Today I’ve a freebie for you, if you fancy a free read:
Life has taught Marvis many hard lessons but he may be about to learn his most difficult lesson yet.
My short story ‘The Teacher’ is out at Forbidden Fruit Zine. It’s
‘technically’ a m/m romance, but the style may not be what most people are used to from me. Everyone who has ever read this story have constantly told me not to change a thing. They love the atmosphere of it. However, this was one of those stories where a suitable market place just didn’t exist and I feared very few would ever get to read it. A few words on what to expect. It’s a long short story, around 9000 words if I remember correctly, and there’s no sex. I never wrote this story to be ‘hot’ but rather emotionally painful. I want… ‘hope’ people will remember it.
I’m also delighted to announced that they took my illustration to go
with it. Yayyy. I don’t find much time to draw and hardly ever get to
use it for something such as this. I’m as pleased to see my little
drawing up online as I am to see my story. You can dig around in the
site (and I suggest you do as there are some great authors there that
I’m only too tickled to share the space with) or go straight to my
story or picture.
Here’s a little excerpt and happy reading! Shaz xxx
“You have a visitor.”
Why am I not surprised? He sat there, on the foot of his bunk — bare
boards raised from the floor on blocks. He supposed he should be
grateful for that, for not having to sleep on the earthen floor. He
kept his head lowered, his eyes to the ground. Another’s shadow came into view. Marvis could ignore him but there was little time left and things they needed to say. “Come to gloat, have you?”
At the sound of that voice, he was compelled to look. He lifted his
head a little, strained his gaze upward. The young man hankered down, clasped the bars. They spoke in soft tones and whispers. “Why, Justin? Why?”
“I didn’t think. You left me and I hated you. I hated you even before
Not expected, though … why? Surely, the hate should have been obvious. Marvis shook his head. It made no sense. “What did I do to deserve this?”
Justin flinched; the blue eyes looked down. “I thought it would be a
Marvis uttered a harsh sound. “You know better than that.” The blue eyes moved upward, gazed upon him. Justin looked almost shy.
“I was angry with you.”
“So you condemn me to burn?”
The young man smiled suddenly. “Ignorance,” he advised. “They know not what they do.”
“What’s your excuse?”
Now the younger of them shivered, and gripped the bars as Marvis
always used his cane, as a brace.
“And that makes everything right?”
“You hate me.”
“No.” He replied, surprised by the truth of his words. For the first
time since his incarceration, Marvis acknowledged the approach of
tears. “I love you. Whatever your reasons for this I can only guess
you believed them sound. I have to, anyway, or die crazed, utterly mad.”
Silence then, between them, but other sounds, cries and moans of other prisoners crept in to disturb the peace. Such as Marvis sat in a cell alone solely confined for his own protection so that his flesh would go unscathed into the flames.
“Why, Justin? I have to know. You have to tell me. You must be able to find the words, decipher the emotions, after everything I’ve taught you.”
He looked at Justin, paid witness to the young man’s tears, revelled
Sharon Maria Bidwell
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