Hello,
It’s been a while.
Here’s a sneak peek at a novel I’m working on.
The Crucibe
Have you ever wondered how every day seems the same? The days flow into weeks and the months follow suit.
It’s amazing the similitudes of our lives. You wake up, wash, and have breakfast. If you have food that is. Hurry off to work. Then again, that depends on if you have a job to go to. Soon enough, it’s rush hour, you hurry home to cook dinner for the family, or pick up the kids from school or soccer practice. Hang out with your buddies and take a pint.
The days and weeks of our lives are like clockwork. A routine indeed. That’s why you notice the details that seem out of place. The little things that made yesterday different. A piece of news on the radio that changed the economy. An argument in the street results in a gang war. Bad news about a relative dying of cancer. A man was hit by a bus. The day Martin Luther king died. A church Bomb blast. A plane that disappears over the Pacific. A drunk driver hits your 15-year-old genius child.
Then those days are ingrained in your mind. Clear and unforgettable. Like a tick on a calendar. Those moments are burned into your memory.
My name is Maria.
I just killed my lover!
Scientists say when you do something every day for 21 days, it becomes a habit. Growing up, I didn’t know that. There were many things I did that seemed natural.
Maria means mother. When I was born, my parents thought l looked so innocent. So, they named me, Maria. Ironic. Those who truly know me always marvel at the contradiction between my name and me. The vast realities of the name a person bears and their fate. I guess that is where fate comes into the picture.
What is fate? Was it fate that I would meet this man on a cold, rainy night who offered me shelter? Was it fate that he was one of the continent’s richest men and just happened to fall in love with me? Was it fate that I thought I was in love with him for a while, till I realized my calling?
Was Ahmed a bad man? I wouldn’t call him bad in the sense of evil. He did have some parking tickets. Sometimes, he cut corners when it comes to business deals. Some would call that ruthless, not bad.
So, I guess he was a good man. He was just a piece on the chess board that had to be taken out. But he was not a pawn. Ahmed Abdul was no one’s pawn.
It was a neat kill. I grew up reading and trained in the sciences for some time. Detectives would say it was clinical. A perfect kill if I say so myself. A stab at his heart. I saw the shock and the pain in his eyes at a lover’s betrayal.
Strangely, as I pushed the dagger into his heart, I felt a rush. It was quite like any emotion I ever felt. Thrill! I wonder what it means. But I felt no guilt.
My name is Maria and I just killed my lover. Today was the first time I took a life. Is it the last time? Who knows!
Happy new year by the way.
Who knows what the year will bring?
Or should I say what I will bring to the year? Yeah, you heard me right.
Remember, I have a calling!
#writer #ghostwriter #novel #screenwriter
LettersfromZion 