses away from hers. She said she wanted to walk the rest of the
way. I offered to get out and open the
door for her but she insisted on letting herself out. She reached for the door handle. She seemed listless as if drugged. I patiently pointed to help her find the door
The afternoon just before sunset was in a
golden glow as I watched her walking ahead of me with the skirts of her dark,
elegant dress swaying while she walked past the yellow and green lawns of the
neighborhood towards her own home. She
walked with sadness and serenity as if introspective. I never heard anything of the spider lady
I remembered I had told the cab drivers and dispatcher that no such spider that is completely black with a smooth, hard skin of that size exists in this area that I’ve ever heard of. It was larger than tarantulas which I have seen in Arizona and tarantulas are furry and brown. Was it just a spider? Where did those webs come from on the porch that I had just walked through? What was that smell of death? Did she practice evil magic and lure men to their death, murdering them in the belief that she could gain power from death like a female spider that seduces males to have sex with her and then devours them?
When I read in a magazine about how a man turned in Jeffrey Dauhmer, the serial killer, to the police because of smelling an unusual smell that made him think of death and then he looked into Jeffrey Dauhmer’s bedroom to see bed sheets covered with caked, dried blood it reminded me of the smell in the spider lady’s house.
Did I break her magic spell by writing a verse of poetry? Did she use poetry for evil, magic purposes to cast her spells and did I defeat her unwittingly because of being a poet myself? Was her seduction spell over me that important to her that when I used her own medium to break her spell she attempted suicide? Or is the writing and publishing of this story the final breaking of a spell that may have gone beyond the grave? At this point I know there are people who practice magic, both good and bad.
a sunny day but with a chill from the ocean when I was on a pier
looking at the ships and gazing out to sea. Lost as I was in thought I
turned and started walking with no purpose back along the wharf to the
narrow ways along the waterfront. Between the same, old buildings,
wandering, eventually my feet led me, as I was between memories and
fantasies, to the realization that I wasn’t sure exactly where I was. I
turned a corner down a narrow lane and a few shops down to my left I
saw the curio shop. I was drawn to the front window and looked inside
at all the curious items from exotic places, the teak wood boxes and
I looked at the door and started towards it. I opened the door and
walked in. I looked to the left and right consciously aware that an
elegant, oriental woman beautifully dressed in dark, oriental clothing
with dark hair stood behind the counter. She was gazing at me with
slightly lowered eyelids and with a small but curious smile on her
face. As I took a few steps within and continued to look about I was
drawn more toward her than to all the ivory, beads and exotic décor I
was seeing. I started to walk toward her. She seemed so serene, calm
and wise. There was a light in her dark eyes and she had a knowing smile. She was very beautiful.
We spoke for quite a long time about many things but I cannot remember what was spoken. My eyes fell upon the talisman beneath the glass counter top. I asked her about it. She reached under the glass counter top
and gently grasped it. She paused a moment and then gracefully pulled
it out from its resting place. Soon she was displaying it in her two
hands in front of me.
I took the talisman in my own hands with her soft hands brushing
against mine I felt the smoothness of it. There was something about the
craftsmanship of it and character and
the feeling of it in my hands made me feel an attachment to it, a
connection to the worlds within and without myself. There was something
about the perfect balance of it.
I purchased the talisman, said goodbye to the oriental lady and smiled
as I turned to leave. She smiled back mysteriously. I wasn’t sure why I
had purchased the talisman that felt so smooth and good in my hands. I
admired its craftsmanship. It had fallen into evening and began to
grow dark as I wandered aimlessly. Somehow my weary body made its way
to the tenement building I stayed in. I made my way up the outside stairs to my room.
That night I fell into a deep sleep and had many vivid and curious
dreams. I was in exotic places with strange and unusual birds and
plants. I was with foreign people who spoke very little but said
strange and mysterious things.
I felt I was lost in a foreign country I had never heard of and would
not be able to find my way back when I suddenly awoke. I could tell by
the light in the room that
it was already late in the morning. The talisman was still there on
the table next to my bed. I took it in my hands and walked to the
window. I opened the curtains and opened the window to smell the fresh,
sea air. I looked out beyond the harbor at the open sea.
Eventually my brother and I got over the ordeal once the game was done. Jimmy and John returned to seeming nice again. To my brother and me at the time it didn’t matter anymore. We’d made a new friend and got to visit his apple orchard and nice house. We’d played a game and lost but in the end we were happy. We’d had fun and it was a good day to us. I never returned to John’s house but Jimmy and John became the best friends of my brother, Daniel. My brother and Jimmy returned to John’s house often. My brother eventually became known for dominating when playing board games. He read the rules thoroughly before playing any new game and my brothers and sisters and visiting children in our own home were proud of him for his abilities. I thought of him as the king of playing Monopoly. He played fairly though. We had fun trying to beat him.
Once I was standing with Jimmy in his front yard, talking to him. His little brother, Donnie, ran up to him and started talking to him. Jimmy started hitting him over the head with a rolled up newspaper. I watched the expression on Jimmy’s face. He seemed angry and vicious in the way he looked at his little brother. Poor Donnie ran away crying. He ran off with his little brother, Ronnie. I must admit I did not know what to think.
One Saturday I went with my brother, Jimmy, Jimmy’s mother and Jimmy’s younger brothers to the Tucson public library. We went into the children’s section to look for books to check out. I found two books I wanted to read as I usually would at the library. When Jimmy saw I had two books he asked, “You’re only going to check out two books?” I noticed then that Jimmy had a big stack of books to check out. I told him I would only be able to read two books in two weeks otherwise I would have to renew books to be able to finish them. He took me over to the book shelves and started pulling out books for me to read and stacking them on top of the two books I was holding. I protested but he would not stop. I finally got him to stop it when I was holding a stack of seven books. I was mortified. Jimmy’s mom seemed to think this was normal. I only read the two books that I had originally wanted to check out and returned the rest of the books unread. My brother, Jimmy and Jimmy’s mother would ask me if I wanted to go to the library with them. They just couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to go to the library with them.
The family with the pretty, teenage girl who lived across the street from Jimmy had moved out. The house wasn’t vacant for long before a new family moved in. When we came to visit with Jimmy again he pointed to the house across the street which had a medium high, chain link fence around the front yard and told us to watch out for the boy who lived there because he cussed a lot and was very ba-a-d. Being from Catholic school my brother and I were sensitive to the fact that some public school kids could be very bad.
Sammlung von Gedichten und Kurzgeschichten mit Aphorismen und Humor. Illustrationen und Fotografien des Autors. Zu den Sachbüchern gehören Memoiren und das Schreiben von Träumen. Fiktive Geschichten sind, wie der Autor seine Gefühle ausdrückt, indem er Geschichten in seinem Kopf erfindet. Die Schrift spiegelt den amerikanischen Südwesten des Autors wider. Inspirierend für alle Altersgruppen.