Writer, Publisher, Retired

Tag: short story (Page 2 of 2)

Jesus

When I was a child my sister had this picture bible for kids, which had been given to her by her god mother. It was a large hardback book with many pictures and some chosen stories extracted from the bible such as Moses and the parting of the waves, some parables, Jesus and the feeding of the many, and ones like that. But what I mostly remembered it for was the picture on the front. The hardback book had one of those glossy front and back covers that tucked into the front and back book covers. On the front of this was the name and a picture of a young man in sandals and flowing white robes with a hand held out with long blonde or golden locks, a light beard and blue eyes. Behind him was a blazing sun that left a halo round his head.


I was sitting at one of the stone tables at Mr. Bow’s just off of Tanao Road looking down the soi past the dogs, motorcycles and the occasional worker who were drifting in and out of the shophouses. It was hot, but the sun was falling and the temperature would soon drop. For now, though the sun was blazing lower into my eyes causing me to squint and think of moving bench. But the benches round the table were taken by the others sitting with me, but they were chatting to each other. I was both alone and surrounded at the same time, but in one of those late afternoon thoughtful, quiet periods that hit you in the tropics just letting my mind run over whatever came into it as I looked away from the table and around where I was but not really taking in the run down shophouses, wooden buildings and greenery or the little alley off the side that led back to where I had come from.

At some point my wandering gaze caused me to look back down the soi towards the road that ran past the distant post office and barbers and on towards the cheaper guest houses where some of the growing African community stayed. There was someone coming towards me. At first, they were a silhouette or shadow with the sinking sun right behind them. The intense light caused my eyes to struggle at first. I squinted as little drops of water ran from my eyes. But this quickly passed and I saw the figure near with a vast light around their head. The closer they came, the more I saw. The approaching figure was a young man in sandals and flowing white robes with long blonde or golden locks, a light beard and blue eyes. Behind him the blazing sun still left a glowing golden halo around his head.

This was my first ever encounter with Jesus.

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Family

Nim was a family man. Like many poor farmers in the villages of rural Thailand he held strong beliefs. All he lived for were his wife, daughters, nephews and any other member of the extended family. Not a wealthy man and one who was blighted by every farming venture he tried turning to dust in his hands, but one who surrounded by family remained happy and upbeat.

Now a few years ago it just so happened that Nim’s latest venture into a new piece of farming machinery, or was it a new crop had gone disastrously and predictably wrong resulting in another pressing debt that needed to be paid off. It wasn’t a time of year when work was plentiful in Uttaradit, so being illiterate the only option was a trip to one of the building sites of central Thailand for months of daily toil until enough was saved to cover the lost farm investment. Leaving the family would be hard but having the family land repossessed would only leave them landless and forced to leave the village, so there was no option. Tum, Nim’s friend, recommended a site in Rayong in the industrial east of the country where they could both go.

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Cuz

I met Jenny Lawrence, cuz, while working in homelessness in a winter night shelter for young adults in Sydenham, South London. The shelter got an extended life beyond winter under a Housing Association, and it would carry on as a homeless shelter for a few years. The building was pretty impressive for a homeless night shelter. It had been the training dormitory for a bank previously. There were single rooms for each guest and the building was divided into two parts – one for men and one for women. There was a communal TV room, a large canteen with a large kitchen, a laundry and a store for used for donated clothes.

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Help

I knew Neil about twenty years ago. I did not know him well. I did not know him badly. He had had a long and interesting life and had seen dark times, but come out the other side a positive and kind person, which if you knew his story is quite an achievement. I was in my 40s back then and he a lot older and from a different time to me. He was now happily married and settled, doing a part-time job and was one of the people to help me with work, although now he was thinking of retirement.

I was sitting in a Pattaya bar with Neil drinking a beer, and he a coke. He had long since stopped drinking the grog as he liked to call it. He had asked me about what I had done before coming to Thailand and had talked about his life. We talked about the challenges of life living away from home. It was then that he told me this story, which had happened a few years before.

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