Alexis Araneta

“To My Heart's Call” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #264

Author's Note: This story borrows lyrics from the 1968 Glen Campbell song "Wichita Lineman". I don't own rights to this song or its lyrics (That would be Jimmy Webb who does. He's brilliant.).**“Glenn, you may now say your vows to Lucy.”Lucy, my light….Oh gosh! I’m so nervous, I’m shaking like an overhead cable in the breeze. Sorry about that. Yes, my love, for all the brawn I use to climb up those thirty-five foot poles, for all the steel I inject into my nerves as I dangle on the flimsiest of wires above long and winding stretches of aspha...

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“The Fighter” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #261

CW: Mentions of suicidal ideation, mental health struggles, anorexia nervosa**First of all, I very much know how much it hurts. Quite literally, it does.You sit in your wheelchair as they push you bumpily and help you up the maroon leather-backed banquette at the very front of a coffee chain’s branch in the hospital’s lobby. You’re fully aware that the mobile chair is but standard operating procedure for leaving the medical centre, yet the mere idea of your willpower being excised along with that gangrene bit of your small intestine the surg...

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“Chez Moi” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #260

3 May 2024Mon très cher ange Jeremy,Well, first of all, oh my goodness! It’s happening!Next week, I will be picking you up at the Gare du Nord. Then, in a month’s time, you and I will be marching to city hall --- 11 a.m., on the dot, precise as a timetable – so the mayor could officially wed us. (I know. It’s not very romantic, but yes, that’s the way things are done chez moi.). Of course, just a fortnight after, I can finally walk down a tulip-lined aisle towards your joyfully tearful hazel eyes at the ceremony we’ve planned to the minutest...

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“Radio Romance” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #259

This is the Philippines’ most romantic station, Radio Romance 101.9, where love comes to you in a melody. It’s been a lovely three hours, but I’ve got to go. Don’t worry, though, Caroline is next to take care of the music. This is Henry. Catch you tomorrow.***5 January 2024Dearest Caroline,Gawd, every single time I close my show with that familiar spiel, I just feel my heart drum right out of my chest.The routine has been etched into my head like grooves on an LP. You would wave at me from behind the glass, your large cocoa eyes scintillatin...

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“Focused on You” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #258

13 July 2021Dear Lucas,Yes, I know. How did I find out your name?Look, I’m so sorry. I know this may sound a little strange. Part of me wonders if I should just leave this letter in the shadows, shutter off any attempts to approach you before I embarrass myself. I can’t help it, though. Like a moth drawn towards a beam of Klieg lights, I discovered that my entire being just has to hover around you. Ever since I saw your stunning hazel eyes in a post from 2017 on your blog “Frames”, they have been constantly playing in my mind like a slidesho...

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“The Untaming of the Shrew” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #257

CW: Gratuitous swearing (including Renaissance swear words)Let me set the record straight, first and foremost: No, contrary to what that doddypoll William Shakespeare wrote in his dramatic work, no, I have not been tamed. In fact, if I may clarify, I will never ever be tamed, not then and not now.(Oh, let me repeat that in a language, a bunch of lines, you understand.)That’s right. Good ol’ Willy Shakes all played you, shut off the spotlight of the truth about me and illuminated a fabrication in the brightest of ambers and deep cobalt blue. ...

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“A Shot at Happiness” by Alexis Araneta

And now, let’s give it up for your three-time NBA champions --- and trying for a fourth today --, your very own Dallas Riggers!The crowd of 21,000 hooting mouths rise to their feet, thumping their chests like a legion of Roman gladiators ready to fight to the death. Their hollers as the jersey-clad boys come out of the dressing rooms pierce my eardrums like the leaden bullets of a sport rifle. Keenan Murphy, the Riggers’ star player, extends his large, solid hand to the screaming spectators, who gamely give him a high five. As he and his boo...

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“The Homecoming” by Alexis Araneta

21 June 2024Dear Mr. Kettering,You were right, after all. Despite the soliloquy I declared in front of you after my graduation ceremony two decades ago, the one where I used such choice adverbs such as “never” and “begrudgingly”, your little bit of ribbing predicted me grabbing my suitcase and filling it with the most superlative of my clothing in my closet. It’s true: I, Nellie Perkins-Todd, am flying off from London for a two-week visit to Homer, Louisiana. Technically, you could say that I’m coming home, much like Odysseus did in the epic...

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“A Need to Dance” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #254

“I need to dance to this with you,” you demanded, your chartreuse eyes an inextinguishable flame that bored into my soul and burnt through my defences.Need! That’s not a need. A need is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary as something requisite or necessary. Dancing to “I’ll Be Around” by The Detroit Spinners is certainly not something that one requires to live…Zoe, I can’t dance.My brain spun and sputtered out all its reasons as if they were drops falling down a plastic tube. However, even it knew that it was helpless in the face of yo...

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“Her Song” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #253

Author's Note (1) : This story uses the lyrics of Elton John's 1971 track "Your Song". I do not own the rights to this song or its lyrics. That would be him and the brilliant Bernie Taupin.“I feel my heart beat out of time,” Ryan Bernard whispered to himself whilst he blankly stared at the beat-up, black stereo system at the other end of the marketing office he worked in.He grasped at the juniper green silk tie that hung on his neck, as if his large, muscular hands were following a rhythm only he could hear. A shrill, pervasive tone rang in ...

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“The Purple Wave” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #252

CW: Abuse, swearing“Oh my God! It’s happening,” Melissa Alton sputtered out in a breathless whisper, her well-modulated television journalist voice drowning in a wine-dark sea of nerves inside her. As she sat on the stool of the cedar dresser set, painted her favourite lavender, she bought from a rummage sale seven years ago, she felt her entire body tremble like a purple maple leaf in an autumn breeze.She stared at the mirror and broke into a slight, polite grin, her facial muscles tightening as it settled into the familiar quiet little smi...

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“Star of the Stories” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #251

Speech for Harland Davenport Induction to UK Literary Society by Amanda Greenfield24 May 2024To the esteemed members of the UK Literary Society, – my fellow writers who create worlds out of words --- good evening. I would firstly like to say that I truly appreciate this opportunity to speak before you. I’m very happy to take to the podium for this momentous occasion. I’m equally ecstatic that this rather pricey bright pink silk Stella McCartney dress still fits my expanding belly.(Pause for laughs) As you all know, we are gathered here to in...

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“Golden Brown” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #249

Author's Note: This story is heavily-inspired by the 1981 song "Golden Brown" by The Stranglers. I don't own the rights to this song or its lyrics.CW: Allusions to drug use**11 May 2024Dearest Aurelia,Just so you know, I played our song at my bar tonight. Yes, “Golden Brown” by The Stranglers, that familiar refrain that makes you break into that certain smile that makes my heart ebb and flow like a diamantine river, permeated --- what else –-- The Golden Brown Bar. Even after six years, I could still clearly picture it: the almost-medieval h...

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“A Tale of Two Cities” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #248

May 12, 1984To the Parent-Teacher Association Moms of Alamo Elementary School:Yes, you may pick your jaws off the squeaky, dusty basketball court hardwood now. Oh, don’t think I didn’t see it all: the eyes flying over to me like a seagull when I opened my mouth to cheer for my lovely daughter singing onstage, the tide of confusion crashing upon your made-up faces, the gulp you had to stifle to paint an expression saltier than San Francisco Bay. Nevertheless, yes, you heard correctly indeed: contrary to what you had pre-conceived of a petite,...

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“The Man Who Walked on Water” by Alexis Araneta

Submitted to Contest #247

No one remembers what it was like to learn to walk. No, in the vast seas of our memory, that formative year right after we are pushed out of our mother's womb is all but submerged, lost like an ill-fated ship at the very bottom where corals dwell. And yet, somehow, in the depths of our core, our muscles recall every single process, could always perfectly stretch out and strain in order to execute the routine of us standing up, lifting a leg, and advancing with one foot in front of the other. Meanwhile, to our conscious, the entire orchestrat...

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