draft for my novel Iris Calathes , a fictitious spy novel , revision

draft for my novels Iris Calathes, revision II, grammar, syntax and choice of words an amateurish and fictious spy novel draft, I am not learned on the matter Aurélie Asséo Chapter I In June, the flowers bloom and are bathed by early summer sun. And people start going out and find pleasant things to do, like going for a stroll and some even start enjoying some time on the beaches early in the year, even in countries where mountains usually remain the favoured spot for a holiday. And this is the reason why Iris had chosen to stroll along the lake of Geneva, in the city. Iris would smile alone, a ray of sun lightening her big blue eyes and freckles, abundant locks of curly hair cascading below her shoulders, her hair extremely red and naturally flamboyant like real flaxen. She wore thin blue jeans, a colourful cardigan, she sometimes grasped and took between her fingers, pins she kept in her handbag and spending hours doing her hair, she achieved a magnificent top knot she called a Greek hairstyle. a beautiful woman embracing thirties with grace. Iris was a mysterious soul through the eyes of many. And with such a nice overall look she had she attracted both women and men, in an emotional and sometimes sexual manner. She was a very confident person with amazing and seldom skills: She had always been devoted to people as well as she always was passionate and feminine. Some had seen her as seductive and free while others had seen her behaving like a young caring mother. Did she possess a rebellious facet, a hidden trait, a character sticking like a magnet to her unique soul? Her very own soul which sometimes tricked her closest admirers, especially females, into believing she was playing a hot and cold game. Was she disappearing from anyone ‘sights? Really? Sometimes it seemed she was not truly doing so, that it could not have been her foil. However, it seemed she enjoyed reading people's minds with some distance, to read them better, some would say. Indeed, as surprising as it may seem now while you read this, Iris Calathes, was nothing but a spy and remained a Greek American spy but with all her genuine private life which this whole story is about. Maira Cornell was a woman who came to love Iris and as she will turn to become her lover she would see her as an embodiment of the Venus of the Ancient Times. As much as Maira was elegant and refined, she was frank and euphoric. She had intense; dark eyes and strengthened brows. She had a sort of stubborn sense of strength - Once she had been nicknamed «as bold as an Indian man. » The lake was stupendous and sparkling especially in midsummer where Iris would spend some time strolling along the lakeside on a green path of irregular terrain, and there was a fresh breeze which rocked the small fishing boats. Families were resting on the beach made of grass and small pebbles while ducks and majestic swans glanced, coming to the surface from time to time after a loop in the water. Children ran, alone or with each other, playing, making pairs and breaking up, crying and laughing. Behind the path in the shade of the trees stood a shy man named Simon Davis and he had heard of Iris Calathes in the grapevine. He was a strong- built man of Jewish origin and with his thick black hair always untidy Simon seemed regularly lost in his thoughts. He wore glasses and looked a little bit like the orchestral conductor Simon Rattle while being much younger. Indeed he was only a year younger than Iris. His fate had been so unfortunate he had bone marrow cancer. Mercifully he was having a new treatment, and his health was being stabilized. Simon had his relatives in Wisconsin, his father Jacob Davis used to sell fishing Items before his death at fifty years- old, which the cause was genetic bone marrow cancer, Simon had to lead the same fight, but fortunately he knew he had at least twenty years to live. His mother Irene who was still alive was a pageant and a local schoolteacher. She was of Irish and Afro Caribbean descent. And sometimes told Simon their family was related to Ernest Hemingway, but he knew it was only a myth. Simon Davis often offered Iris to accompany her for a walk when he saw her and Iris would enjoy Simon's company, something which led the man’s heart to beat tremendously. He was so happy; walking alongside Iris Calathes, he would have done anything for at least a touch of her hand on his shoulders. Simon ‘s entire body and soul turned dizzy as he hoped for shared romance, however he feared his friend’s rejection. He asked himself questions: » Will she ever love me back? What will she say if I tell her I love her? »Simon was a cautious man, and he feared unrequited love which is also such a common fear a woman has when she falls in love with another man or woman. However, there is nothing more unsettling that falling in love for a spy, especially when you don’t know it or your friends decided to keep you unaware of the life of a double or triple agent, a female James bond in the cast of male and female spies, the latter who still have a life of her own. Iris had all sort of gadget a spy would have, cameras, guns, fake guns, timed watches and the list of all the villains she had taken into prison. Simon was not one of them – he was not a criminal. He hadn’t never drenched himself in Kirkland spies whose purpose was to sentence the very bad chaps into prison and regulate the drug deal while being allowed to deal, ironically! In August Simon Davis returned from an evening with Iris, where he kissed her for the first time and remembered everything, her lips, her smell, her tongue, her hands, her hair, her hips, her breath, her wrists. Together they would go fishing along the lake trying to hook some carps. One day , they went on a boat together, the waters were slightly waving, it was late evening with a roll of slight thunder and chances of very light rain. Simon felt Iris’ arm around his waist and put his arm around her waist and gave her a passionate smag.(a kiss) He sensed something surprisingly beautiful in her womanhood: he liked Calathes as a Tomboy , he did. Whatever he felt, it was irresistible. He wanted to make love with her, a soft ground. And respectfully and with passion and a sense of achievement. An act of love! A way of soothing any feelings of shame and inappropriate guilt he might have wrongfully felt. He thought this meant something like he was going to wed Iris the very same year and endlessly make love to her while letting her take control of his soul entirely and forever. He felt elated and complete and death was not something he felt was threatening him anymore. Iris was Greek of Pomak origin thus her ancestors had moved to the U.S already in 1800 and had taken their roots as Christians , although some Pomaks may have been Muslims who converted to Christianity .Her mother had Russian Armenian blood, the woman's ancestors had moved to Canada already in 1900. Iris probably had some Jewish blood but never truly knew because her family always had been Christians, they lived in a religiously influential community to which members had remained devoted and this already before she was born. Well Iris knew she had been baptized and it frightened her because she was told to have been plunged in cold water; like a fish in an enormous puddle, a custom done in the orthodox rite Iris felt really American and was proud to be a Canadian, she spoke no Russian , even though she may have heard some of it in the church and found the language beautiful when spoken, she knew nothing of it. Iris, who was much more experienced than Simon, felt tranquil and knew her life was about to be settled this evening - She knew Simon was going to propose- she knew he was going to nest forever or at least for a few years. And seen as a wife-. After such a break- up she had with a lover, a man named Midas, -consequently to a ten- year sour relationship, Iris felt Simon was good to her despite the fact he was somehow apprehensive she herself was not. And she would learn to handle him and to love him .“I saw the light of the trees enlightening your beautiful dark caramel skin, you are such a pretty man " Said Iris softly. "Do you think a princess like you wishes to marry an Irish chocolate who looks like Hemingway or more like a black Jew because his mum made him ?Asked Simon, «Well- The princess I am was tired of being sexualised all day by a hot-tempered quarrelling man- who thought he was the king amongst the princes .he anyone saw as his inferiors. And he would have almost killed the princess I am. " replied Iris. Simon played with Iris’ red curls '' What a prick this guy! Fortunately, I never met him, or I’d be doing him in,” Said Simon. Iris looked at him with a gentle provocative look "Oh truly! No, he is not worth it. You would tire your fists for nothing «Simon looked her straight in the eye: “You will be my Maud Gonne, my snowball queen. A princess Romanova born again `”Iris looked at him with an assured look and said : “And I will take you to church and, you’ll be so uplifted , it would be exactly as if I’d appear ghostly in front of you as St Demetrius, mmm , let me find the word , lenanshee, a St Demetrius’ lenanshee- ” And she kissed him , gripping his neck and giving him a love bite. Iris and Simon had thus planned to marry in a cosy and luminous church somewhere in the United States, however they would give themselves a whole year before taking the final decision. The visualisation of the church and beautiful Iris was something both sexual and sacred to Simon Davis who completely taken to his girlfriend, had almost consecrated her on his mind and in his heart .He would fantasize on an angel and stained glass ,on a beautiful choir and he had bathed himself with psychedelic rock songs more than he would have done with the bible .He daydreamed of his Iris- the moments she was leaving him to himself .He was sending her sweet texts messages with his mobile phone, writing amateurish poetry she had inspired him and most of the verse was quite good, surprisingly good for a simple web designer who had drop college. Iris had gone on with studies and obtained a PHD in English linguistics. Calathes became more and more mysterious to Davis when the matter of her studies came to the surface. Sometimes it seemed she knew more than she had ever pretended. Simon hoped that she could tell him what it was all about. He only knew that when she was twenty-one, she had enrolled in a course with the idea of doing something in relation to both the United States and Russia then she dropped the idea completely. Iris enjoyed touring on boats on the lake and she thought of buying a boat, but she had to think of the cost of it, which was very high, so she kept on going on tours where she could rent a fishing boat for nothing. The woman felt like a mermaid in her element, especially when she could see the cabin and the steer and the portholes, she had knowledge on boat guidance because her father had taught her some of it during her adolescent years. The couple’s apartment was quite a nice one set in the Italian quarters of Carouge. If there were some low budget flats between Carouge and Plainpalais, this one was not.The interior of their abode was very pleasant and luminous with walls painted in white and peach decorated with sea-life prints and fairy tales 'creatures drawn by themselves. Their carpets were oriental - they had chosen the lighter shades on their rugs that were cream white and pink incised with plain roses and ornaments. The couple, soon to be wed had one big bedroom as well as a guest room to which anyone could go if a bit of solitude was needed. They had a beautiful living room and a stupendous bathroom and an open kitchen. Their home was indeed a duplex. The living room was quite large with a salmon and white rug in the centre, round and with roses, the ground was beige linoleum. Across the carpet stood a small fireplace made of rusty beige bricks set in the hearth which was an old Spanish furniture. The piece was white and bright decorated with small carved apollos. Behind the fireplace stood a brick bookshelf carved in the wall. An old black Moroccan- style lamp was suspended from the ceiling and could lit the whole room. Two rusty sofas coloured cream and green grass had been disposed of hastily between the living room and the open kitchen, in the front. The sofas were covered by red Scottish tweed blankets, and behind these seats was a large transparent veranda rolled to act as a proper bow window. The kitchen's walls were made of cape stone and wooden bricks, like in an old British pub - a large Swedish westside window-a bow window indeed- was set horizontally and lit the room perfectly. And as needed discreet neon lamps had been set in the ceiling. In the corner stood a modern designed. the fridge was hastily painted in kaki and the glass door, leading to a small garden. On the very left of the corridor was a stainless and twisted glass staircase which led to the second floor.The bathroom was in the middle painted in dark blue. There was a black marble bath, semi hexagonal, like melted in the wall as well as a small attic with another bow window. The latrines too were marbled and stood near the bath; they were painted with blueprints of coloured fish. A white cupboard stood on the left with bath suits, soaps and shampoos, as well as a pretty mirror hanging. It was Italian designed. On the left was found the couple ‘s bedroom quite large with a double - spaced bed. A blue flower bed sheet, under the roof of the attic, a small office, some press material, two chairs, clothes, cupboards, a small dressing with a mirror, a computer and a gramophone under another Swedish bow window. The guest room was on the right and it was furnished with a small baldaquin bed, a bookshelf and three footstools of Persian design. In the middle was a wooden table built in the fashion of a Swiss chalet. The table which was round was not so massive and bright and with a Valais Anne cloth on it. With the addition of two chairs. The couple had a small and fluffy red kitten named Toffey, one of the cutest cats ever. The animal, which would always jump everywhere and bite the couple's toes in the morning, enjoyed climbing up on the dressing and teased Iris if he did not have food for him. He jumped on her shoulders already as a very young kitten, especially if she had her back turned. The little creature was so lovely when lit by sunlight through the window where Toffey often had seen his own reflection with which he would try to play. And sometimes he was afraid and ran away. Iris was feeding him regularly with the rest of the carps she fished and cooked. And Simon was giving him a little milk, a little water and the kitten loved playing with coloured woollen balls. “I hope he did not tear the carpet’s fringes and the curtains again, please check” often, Iris asked Simon. Mademoiselle Iris Calathes enjoyed going to the same rusty bistro every Sunday morning, and Simon joined her if he had time and was not working from home They loved continental food- especially the French croissant, the integral ones with grains. The black and white chocolate breads known in Switzerland, stuffed with black and white chocolate and dusted with very thin chip chocolate sprinkles were amongst their favourite and always with black coffees and teas. Iris cooked lamb and eggplants quite well and she served them with Persian rice, pistachios and pomegranates. She knew other things like nice poached eggs and cooked delicious Irish stew and even borch. Iris sometimes called on the phone, Georges- Peter Calathes her father a press operator, and her mother Zariah Calathes born Symonian, a calligrapher. She also loved her uncle James Symonan and her cousin Elena although Elena Kachaturian born Symonian was not an easy person. Iris’s grand – father was John Symonian and her grand – mother was Leah Levinson an orthodox Jew but she unfortunately passed away when Iris was a child just before the child’s baptism, so Iris had never truly been taught anything religious except the Mass, the church and the bible. And she remembered how badly the priest had traumatised her once when she was eight years old because she drew a childish picture on her father‘s newly printed newspaper. She remembered what she drew, a leopard in the African savanna, she thought it was marvellous with all its black dots, beige fur and long white teeth. Georges-Peter Calathes’ parents were Peter Calathes, an engineer and Leila Ivanja , a writer. Georges- Peter had lost all his maternal uncles during wars in WWII in region of the Balkan Iris enjoyed buying left - wing local newspapers as well as The Economist. She enjoyed reading novels in French too : Pushkin's short stories, Premier amour de Tourgueniev La Peau de Chagrin d’Honoré de Balzac Les Fleurs du Mal de Baudelaire and Prosper Mérimée la vénus d'Ille and Nina Berberova. She listened to space rock songs, and also liked classical music. Janacek's in the mists was amongst her favourite pieces of music. She appreciated Bartok, Balakirev, Hadjidakis , Charles- Valentin Alkan and Eric Satie as well as Chopin and Rachmaninov. She enjoyed growing small pads of heartsease flowers and put them in the pretty vase Simon had painted , the one on the living room table. Iris worked from her home with an American university located in Chicago which had asked her to be an occasional press assistant supervising the making of didactic high -school level books, she had to check if the content was appropriate, correct ite if necessary and she had been invited to draw illustrations for the books ' pages and covers from time to time. She was not paid much for the job however she enjoyed it a lot, she worked four days a week part time: from eight o’clock to midday.Simon was sometimes hired by his own mother Irene Davis - born Cohen to illustrate her fashion magazines and he was good at it . And he had been asked by his grand- Father Pierce Mullaney to create and maintain Mullaney's company’s website. An important company working in the manufacturing of Irish gifts and Irish gift shops across several cities in the United States Simon Davis was a man with a florid imagination and due to the fact he had been ill he had learnt a lot about the world without even travelling enormously his mother had protected him for good reasons and he progressed well in life , however he felt there was like a breach between his florid internal world and the possibility he had to attain what he had always wished. When he met Iris, he felt that this insecurity would disappear. To him she was his ideal feminine soulmate made to be his wife. He had often remembered when his grand-father Pierce took him to Dublin when he was a teenager, they walked along the Liffey and talked together a little Often around Parnell Street. He loved literature, he had visited Dublin’s writer’s museum and immersed himself into books he found in shops. He adored some of William Butler Yeats’ poems and he could read university books already at fourteen. Simon was very smart and sensitive. When he turned eighteen he had a slight psychotic breakdown because he was very much looked after by his family and his classmates had a tendency to abandon him. - He had a crush on another guy named James Cornell and Simon started thinking he was bisexual but he would not say anything because he was afraid of being called a fag . James Cornell never knew. Anyway he felt better soon after his social worker helped him. When he turned nineteen he achieved his college board with a correct score . He met a black prostitute. She was ten years older than his mother, but he did not not mind, she stayed with him for five years but then she had to move somewhere in Chicago, and it really saddened him. When he turned twenty- four his father passed away and he had another depression.He decided to learn Russian because his friend James Cornell - Zavodov had Russian background (his mother was Russian ) and Simon wanted to impress him. He had tried to succeed at Princeton university but without success he failed the first year. However, he entered a school of communication, languages and management named Tool it and obtained a certificate in web design with a very high score and upper elementary certificate in Russian. He entered the Mullaney company and started working immediately. He talked to James Cornell who withheld and slighted him and being heartbroken Simon never saw him again. Darling have you varnished the blueprints properly?” Asked Iris “Yes I have, lovely. replied Simon '' let's have a bath and then take a ride on a boat, let’s discuss of Penelope and Ulysse, our minds go for a ride, what do you think?”” Iris was magnificent this evening with her red curls unravelling below her back like a ring of fire . She wore a clear and tight and long purple skirt and silver boots with laces and a woollen pull- over with beautiful motifs made of silk. Her make up underlined her black eyelashes and turquoise eyes which were like huge blue balls so gorgeous that all hearts would have swum into these. The twilight glowed as the sky was turning lightly orange. Simon had taken an immediate liking to watching his girlfriend and his body had become desire burning – however he had avoided jumping at her laps too hastily not to hurt her feelings. He looked at the sky and started imaging things out of the clouds which were dissolving like the three graces, the garden of Hesperides, flocks of birds, or dragons and puppies. Did he start talking to her a bit compulsively meanwhile, was he very interested in her as a person too ? He was used to using his mind and control a little bit his sexual fantasies that were internal to them when he knew moments his girlfriend did not want anything sexual and sometimes he was so tired and he would fall asleep on her knees and woke up abruptly in the morning. “Where are we honey?” asked Simon "Well on this boat, from now on it did not change « replied Iris puffing out of laughter «come on, hun, let’s have breakfast in the cabin “You want me to go and buy breakfast ? “ asked Simon “ No, I want to fish and eat grilled fish right now ! “ Replied Iris “You want to eat fried carp at seven in the morning, well ok, it’s a little crazy but ok I’ll fetch the fishing rods in the cabin “ said Simon “ And don’t forget the coloured artificial flies in the cans” insisted Iris “No I won’t and I won’t forget the cans of food, yummy ! yummy worms” Said Simon amusingly. “Oh yeah! Sexy!” replied Iris laughing, ironically Simon fetched the material in the cabin and they started hooking carps as some bright fish had surfaced with the roaring of the boat. “ Do you think there are sharks in here?” Asked Iris with a crooked smile and sense of humour. oh maybe there is Moby?” replied Simon “ Moby? “ asked Iris “ “The great Mobydick , Mr Big fish “ ,you see what I mean said Simon “I see you think of James Cornell, the man you call Moby Dick A hard fish to catch” Replied Iris amused and they both puffed out of laughter - “An icy heart I was not able to always understand“ added Simon "Let’s make dinner for our new best friend James Cornell. His cute little girl Jane has her sixth birthday next week, she’ll be delighted. Do not forget he’s leaving to New zealand and you won’t see him again afterwards “ said Iris “ oh and your cousin Helena Katchaturian is coming next week?” “Yes she is coming and you’ll meet my parents too Zariah and Georges-Peter Calathes Have I told you about them already.” The apartment’s garden was small but quite pleasant a fresh and large pad of green grass where were to be found small daisies, a cherry tree and an oak tree, in the months of Mai , June , July and early August. The garden sustained an extraordinary light which reminded the bridge in Parnell street in Dublin to Simon when the bridge had been bathed with soft spring sunlight he had looked over the bridge .And there was the fresh air and street graffities and his mind’s delusions. And the sun in early June. Iris remembered her house in Vancouver where Autumns were particularly amazing, the shifts of colours in trees of such large forests were wonderful to photograph always. She always had this memory of the wild whales she saw so many times. Helena who was going to visit them in a week and had made the journey from Canada would tell them an awful lot.Iris knew they were to move there eventually with Simon. Iris knew some Greek she had heard at home when her father spoke it. She did not know this language as impeccably as him because this language was his mother tongue, beside English. Still she knew quite a bit. She sometimes enjoyed reading a poem from a poet named Georges Seferiades titled the Garden with an English translation. Iris enjoyed resting in the garden as midsummer approached and the month of August, she sat on a bench which had been found in the vicinity. She was wearing a red wine poncho and her long red curly hair took an amazingly bright colour while she was playing with a small Armenian doll. “ What have you asked the doll , darling ?” asked Simon “ I wished James Cornell would be sympathetic to you when he comes with little Jane and his wife “ replied Iris. “Do you know who James Cornell's wife is ,honey ? “Asked Simon “ No I have not met her yet, who is she ? “ " Maira Cornell, a beautiful chick , you want to see ? James sent me a picture of them seven years ago, wait I’ll show you “ – he fetched something on his desk She is a bit chubby, she’s American too, well and her mum is Scandinavian American, and she has Jewish background, I think from Iran. “ “She looks amazing, I think we’ll hook up, “replied Iris. Iris looked at the picture again and took a liking to fantasizing about Maira Cornell. She fell in love already and very euphoric even without knowing her yet- she did not tell Simon about her heart which started beating at a mere sighting of the picture. Iris took off her poncho and thought of making up, but she was not yet on the D day, She unfortunately had to wait. New emotions started stirring her body and soul. She would go out and buy new clothes. She had seen a dress she liked that was visible through the window of a shop. She had found it stupendous. The core tint of the dress was white. The dress fabric was made with nylon and wool mingled. The dress 'adornments were blue and golden. These would extend from the chest to the upper knee. They consisted of very refined crafted pieces of wool sewn into the shapes of waves and spiral seashells. The golden fabric was made of dusky stresses and some patchworks of red flowers had been incised on the dress’ sleeves which stopped below the elbows. The dress cost a hundred and two pounds, and ninety coins and Iris had bought it. She had put it with salmon coloured lip sticks or cherry red and it suited her well. She wore high heels made out of pink and red rhinestones and wore thin golden bracelets on both wrists and ankles. A few days before the D day Simon Davis had had his cut and bought a chic costume and a pretty tie and thought of the arrangement of the living room table and the menu. Iris had felt restless and she had cleaned and swept the entire flat which was now shining bright . She thought too of the finest roses she could buy to impress the Cornells. She found a beautiful present for little Jane, a small wooden rocking horse she had bought at Franz- Carl Weber and would make her a chocolate fudge cake. She had made an interesting present for Elena, a reproduction of a painting named « The liver is the cock’s comb » by a painter named Achille Gorky. The D Day finally arrived, and the bell rang, and whispers had been heard behind the entrance door. Much exaltation was being felt - Maira first knocked at the door. “Hello Maira, Hello James, hello darling Jane, I am so pleased to welcome you, come in” Iris looked at Maira and smiled at her, Maira smiled back at her. Maira looked extremely pretty this evening, short and a bit chubby but extremely beautiful, she had two big hazel eyes and very long dark brown hair with fair highlights. James was a slim man with an assertive look.Little Jane Cornell had a happy witty smile wearing a little pink dress and scarlet ribbons on her black varnished shoes and a handful amount of hazel curls and bright round blue eyes showing the face of a clever and a very happy little girl who had this pretty look as if she had been taken from an Ivan Bibline painting . “Jane “ said to Iris “Yes ? “Asked the little girl “ Do you know, sweet little Jane, today it’s your birthday?” “Yes madam Iris I came to know last week something was to come and I did not know what people were gossiping about and yesterday I was told it was all about my birthday coming!! Yesterday was Friday and my teacher Josette and school friends organised a McDonald's party for me in the classroom, I am so happy, it is my birthday! I can barely believe it! “Said the little girl as she happily ran to and fro. “Jane, come here, just for a second and tell me, how was your party”? asked Iris “Wonderful madam Iris, we made burgers in the classroom, danced with Michael Jackson ‘s songs and a TV was brought and we could watch Free Willy! My five greatest friends were invited, Tobias, Melanie, Guillaume, Marlene and Sophie and we ate smarties cake.” replied Jane “And have you received presents? “asked Iris “Oh yes plenty, a mermaid shaped barbie doll, coloured marbles, a polly pocket seashell, memory cards, a rainbow slinky toy and my mum offered me a very cute white stuffed plush seal, I have it here you wanna see?” replied the little girl. And she showed Iris an adorable plush seal she had in her Babar the Elephant school backpack. “And what do you learn at school”? asked Iris “ Well I am in the middle of first grade, and we learned ABC and reading and numbers and gymnastics and what are neighbouring countries and writing and drawing “replied the little girl. I started being able reading last week with my illustrated encyclopaedia for children, an article on whales “said the little girl “My teacher told me she is surprised at how fast I started reading and how good I was at typing articles for the school newspaper, and I enjoy reading books so much.” Said the child. “And which books do you enjoy reading?” asked Iris, “My illustrated encyclopedias and Noddy in toyland.” Said the child. Chapter II Jane went out on the garden playing with her father for ten minutes and Maira sat on one of the tweed chairs “You look very glamorous Iris “ “oh thank you honey” Iris replied and touched Maira’s hand gently gripping her fingers “ I’ll tell James and Jane to stay outside a bit more, “ said Maira Maira mumbled something at the veranda and shut the window . She came back to Iris took her by the hand and said “ I might be pregnant with another child , but I don’t know yet, it makes me craving for love making” Iris went to the living room and checked the bright red roses, she took two of them went outside for five seconds and offered one rose to Jane and then she went back to the living room and offered the second rose to Maira Cornell. Maira took Iris by the hand, and they climbed the glass staircase and entered the guest room and locked the door. Women started holding and kissing. Maira noticed the small and pretty Italian mirror which was on the shelf and asked Iris where she bought it . Iris replied.“ Before entering college I took a trip to Florence in Italy and I found it in a souvenir shop, I was looking too for paintings to reproduce, I found a book on Botticelli and also a book on Arshile Gorky, I bought them both “ “I noticed some of your drafts on the shelf, you draw well, '' said Maira “ And it’s funny you look like a Botticelli ‘s sitter yourself . “ Maira was all head over heels , talking joyfully . She had long brown hair highlighted prettily with blond shades in waves and curls, two big hazel eyes and lovely chubby cheeks and a very pretty chubby body, enlightened in sophisticated gipsy - style dresses and leather boots. The two women started appreciating each other‘s company more and more. They came to caress each other softly and went undressed, touching and sucking breasts and made love on the bed breathing softly and screaming, whispering loving words to each other. They then took a quick bath and dressed back incognito. The doorbell rang a second time, Iris’ parents entered as well as Elena. Iris hastily kissed Maira for the last time and ran downstairs to welcome the new guests. Both women knew Maira had to leave to New zealand and had to wait at least eight months before coming back to Europe or Canada for she worked as a specialist doctor in faune and flora and was extremely demanded so they knew their relationship had to remain loose for a year or two because even if they loved each - other, Maira’s job required a no strings attached behaviour even when this attitude was completely false , Maira was extremely faithful as a person but life often had asked her to be a lonely bird , too lonely. and she hated it and was frightened to be abandoned by Iris. Iris knew she should not let her down and hoped James would always shoulder her too. Simon took Iris back in his arms and Maira sat near Iris caressing her hand so discreetly- Jane played with her father and the Calathes all evening , she had her cake and wooden rocking horse and was overly happy, Maira, Iris, Elena Simon and James had entered philosophical and political debates the child had not understood nor had questioned, (she was completely into feeding her wooden rocking horse with marbles which gave her horse she named "Black" like a film she saw named black stallion ) superpowers which took her into Simon's lap and she teased him by stealing his hat and he played the werewolf and she had laughed enormously.The Cornells left for New Zealand with the promise Maira made , the promise families would meet again once later in the year. Iris had cried the whole night after Maira left. Elena Kachaturian and the Calathes had been invited to stay three weeks and Irene Davis and Pierce Mullaney would be joining them in a couple of days, and so three people brought sleeping bags with them. Elena Katchaturian and Irene Davis would sleep on the ground in the guest room whereas the Calathes owned the baldaquin bed for three weeks, Pierce Mullaney would sleep on the living room’s ground with his sleeping bag near the fireplace and Iris and Simon would sleep in their bedroom. The family had regular meals together in the kitchen where more chairs had been bought for the occasion and went to the restaurant every Saturday and sometimes to the cinema the same evening . Elena Katchaturian born Symonian was quite pretty although very casual in the way she dressed and sometimes had a bit of a surly face, she was already forty-two and her much older husband passed away when she was thirty-five and her twenty- year old son Jason left home for the army and was fighting somewhere in the Mexico border. She had a dark skin and big chocolate frizzy curls, a little dry , her hair remained shortish but very thick a slightly aquiline nose and eyes very black as well as her big eye lashes and furnished brows, her chin was a bit angular and her lips thin and long, she was quite short and bony and very often mistaken for a Spaniard or an Italian, she would sometimes smoke fags and cigars and yellow her teeth as well as she was sometimes addicted to Cointreau and Amaretto , she would wear these big rhinestones black pull -overs and old fashion denim jeans with the big brown belts her mum gave her and she sometimes failed in taking her legs ‘hair out properly and would colour her nails in bright red and listened to Marianne Faithful and Melanie Safka and knew how to sing à la Melanie Safka for she had this sort of rocky voice undertone and her pairs had just stopped mocking her as they had always done since she had turned seventeen . . Irene Davis born Cohen, fifty-two years old ,was really a beauty pageant, she was tall and luscious, with a perfectly shaped body and harmonious breast and extremely thin traits in both body and face- Her Irish mother half Catholic , Half Jewish gave her an extremely interesting face with exquisite almond eyes brown and piercing you with pride and intensity And she had perfect arched brows and chubby lips, her father half afro Caribbean half Egyptian Jewish who had a Palestinian grand - father gave her the allure of queen Nefertiti or a Greek Goddess of Cyprus, everybody wanted to end in her bed. She had attractive hips, attractive perfume, attractive waist and breast , mysterious voice, mysterious talks where fashion and design were both a big and small part of her . The contrast was quite stunning when Iris sat near her with her milky skin and enormous round blue eyes with tinges of black, like a sea storm, her very thin look and small breast and slender appearance , although she was not tall ,made her gracious. Her very long red hair was often braided by Irene Davis- she had red freckles on her pretty small nose, she had cheeks' dimples and dimples in the corner of her mouth and red brows she did not even cover, she smelled of patchouli and sometimes of green tea. The time the whole family spent together was made of instants the whole family found memorable – Pierce Mullaney was one of the greatest storyteller they had ever encountered, an old Irish man bold and fat who seemed to know a lot about life, he appreciated Iris enormously and had told her she was an like an angel sent from heaven and it moved her a lot Iris took time for herself where she sometimes remained alone in the guest room where she sat one of the Persian footstools and she would write letters to Maira Cornell. " Dear Maria I hope you are doing great in Wellington and the weather is hot as always and you have plenty of things to discover with the fauna and flora there, I admire your job and I think what you do is one of the greatest things ever , you take care of mother earth and well, you save us all And as you gather and take of the earth's flowers, I hope you take great care of yours! Send my greetings to little Jane who is probably delighted and greatly enjoys her time in Wellington. How is she doing with the schoolwork? I sent her a few pens, pencil cases and illustrated coloured books I am sure she will appreciate. How is James doing? I remembered you told me you were pregnant with a second child the day we made love and so I consider there's a little of me in this little one! I miss you very much and I wish I was here to take care of you! Try to come back as quickly as possible so we can nest! I truly love you, Your Iris PS : I might also be expecting a little Caribbean warrior, more brothers, more sisters! As Iris was looking forward to hearing from Maira she appreciated watching the garden trees and talked to Simon about many things. She felt she was pregnant, but she wanted to keep it secret as a heavenly gift and tell them about it only a few months before their wedding day. Well as a matter of fact, there were eleven months left before the wedding and Iris was three weeks pregnant. As came October she was a month and three weeks pregnant something which meant a child was to be born in June 2020, she was thirty-two years- old Simon Davis started noticing something as her fiancée who only weighed 104 pounds was gaining weight “ Dear, are you stuffing yourself with crap food or what , you gained like 22 pounds !” asked Simon “Sim, you don’t understand , well hmm, I’m pregnant !” replied Iris. “You are, you are.. pregnant! Oh my God that’s amazing, a-m-a-z-i-n-g, daddy Davis, call me daddy Davis !!” Simon all of a sudden was overloaded with joy and exaltation and ran into Iris’s arms kissing her all over. Iris was gaining weight and saw her body changing with pregnancy, her hair grow even longer, and she left it a bit bushy, she got rid of her jeans and started borrowing clothing to Maira Cornell who was sending her girlfriend clothing regularly via the post, Maira sent Iris pictures of her pregnancy where she had to control her weight gain with a doctor not to become overly fat and she did it well and was still amazingly pretty and little Jane amazed by the idea of a baby brother or sister to look after and as she was waiting for the baby, she was showing signs of impatience. Maira Cornell was born Maira Fredrikson, to father Elias Fredrikson and mother Esther Iravani who was Frederikson s direct cousin , Ester Iravani parents were indeed Oscar Fredrikson and her mother Atara Iravani. Maira's father was a hairstylist and her mother a teacher. Her parents worked in Boston and were too busy to come whatever happened, Maira had a brother named Jan who was seventeen year older than herself and was the one who always looked after her as a child- he overprotected her a little, since Maria’s mother who was a very busy person however still cared a lot about her daughter and took care of her a lot at any moment she had time, however when she did not have time she asked to Jan to shoulder her sister which he did extensively , he was truly a doting father. And Maira told Iris her brother came to visit her from time in Wellington. However Iris missed Maira a lot and if it had been possible she had kept her with her in Geneva for the whole year but naturally it was not. In Wellington the weather was both humid and hot and Maira was working with crops and birds despite her pregnancy, she cared about her job too much, she enjoyed looking after a handful numbers of them, kiwi birds , kakapos and bellbirds and many others like seals, dolphins and hooker’s sea lions. As she was working both as a vet and a crop analyst, her schedule was complete . James Cornell was working in a bank as a financial analyst and enjoyed coming back to their studio apartment near the harbour with the constant roaring of the sea and creatures, he was taking Jane to Wellington ‘s Northland primary school in Harbour view road every morning before going to work. The Cornells had planned to stay in Wellington for two years in a half before joining the Davis’s in Vancouver, in Elena Khachaturian’s summer house- And the Davis would marry in the Armenian apostolic church of Kirkland before joining the household. Chapter 3 Little Jane Cornell was listening carefully to the teacher‘s instructions as the class was reading The Snow Goose by Paul Gallico and they had to draw parts of the book and Jane loved doing so and was very good at it. She would draw cautiously, very much focused on her work with small blond curls slightly shading her eyes without her noticing. She was happy every time the teacher came and checked what she was doing, and the teacher was pleased every day to see her. The Northland primary school being quite a small one- The atmosphere in the school remained comfy and thus ideal for the small amount of children studying .When Jane played during the school break she would always play with a little boy named Peter Smith she liked a lot , they would play with tennis table balls, marbles and slinky toys- Sometimes they played board games and one was called “La nuit des Vampires” night of the vampires, a game she was given by a neighbour in Geneva. The game’s rule was quite easy : Its main purpose was to follow the coloured board‘s mapped direction given by the cards piled and a throw of the dice and accumulate small bloody red plastic bottles . She had just started learning the basics of arithmetic and enjoyed math to some extent even though it was not amongst her favourite subjects. At home the situation was agreeable for the Cornells nevertheless it remained a bit tense, and this was due to Maira’s pregnancy which would bring joy and caring but also quite a bit of pressure and sometimes worries in the small temporary household: Was everything going to be alright? Will Jan Fredrikson be able to give a hand months after the baby’s birth if Maira goes back to work. These were James Cornell’s preoccupations and of course he thought of the name he could give to that baby, they came to know they would welcome another little girl and had chosen to name her Timea. Maira thought of Iris every day, she remembered her beauty with her heart pounding every time. “Oh these red curls, oh these eyes, oh timeless beauty of ancient times, why am I not alone with you? I want to kiss you, I want to hold you, hold your hands, walk in the sun and you’ll be the sky with your blue eyes but you’re not here right now and I’ll have to learn about patience. Timea soon will be born and I already think of all the good time we will spend together , I will take her to the beach and we will enjoy the sun and the salty sea, and now I start thinking of laughers and sun cream on my feet, the pale sand and maybe the moonlight , white laces in the sand in the sun, smell of this sweet sun scream , flower hats and pebbles here in Wellington.” Simon was at home in Switzerland and doing much of the household since his wife was pregnant he was both happy and stressed about this idea of the newborn who very soon was to come. He knew that if a son was to be born he would be called Garry, Garry Davis . Iris had noticed how pregnancy had changed her body, she’d often dye her red hair redder. She wore purple and very large dresses which would stretch with elasticity and left her at ease as her belly was growing bigger. Her red hair was the longest she ever had, and baby Garry would give her the hardest kicks and she would try to refrain her son’s frustration by choosing food he would like. She went on with mashed potatoes curry rice with pineapple slices with chocolate brownies. The baby had some taste already in the womb, he would hate spinach and love curry for example, and he adored the chocolate brownies. It had been raining for two days before Iris went straight to hospital to get ready for labour before she delivers. The hospital’s room was welcoming, smelling of rose soap and cleansing disinfectant. The walls were nicely shaded and white with small purple lilies drawn on them. As the wind blew in the afternoon, light would pass throughout the semi opened windows and played Chinese theatre for hours on these white walls Iris would watch and she thought of the many things she would have painted herself ; deer and birds , she would have added archers or even a small Caribbean island with light coloured fish. She found the room pleasant and the staff composed of one oldish Arabic nurse and two charming Australian -born paramedics adorable , she would talk with one of them Gilles was his name, she'd asked him why his name was French and he had told her that his mother Marie Loizeau was of French descent and his Father Thomas Martins was Australian. Gilles was very good looking. He had long hair below his shoulders, a thin and quite muscular body and two huge sea coloured eye, a charming and welcoming tone of voice ,he seemed to be a very good listener and Iris told of her occasional belly pain she was having or asked if he liked the room setting or she 'd asked him what he was doing in life ,he told her that beyond the fact of him being a hospital nurse, paramedics specialised in birth deliveries, he regularly taught philosophy ,history of religions and Protestantism to college board students .They discussed briefly of Kikergaard's puzzling philosophy of renouncement as well what truly is rationalism or irrationalism, Descartes came into the matter and fears of Oswald Spengler. The Arabic nurse‘s name was Selma and she was of Algerian descent, she was born in Oran and fell in love with Auguste Cain and the sculpted lions. It was a very long story to her. She had married a man with the almost same name, of course he was not the same man, his full name was Augusto Cain Korsia and she gave birth to a little girl she had named Nina Korsia, her beloved daughter was of exquisite beauty. She looked herself like a lioness Selma would say, slim and harmonious, a graceful bird with wide blue eyes , porcelain skin and natural blond curls; she had the elegance of an ancient Greek statue and would ignate sexual desire in many of her friends, especially Russians . Nina had asked her mother of possible Russian background and Selma told her she had had a Jewish grandmother born in Kiev whose name was Margarita Rotstejn, but she was already very old by the time Nina was born, Nina never knew Rotsejn. “Did Nina ever go to Oran with you ?” asked Iris. Such places seem dream-like to me , not real places, a fantasy of beauty! “ she added. “Oh yes she did ! And we played near the bronze lions and went to carousels, and she was dressed so fine and I read her of Anderson’s fairy tales and Tolstoy.!” She’s thirty-two, she studied Russian literature, but she’s been gripped by this older woman Svetlana and she never married” Iris felt her lower belly contracted and it hurt her twice as much than the pain she had during her periods. In addition to that, her weight and belly pressure tired her, but she was ready to try, her back hurt a little but the nurses told her it was normal. She knew perfectly how to control her breathing and it helped her and she would ask herself “ is my child ready to pay me a visit or he is too busy emptying the biscuit box I gave him?” ”Simon Davis had planned to come soon and he discreetly arrived at this very moment “Hello darling, Hello Mr Martins, Hello Mrs Korsia, I am so excited of Garry’s visit to the world which apparently started”! Simon said “Hello Mr Davis, replied Gilles Martins yes your wife is starting labour and she is on the first stage, we are now on on the second of June 2020 and it is 2 pm , by tomorrow morning your child should be born , we have an extra bed for you to stay in the hall if you wish too and the cafeteria remains opened up to 11 in the evening , you can too have a shower in our restroom” Simon held Iris' hand and made funny jokes on how Garry would look like, “Maybe he’ll have the red-haired gene, little red-haired Garry” said Simon “ I’m pretty sure he’ll look jet black honey “ replied Iris All the stages of labour and delivery went well, Iris had an impeccable self-control and was perfect in the way she made efforts and intense body pain was soon to be forgotten as Garry was born. “Here is your child , welcome to the world Garry” said Mr Martins as he helped deliver and Mrs Korsia cut Garry’s umbilical cord and put him on Iris’ breast . Iris and Simon were crying with tears happiness and release , “Welcome little one of ours, we missed you for too long “ Said Simon to his 8.9 pounds chubby child “What a beautiful boy you are” They said to him Garry was already a very beautiful child, Iris was right . He had a mock of jet black hair and darkish brows and a caramel complexion like those of Ethiopian boys, with pretty chubby lips and he had big green eyes so vivid , this is why he already had such a straightforward gaze, a piercing look. Simon held Iris' hand and made funny jokes on how Garry would look like, “Maybe he’ll have the red-haired gene little red-haired Garry” said Simon “ I’m pretty sure he’ll look jet black honey “ replied Iris All the stages of labour and delivery went well, Iris had an impeccable self-control and was perfect in the way she made efforts and intense body pain was soon to be forgotten as Garry was born. “Here is your child , welcome to the world Garry” said Mr Martins as he helped deliver and Mrs Korsia cut Garry’s umbilical cord and put him on Iris’ breast . Iris and Simon were crying out of happiness and release , “Welcome little one of ours, we missed you for too long “ Said Simon to his 8.9 pounds chubby child “What a beautiful boy you are” They said to him Garry was already a very beautiful child, Iris was right . He had mock jet black hair and darkish brows and a caramel complexion like those of Ethiopian boys, with pretty chubby lips and he had big green eyes so vivid , this is why he already had such a straightforward gaze, a piercing look. Both his parents had noticed Garry Davis had his very own personality as he was growing up he was very intelligent , by nine months he started walking and when he turned a year old he started talking , he resembled very much his father and had caught something of the Irish spirit that perspired out of his soul and had taken enormously from his mother side too as he had something extremely solemn. the little boy had long jet black hair and would keep it long , a very sensitive child he was, he was also opinionated and revolted sometimes, however he remained extremely social and sweet prone to melancholy, Iris and Simon called him the tempest boy and really it was him and he could not have been otherwise. When Garry turned 3 , his sister Anastacia was born, Anastacia looked different , very much like Irene Davis, although she had her brother’s eye colour, she was a mermaid to him, or a princess, Garry was fond of his sister from the start. As they had planned Iris and Simon had to get married in Kirkland and join the Cornells’ in Elena Khachaturian’s summer house where the whole household : Elena Khachaturian, The Calathes, Pierce Mullaney and The Cornells would live together.

Dana lee revised

Dana Lee a fictional story (out of my mind)all likeness with an actual occurrence is a coincidence Dana Lee was born in the town of Salisbury in England in the county of Wiltshire.Her family and herself lived in a magnificent house with flowered window sills in this beautiful English village in which the sky shone with a thousand lights as if sifted by the glares of a discreet sun, the horizon always mingled with the coastal mists and thunderstorm gigs later in the evenings . The young woman enjoyed taking pleasant strolls along cobalt-coloured cliffs by the sea every afternoon in Spring.As she was in gap year, Dana had chosen to take some free time during her bachelor’s degree studies in art history which she was doing at a school in London. From then on, she had decided to take a walk by the waterside in Salisbury in search of the fairy world. The fairy world or the “Sidh” of the Celtic world was her chosen subject for her studies thesis. Moreover, she was convinced that she had visited it regularly for some time, except that it was quite difficult to prove to ordinary people because these moments were unfolded in untimely times that she herself did not understand as when she was taken by surprise or when the ground would give way under her feet just like in “Time bandits” or “Denver, the last dinosaur”. And as she had talked about it to her parents Maureen and Jon Lee and to her brother Thomas, they all had told her they thought she might have been dreaming or that she was a little sensitive-because -they usually replied- as we all know it: the world of fairies exists in the Western imagination and particularly in Celtic traditions but as its name suggests it this is a fairy world and therefore, for them it was more spiritual than tangible. However, for Dana the latter was both physical and surreal.Well, it would have been perfect if Dana wielded her beliefs for her studies of art history exclusively.Nevertheless as she was doing so well in drawing, some much could be said about these beautiful paintings and these illustrations of fairies and flowers in the manner of Cicely Mary Barker. There were so many things of extraordinary importance to Dana Lee. Not only did she know that training her basic notions of Gaelic languages and Old English was a good thing, but she also knew enough Scandinavian to translate texts for children. Her Irish was bright enough for her to adapt tales From Alfred Perceval Graves. And her knowledge of Hebrew was sufficient for her to translate the first page of the Genesis. All those things which might have seemed only to be a poetic training for some or a spiritual quest for others were magical to Dana Lee: She regularly frequented the fairy world. Today as she was thirty-five years old and therefore had ended up getting used to those fantastic and unusual encounters that were her regular conversations with Lady Morrigan La fée(she was a woman with big auburn curls ten years her senior, quite pretty but a little bit nutty who would run after Monsieur Dulac and scream with a huge Welsh accent and practice archery, she had black stockings, icy brown eyes and a very showy and pretty plum lipstick) and many champions - She was wistful about this secret world. La Fée for example had now got into the habit of sending her regularly on a mission to watch over the fairy people (young bard Ossian and Golden headed Niamh) but above all to act as a detective for Dulac. Dana had to go and see if Sir Dulac was cheating on Lady Morrigan by filtering his letters. Dana might have told her every year for about fifteen years ``this man is really not worth it" her friend had never believed her and fell back into meanders. Dana was a beautiful woman with a lot of charm. She was elegantly slender while average tall. She had taken the habit of dressing herself with fine and costly boutique clothes especially with refined linen and fair laced clothes as well as with soft and beige, pastel and rose clothing. She had large hips and a very thin waist and round breasts. She sometimes wore coiled embroideries of gold tones and burgundy tops with long sleeves and white shoes and heels. She wore light pink lipstick and pearly gold eyeshadow- she would put light -salmon coloured powder on her cheeks and smelt of sea salt spray or sometimes sweet green tea scent. She had amazing green and brown cat eyes- two expressive thin almonds, as well as a gigantic cascading curly hair way very long way down her back, hazel and blond. She had a thin face, a high and small chin, and a thin forehead.Her brows were fair and arched. Her nose was small although slightly arched and dotted the woman's face’s character which went along with her intelligent look and smile and staid, patient talk as well as everything that suited her clever personality and caring attitude. She was conscious and impressionable and sometimes went back to herself as a hermit would refugee himself from the outside world, back to books, mysticism and cleverness, hidden sensuality-I Indeed this is how she was half of the time, six months a year maybe? She was also diligent and added to the fact she was appreciated as she had taken the leadership of the fairy world she had inherited and had been given the tasks of a queen. Dana Lee was born to Maureen Lothian, a Scottish national who originated from Orkney near the Faroe Islands and to Jon Lee,(Lee-Rosenberg) a Faroe Island 's native of Anglo – Danish, Irish and Slavic(including Jewish -Ashkenazi descent, her father's mother's name was Rosenberg-Pedersen) Dana traveled regularly to Orkney and the Faroe islands, to see her grand-parents and she enjoyed seeing the green wild cliffs the ice and the frost in October gleaming lights, David and Gina Lee, her grand-parents lived near Skansin , on the Faroe islands, close to a lighthouse with a red roof. The landscape was particularly breathtaking; wild and agreeable, she felt home. Dana felt worried about one thing however- if the island was a place she cherished – the Sidh , the world of fairies where she met Morrigan La Fée , Sir Dulac Young bard Ossian (who had been a boyfriend for some times) and Golden headed Niamh – She loved Ossian but she was in love with Niahm and sometimes Ossian abused her, he strangely enough appeared to be a jealous man and would lock her away from Niahm who cried too and did not know what to do either when tears were so violently bursting. Dana was tired of Ossian Lee's impishness (who was indeed a distant cousin)as he tried to pull Niahm away all the time and told her not to see Dana- Niahm was frightened by this controlling behavior - too- Girls would escape and meet during weekends one weekend out of two. Dana feared Ossian had influenced her over her perception of her, she hated when her friend looked her impetuously and would mumble things in French (she was half French, half Irish) and tell her to leave the room, becoming cold and distant with her two enormous sea -eyes and blond locks , like being in frost. Dana had become bold and felt outraged by the situation, especially towards Ossian, she had mixed feelings of hurt and sadness and fear and revolt. Chapter 2 This day she had entered a bakery, an excellent one, with sheeny cakes, strawberries and creams. What a magnificent, resolute, lively showcase, oh yeah,me remaining alive , will I eat them all! She thought twice looking at her thin belly and the tea room’s vintage ticking clock “tik tok tik tok tik tok”this day she had stepped in a bakery, an excellent one, with sheeny cakes, cherries and creams, what a magnificent, resolute, lively showcase, oh yeah,me remaining alive , will I eat them all! She thought twice looking at her thin belly and the tea room’s vintage ticking clock “tik tok tik tok tik tok” no, I want to , I want to, stay thin, even thinner -Dana told herself. She finally opted for a basket of cherries, a small one ,and black coffee.She was leaving as she had just seen "Borman pastries" written in bold she shivered in frights and run away- She remembered having flashbacks but she could not have the exact recollection: Wasn't Borman a nazi ? I cannot remember ! She had just eaten the cherries filled with ham. She didn't even know what ham it was! Why did she forget she should not have gone there- she may have been told once by grandma Gina Lee born Rosenberg-Pederson who married her distant cousin David Lee, Dana's own and beloved grandfather and she was spending time with them these very days since ) or her teacher but at the time she was not older than thirteen years-old and with time flying she had forgotten, because her mind was preoccupied with Niahm and Ossian and with university generally (beyond everyday's small turmoils she had been globally feeling innerly secure like most people, she felt secured and at peace, then she had forgotten of these hints , completely forgotten of them) and it was too late she had eaten the cherries before remembering she had forgotten who was Borman. She turned to the counter and saw a Jewish man (he had kept hastily a kipa ) with a missing leg: "hello" he told Dana, Im Jacob Lee Rosenberg-Pederson, i'm your uncle but you had never met me before, I was born to David and Gina in 1970- five years before Jon lee your father but I had to live to San Francisco and we never met before today- I'm American." “Thank you uncle Jacob, tell me what happened to your leg?.” She asked. “Borman Junior is a psychopath. He cut my leg with an ax because I had an affair with his wife, he used to employ me but now he did me in, can I leave with you to the Faroe Islands ?and you’ll never come back to Berlin again (Indeed Dana after a riot with Niahm and Ossian had left the place for two days ten days after she had arrived to Sanskin) “Yes come with us , with Grandpa, grandma , Ossian and Niahm, but you’ll to know Im engaged by Morrigane La Fee with a mission in the Fairy world “ she replied Chapter 3 The Fairy world could have been anywhere -in Israel, on the British Isles,on the Faroe Islands,what was universal to it was the fact that it was a Fairy world and thus it was different from ordinary life. And what made it different? Well Here Dana felt time had slowed down , her boyfriend Ossian had become friendly again and she could enjoy time with Niahm again and even continue their love affair.Uncle Jacob had his leg replaced and could work again,now,on fishing boats indeed. One late evening Dana had fallen asleep on a bed of flowers she had made in their house. Night came and she heard a knock on the door.``Who's in?" She asked . As nobody replied she stepped out .All in a sudden she saw something so extraordinary it had left her flabbergasted. A night garden had grown under feet , not even a night garden but a night forest! A magnificent smallish forest of small birchwoods , small icy streams and fountains feathered with rose petals had appeared under her feet.Small deers were running along free-and nightingales had nested. "Wow that's beautiful, amazing who did that for me ! She exclaimed! "It's us," A dual voice replied. And as she quickly turned around she saw Ossian and Niahm. "Hey guys thank you, that's amazing, what a wonderful job you did ,it's not even my birthday ! This is so kind and wonderfully skilled of you, I'm joyfully impressed "She said. "We missed your thirty -fifth birthday last year and we wanted to apology.There is one thing however, Morrigane Lafee lent us some money for us to grow everything , we had to buy the trees, deers, fountains and now we have to give the money back, well instead she sent the three of us on a mission- She wants to know if Lancelot Dulac cheats on her she is a jealous of a woman named Guinevere and she wants us to go to Brittany in France to read their correspondence- letters had been sent near Saint-Malo"Said Niahm. "Well it 'll be like a holliday and uncle Jacob will take care of the deers in the meantimes,we could get to France by plane and train and I heard Brittany is a wonderful place- we'll have great fun checking these somewhat infamous letters. "Replied Dana "Well Lafee is infamous, not them "added Ossian "If you knew of the spiteful reputation she has you would understand, she thinks Lancelot loves him he does not and she insists , stalks him almost" Chapter 4 St Malo The happy tree friends had arrived in St Malo the next afternoon and were now cozily laying on this sandy Bretonne beach of the French coast. Dana wore a white dress and she had this red lipstick , hair curled in the swaying wind kissing randy feminine whirl around her an harpist' strings would have utter in a moil and the sea too was a dewy ricochet of cerulean waves . Niahm was holding her waist gently kissing her neck.White clouds and the dawning dusk at six o clock had rocked to sleep the three buddies. They had found a white wooden shed on the beach where they slept and lived together merily while taking enough time to fish before the naive sea storms burst as they were quickly doing in June. Dana was hearing her heart beating looking at Niahm 's bright blond hair as she felt their embrace was a promise of love made to each other. A caribbean fisherman not far from them- and with his black ebony hands was polishing stone and cooking a meal on an portable stove- He was here with his son and his wife who had the gracefulness of a Black Pharoness and as they were acquainting Niahm Dana and Carla were starting an endless evening talk. Ossian had joined them at midnight and they started building castles in the sand with Carla’s son Ernest – a happy teen boy of fourteen. As Carla’s family left around two o’clock . Niahm Dana and Ossian went back to bed . Ladies had become intimate. In the evening Dana Lee Rosenberg Pedersen left the room- fetching her star of David’s necklace she had received from her grand-mother putting it around her neck. She went back to the beach alone for a while because she wanted to draw a huge tapestry of Niahm on the sand as a surprise for her. As she started she heard a sudden rustling noise from small woods near by the beach. A tall shadowy man had seemed to surge from the bushes, approached Dana and put his arm on her shoulder. She screamed horrified and fastly mumbled "Who are you?" "I am David Petrovitch'' the man replied , son of Ruth and Isaac Petrovich .I know who you are and so I am Morrigane Lafee's bodyguard I came here especially to remind you that your mission starts in two hours and that you will have to interrupt leisure on mission-you won't have time to waste.Still you'll have a holiday and you could finish your- he looked on the ground- "masterpiece"

every other

Every Other Lily Simovitch-Castle took a stroll in the vibrant park, bathed in greenery and sunlight, on a delightful spring morning. She was in search of her friend Sasha Bell. The gathering of people mostly consisted of those in their twenties or thirties, much like Lily herself. Lily scanned the diverse crowd to locate Sasha. The translucent air and cobblestone paths beneath her feet created a serene atmosphere. Lily, with her long curls, eyeliner, and eyes that held a certain depth, wore a red overcoat from C and A, paired with jeans rolled up in her boots. As Lily roamed the park, memories of Sasha's uniqueness filled her thoughts. Sasha, with her slender frame, blond hair, blue eyes, and a charm that seemed almost fairy-like, captured Lily's attention. There was an unspoken connection, a heartbeat, a yearning for Sasha's presence. Despite Sasha's mysterious universe of fantasy, dragons, witches, and a love for Tolkien, Lily couldn't shake a certain fear. Sasha, a Russian, spoke the language fluently, resembling a young countess from another era, captivating Lily with talks of Pushkin and the allure of a bygone era. In another part of the world, Maria explored a small antique shop in her native Copenhagen, seeking a new white hat and perhaps a seascape painting to adorn her bedroom walls. The shop, with its intriguing items, was curated by a somewhat shy owner who appeared more at ease with whiskey than selling antiques. Maria found her perfect hat, bright and white with a soft gold lace. She left the shop with her purchase and a polite goodbye, deciding to paint the seascape herself. Choosing a stormy evening by the shore for her artistic endeavor, Maria painted a scene that blended reality and fantasy. She sketched colored boats on the horizon, turning clouds into characters like Prince Hamlet and Fenrir the Wolf. An adult mermaid and her pet wolf completed the composition. Maria's artistic creation resembled a youth comics series, and she contemplated selling it or keeping it for herself. Back in Switzerland, Lily, feeling alone and missing Sasha, made multiple unsuccessful attempts to reach out. The distance Sasha created left Lily anxious and hurt, leading her to call Sasha repeatedly with no response. Trying to cope with the emotional turmoil, Lily took a walk in her garden, letting her mind wander. In a whimsical daydream, she envisioned herself as a heroine, pondering the roles of Anna Karenina and Aleksiej Kriłłowicz Wroński. Despite the emotional distance Sasha introduced, Lily contemplated finding her own path. In the midst of these personal struggles, Lily decided to learn Russian, enrolling in a class with teachers Miss Star and Monsieur Ben. The evening classes promised a journey into the language, opening the door to magical novels and stories. Miss Star, a charming Russian, and Monsieur Ben, multilingual and clever, fueled Lily's enthusiasm for learning. Meanwhile, Maria, enjoying an evening with her fiancé after returning from Denmark, had a complexion reminiscent of a Spanish dancer in summer. Her experiences inspired those around her to appreciate Irish music or embark on gentle coastal trips. As the stories of Lily and Maria unfolded, a sense of personal exploration and transformation permeated their live

Heather Weinstein, a reflection

 

       

The other

 

Heather Weinstein saw her big curls in the mirror, her plain face, and hazel eyes she felt lonely, a few books she had left on the table, some of them only skim read. She felt torn this morning. The hearth was there, and the fire was flickering then everything was lonesome. A spirit was missing. Heather had been and enthusiastic young woman, enthusiastic about what she read or what she knew, a curious person ready to know of other people and looking forward for staggering things in her life. She had been a woman who was looking for true love fell in love and believed it could be reciprocated and last. Recently she had been witnessing some difficult things some of which would have been unbearable for any human being. She started believing for example that her parents had been replaced by identical impostors or that two female friends of her of Russian decent had gone missing. She also believed a boyfriend of her had done a terrible thing giving her murderous food fortunately she was still alive but then what was going on?     She had picked up a few of William Butler Yeats’ poems this morning “Dannan children”?  She had a blast started equaling the thing to John Carpenter’s” children of the damned” and then calmed down. These are just ordinary American kids related to "Solomon and Sheeba" and growing trees and Yeats may had had some Hungarian Jewish descent, William "Butler" Yeats and Judith Butler. She closed her book. She loved Yeats’s poetry and the imagery of these beautiful magic swans and fairy land. She looked for her book by Turgenev in her library “First love” she loved this translation by Constance Garnett, she may have been looking for some translated Pedro Bloch’s she could not find on a peculiar Swiss history in Ukraine or a book on Swiss colonies around the world notably in Crimea. She had asked herself if people from the colonies in the event of a war would try to replace native Swiss, but this was obviously ridicule as a thought. A matter of fact they could come to Switzerland and there would be twelve million Swiss instead of eight million, but they would never try to steal other people’s lives. Swiss cites within the realm of vineyards in places like Odessa and Crimea had probably been astoundingly beautiful but now with this unfair, inhumane, and incomprehensible waging war, Heather dared not looking for a press picture, why such a war was waged? She would have wanted to visit the place, now it was out of question. From to time she had thought of “Hamlet “what about a visit to Elsinore? One day maybe. She remembered she had the painting of Cathleen Ni Houlihan pinned on her bedroom’s wall she had taken it back as souvenir from a trip she had made to Ireland. Why did not Shakespeare also write a play on her. 

Heather Weinstein gazed into the mirror, her hazel eyes reflecting a sense of solitude against the backdrop of her big curls and plain face. A scattering of books lay forgotten on the table, their pages only briefly explored. The morning felt torn, the hearth flickering with a forlorn glow. A certain spirit seemed to be missing, a vitality that once defined Heather.

Once, she was an enthusiastic young woman, eager to delve into the realms of knowledge and captivated by the wonders life had to offer. She embraced literature and sought true love with a belief in its enduring reciprocation. Yet, recent events had cast a shadow over her world. Unbearable thoughts haunted her, like the suspicion that her parents had been replaced by identical impostors or that two dear friends of Russian descent had mysteriously vanished. The revelation that her boyfriend might have attempted something sinister with her food left her shaken but thankfully alive. The question lingered – what was happening to her world?

In an attempt to find solace, Heather turned to the verses of William Butler Yeats. "Dannan children" momentarily conjured images from John Carpenter's "Children of the Damned," but she eventually dismissed the fanciful connection. She closed the book, setting her thoughts adrift on the magic swans and fairy lands painted by Yeats.

Searching her library for Turgenev's "First Love," translated by Constance Garnett, she mused over translated works by Pedro Bloch. Her quest for a peculiar Swiss history in Ukraine or details about Swiss colonies around the world, especially in Crimea, led her to reflect on the beauty that once adorned these places. However, the current inhumane war raging in those regions made the idea of a visit inconceivable. The Swiss cities nestled amidst vineyards in Odessa and Crimea were likely once stunning, but now, the very thought of seeking press images seemed unbearable. Why was such a war being waged? The desire to explore the beauty and history of those places was replaced with a somber acknowledgment of the senseless conflict.

Amidst these musings, thoughts of "Hamlet" and a whimsical visit to Elsinore crossed Heather's mind. The painting of Cathleen Ni Houlihan on her bedroom wall, a souvenir from her trip to Ireland, prompted her to wonder why Shakespeare had not penned a play about her.

In this tapestry of reflections and uncertainties, Heather Weinstein navigated the complexities of her thoughts, seeking meaning in a world that seemed to be unraveling at the seams.

 

Heather Weinstein gazed into the mirror, her hazel eyes reflecting a sense of solitude against the backdrop of her big curls and plain face. A scattering of books lay forgotten on the table, their pages only briefly explored. The morning felt torn, the hearth flickering with a forlorn glow. A certain spirit seemed to be missing, a vitality that once defined Heather. Once, she was an enthusiastic young woman, eager to delve into the realms of knowledge and captivated by the wonders life had to offer. She embraced literature and sought true love with a belief in its enduring reciprocation. Yet, recent events had cast a shadow over her world. Unbearable thoughts haunted her, like the suspicion that her parents had been replaced by identical impostors or that two dear friends of Russian descent had mysteriously vanished. The revelation that her boyfriend might have attempted something sinister with her food left her shaken but thankfully alive. The question lingered – what was happening to her world? In an attempt to find solace, Heather turned to the verses of William Butler Yeats. "Dannan children" momentarily conjured images from John Carpenter's "Children of the Damned," but she eventually dismissed the fanciful connection. She closed the book, setting her thoughts adrift on the magic swans and fairy lands painted by Yeats. Searching her library for Turgenev's "First Love," translated by Constance Garnett, she mused over translated works by Pedro Bloch. Her quest for a peculiar Swiss history in Ukraine or details about Swiss colonies around the world, especially in Crimea, led her to reflect on the beauty that once adorned these places. However, the current inhumane war raging in those regions made the idea of a visit inconceivable. The Swiss cities nestled amidst vineyards in Odessa and Crimea were likely once stunning, but now, the very thought of seeking press images seemed unbearable. Why was such a war being waged? The desire to explore the beauty and history of those places was replaced with a somber acknowledgment of the senseless conflict. Amidst these musings, thoughts of "Hamlet" and a whimsical visit to Elsinore crossed Heather's mind. The painting of Cathleen Ni Houlihan on her bedroom wall, a souvenir from her trip to Ireland, prompted her to wonder why Shakespeare had not penned a play about her. In this tapestry of reflections and uncertainties, Heather Weinstein navigated the complexities of her thoughts, seeking meaning in a world that seemed to be unraveling at the seam