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The Harsh Cold Winter. (Flash Fiction), by Manatita. A Dedication to Frank Atanacio

Author:

Manatita is an esteemed author living in London, UK. He writes spiritual books, flash fiction and esoteric poetry, his favourite genre.

the-harsh-cold-winter-flash-fiction-by-manatita-a-dedication-to-frank-atanacio


This was a very harsh winter and It was cold, bitterly cold. The Caucasian, grown pale from a lack of nutritious food, sleepless nights and grime from a run-down alley, pulled the heavy blankets over his head and tried to sleep.

It was a rough one, this bitingly unyielding January and the old man feared the worst. He had made use of all his leggings, his undergarments, jumpers and pullovers to no avail. Sheynani had survived many chilly winters, yet somehow, he knew that this one wasn’t going to be easy, far, far, far from a bed of roses for sure. How did it come to this?

Sheynani was kind, decent; a gentle soul, if ever there was one to talk about. Loved by his parents, he did well at school and got a great job at the University, where he obtained his masters degree. It was while studying there that he met his bride Ramona, a buxom beauty and one unfortunately, of the domineering kind.

She had an insatiable need for outer affluence and the company of the rich and famous. Yet she was as clever as she was alluring and Shaynani fell easily for her charms. They were married for five years, until Shaynani came home suddenly one evening and found that the house was vacated, with the wife and two children gone. They were never seen again and Shaynani never knew why.

From then onwards, he followed the downward spiral of many men. Hitting the bottle with urgency, stomach and liver both pumping day and night, he became a wondering nomad, finally settling in the alleyway, in which our story finds him. Begging for his daily needs and alcohol, he barely survived and was a sad sight indeed!

**************************************************************************

Shaynani suddenly felt a strange sensation as he awoke. Everything seemed surreal, ethereal. His was that of a naked silhouette, but he no longer felt the cold. Around him was an effulgence of Light, as he soared into a tunnel with some mighty strange beings surrounding and welcoming him. Down below, he saw a few concerned faces and two men in uniform, carrying his body on a stretcher to a nearby ambulance.

As he got through the portals of what seemed to be another realm, he saw a tall bearded smiling Jew approaching him, with outstretched hands. “Let us go home,” said the Nazarene. “Let us go home.”

This took all of a few seconds, until Shaynani suddenly realized, that he did not make it through the night.


Manatita, The Lantern Carrier. 16th September, 2018.

the-harsh-cold-winter-flash-fiction-by-manatita-a-dedication-to-frank-atanacio

Harsh Winters

© 2018 manatita44

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