Stories

It feels like everything in Orkney is made of stone, meant to last forever, and that includes the old stonework of Saint Magnus’ Cathedral. The structure is Romanesque, and austere, with heavy, sturdy pillars built of red sandstone masonry, the kind it takes four people to surround, a strange stone forest again, built by the hands of men. I returned to the cathedral because the heritage society do...

You sent me a dream when I was a child, Fiona, one of those weird dreams you don’t share, especially at that age, when nothing matters to you in the world, other than pleasing your parents. I couldn’t forget it, though, like I can’t forget any of my other dreams about you. Those dreams, they feel so real! So real! Like a second life unfolding, independent of this one. In the dream, I saw you stand...

The four-day festival was approaching the end, and after my friend’s departure I figured I’d better head back to Kirkwall and see if I can find more puzzle pieces for my study, but I just couldn’t face the stones again. Not yet. I headed north instead, not really sure about the destination, and followed the road until it reached the shore.  Living on an island offers one the unique experience of b...

”You shouldn’t leave Stromness before you visit Hoy,” the lady at the front desk suggested with a motherly demeanor which tried to restore my sunny outlook on life, now sunk by the sudden circumstance through which I found myself alone again. She smiled encouragingly, and pointed towards the pier, to the approaching ferry. “Hurry up, now. If you rush, you can get there before it leaves.”  She nodd...

Life looked a lot cruder in the harsh light of the morning, even though the festival performances continued through the day, and the city was bathed in the unmistakable humid scent of spring. I met my new friend in the lobby and we walked through the narrow streets, sometimes so narrow a person could barely pass through, braving the rain and listening to the music in silence, like an understanding...

The entire city was caught up in the preparations for the Folk Festival, so I had to postpone my visit to the heritage society, whose normal hours were restricted for the duration. I gave myself the excuse there is nothing for me to do anyway, so I might as well drive back to Stromness and enjoy the performances. I stopped at the Stones of Stenness this time, Fiona, trying to find a reference we s...

I ended up back at Saint Magnus’ Cathedral, with my nose buried in the old records, strangely comforted by the smell of old ink. It is amazing, really, the church’s archives go back centuries! After a few hours of being fully immersed in the lives and the trades of the people of old, you forget what century you’re in; you lose track of time altogether. Marriages, home deeds, conflict resolutions,...

The car trip to the Brough of Birsay led me through treeless landscapes, shy and soft in the sunshine, and filled with the bright smiles of wildflowers, a poem in white, rose, purple and green, laid down as scenery by a benevolent god. I stood beside them, with the wind in my face, trying to remember an older time, as if I’d been there before. But maybe those were your memories, Fiona, not mine. M...

I used to see this sea wall in my dreams. You can’t imagine how weird it feels to look at it in real life! I’m not really sure I’m awake right now, Fiona. There is an elusive threshold of weirdness and serendipity past which we stop believing anything is real, a madness of sorts, a sweet, addictive madness. Ever since I was awarded this research grant to explore your life and times, I'm in disbeli...

There are things we don’t talk about, and they weigh heavily on our souls. Who decided they don’t matter? Life is like virgin land. It only surrenders its bounty after we drench it in our sweat, tears, and blood. People squander their lives, energy, and purpose as if they don’t value themselves enough to live for real, instead choosing to take a backseat and yield the spotlight to some higher powe...

The authorities of Yavapai County had been looking into by a series of disappearances, going all the way back to 1965, when the leader of an archaeological team, Jack Mattingly, vanished without a trace from the excavation site. His disappearance was followed by several others, seven people in total, all males in their fifties, sharing an academic background. The police investigation into the miss...

Gwen dragged her feet through the desert, walking behind No. 5 to the tequila barrel, when she noticed what looked like the corner of a trap door barely covered by dirt. She stopped to get a closer look and by the time No. 5 noticed her absence; he was too far to stop her from sweeping off the dust to uncover it. “Hey,” she waved at him. “Hey! Over here! I found something.” “Leave it alone, Gwen,...

‘That’s pretty,’ she thought when she picked up the little transparent pebble. Its deep red gleam looked spirited in the bright light of the sun; it felt warm to the touch, and despite its heaviness, reminded her of amber. She sat down on one of the flat rocks at the end of the white pebble path to study it at length, turning it on all sides, trying to figure out what it was and how it got there....

“Would you say she passed?” No. 4 asked No. 5. They both evaluated Gwen with critical looks, like project managers running through a punch list at the end of a project. “I don’t know. What other tests do you think we could run?” No. 5 replied. “Call No. 1, he might have some logical routines to run her through we didn’t think about.” Gwen smiled, insecure.  She was feeling very self-conscious in t...

During her morning walk, Gwen was surprised to notice one of the large boulders behind the house, in the place where she usually gathered the eggs every evening, was missing. Its empty spot looked unnaturally hard and flat, and upon closer observation, Gwen noticed, to her great bewilderment, that it was a poured concrete foundation. “Oh,” No. 7 spoke from behind her, “I see they finally took it f...

“What do you mean, I don’t understand,” Gwen mumbled. “Well,” No. 6 responded, “we know you went to Sunday school at some point, and have been taught this. Rejoice, you were chosen.” “Chosen for what?” Gwen jumped to her feet. “Just chosen. How lucky are you?” No. 1 joined the conversation. “Why aren’t you happy?” “Is this improv? Is it?” She looked around for a telltale glance. “Are we veering of...

“Ok, class, remember what we talked about, everybody must stay together now, we’re going to visit the archeological dig, you can take pictures for your scrapbook but always stay on the path,” Mr. Deerfield raised his voice above the unruly group who moved around him, agitated, like a tiny Lilliputian army. ‘Breathe, man,’ he told himself, already baking in the unforgiving desert sun. ‘Just breathe...

“What was that?” Gwen lost her footing, surprised as she was by the unexpected appearance. “Just keep walking, you’ll be fine,” No. 7’s usual rotten mood soured further, if that were even possible. Gwen didn’t want to get him started and have to listen to hours and hours of ranting about idiocy generously seasoned with phrases in languages she didn’t understand, but the sight, if real, was too sho...

The smoke was so thick Gwen couldn’t gather herself enough to understand where she was at first. She could feel the gentle touch of her guide’s hands on her shoulders, but she was still deep inside an inner world she couldn’t bear to leave. The contours of the house, so familiar to her by now, began to dissolve, putting her into a deep panic, no doubt enhanced by the effects of her ‘traveling’ tea...

“Do you believe her?” Jen whispered to Ted, eyeing the young woman with the gaze of a skeptic. She’d been a ranger for fifteen years, and during this time she’d heard her share of tall tales, although, she had to admit, not one that could hold a candle to this gals’.  Really? That was the best lie the woman could come up with? That she got lost in the desert and spent an untold number of years liv...

“Where are we on Act II?” “We’re still considering options.” “Do I need to remind you it’s two months to curtain? What options? We need Act II!” “And do I have splendid news for you! We opened it to the public and sponsored a contest, which was very well received. We have thousands of scenarios! I’m telling you we should do this more often.” “You opened it to the public!” The director got instantl...

“Whatever possessed you to do that?” No. 6 asked Gwen, with an appalled look on his face. The storm clouds had started gathering on the horizon, darkening the sky in the middle of the day to a dusky, stark intensity.  Here and there thick ropes of lighting put out a spectacular display, made even more impactful by the contrast with the gloomy background. “Do what?” Gwen replied, and the puzzled ex...

“What’s up?” No. 1 climbed on top of the flat boulder where Gwen had retired in search of solitude. To anybody else, she would have looked like she was meditating, but not to him. They were sitting cross-legged, a good height above the desert, and from their elevated viewpoint, they enjoyed the beautiful panorama of it at dusk. Gwen put a long pregnant pause between the question and the answer, on...

The next morning the room was an appalling mess: every object in it had been moved from its place. There were empty cups and glasses everywhere and above it all, the chickens roamed, agitated and making a racket. ‘It’s not even Tuesday,’ was the first thought that popped in Gwen’s head, and she examined it with detachment, surprised at how different one’s habitual thought patterns became to fit th...

Life doesn’t give you time to actually look at it except during extraordinary circumstances.  It’s in those gaps, those experiences that don’t fit, that you see its inherent strangeness. You notice then that things are never clean cut: the laws of physics have exceptions, moral imperatives have exceptions, even life and death have exceptions. One doesn’t see that when things are normal, whatever t...