F.O. Morier

“Looking down from the stage ” by F.O. Morier

Once when I was a little child, I asked my grandpa if he ever prayed. He replied: “Only when my feet hurt.” I don´t know if you appreciate or enjoy classical ballet, but if you do; I invite you to delve into the rarefied world of the ballerina. I will be your guide. Follow me and astutely notice the symbols and rage underlying the romantic image of the ballerina. There´s a baldness because, it´s a must, but also a barbarism. The next time you watch a ballet performance, try to be akin to an anthropologist and you´ll never look at a ballet da...

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“A stolen pen” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #122

The last week of august was always an exciting time. The holidays were almost over, but it was still summer, and there even was a carnival in town. School was around the corner. The beginning of a new academic year and the prospect of new challenges and achievements filled me with energy and motivation. For me, the highlight of this exciting week was going to the city, to buy my new school supplies. Armed with a list, I started writing in July, I took the bus and headed to the city. That year, a new business had opened: a fancy store selling...

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“Tivona” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #121

What is the best gift I ever got? That´s easy: a book.   Before books, I had a fascination with doors (and still have), and maybe in a way that´s why I love books so much because in a way they are doors to another world. As a child, I was mesmerized by a particular book I found in the attic of the house of an aunt. A sincerely fashionable widow and tossed away mistress of a devastatingly witty man. From time to time my grandmother would visit her. In secret of course. Mostly on rainy afternoons when not too many people would ventur...

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“Catlady” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #120

She didn´t own an old family photo album to leaf through on days where she felt lonely. She didn´t even have a single photograph. Only a few pictures on the wall of glamorous film stars she had cut out of newspapers she used to wrap the food for the cats in. That way she could share in their sparkle that would bring back familiar smells of peppermint and cologne. For the briefest of moments, she would let nostalgia woosh through. A sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place in a distant time, enrobed in yet other smells of slig...

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“Zoom” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #119

Zoom... Remember that song? I haven't heard that one in a while. I think I forgot it and to be honest, I think I chose to forget it. It was a commercial R&B hit with a soul vibe, during the '80s. Bang... heaven called and all the angels sang. It´s a song that comes pretty close to a demonstration of what might happen when love comes into your life. I'll admit it's a song you have to be in the mood for. (I guess it would be more accurate to say, that you have to be in the zone for this one.)  Last week it came on the radio, and I fou...

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“A change of season” by F.O. Morier

Today´s the day I change the nature of the season of Halloween. Forever! Is Halloween a fantasy or a revolt against its possibility? Nihilistic impulses shaped into pleasing shapes? A death mask of conception, a collage of cultures, a staccato cadence, or an emergence of hidden personas, a curator of forms in whose composite we hope to detect something of ourselves? Set beneath starkly beautiful black fields, crows, corpses, shadowed alleys, blends of history and memoirs resulting in a narrative of spectral rich images, materially preoccup...

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“Dance Macabre” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #117

Ever since I was a child, I had this fascination with graveyards. Cemeteries are like prisons; reservations designed to isolate, edge out, weigh down under granite and marble. They are an oasis of calm, respectful silence and often deserted. To me, they represent the will to preserve an abolition of memory; a memento mori: a declaration of the transient nature of life. The gravestones are like rows of books bearing the names of those who have been blotted from the pages of life, forgotten elsewhere, but remembered here. And of course, a warn...

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“Germinating seeds of forgiveness .” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #116

There´s a part of me, who lies all the time, to tell myself a truth, I´m afraid to bear. That part of me has many names and none. It cries it howls, it is caged. It is sad and it is lonely. It wants to break free from its burden. It wants to wash. It wants to breathe. It wants forgiveness and to give absolution. It craves the light; it longs for warmth. It labors to forgive, to pardon! To break its chains and bathe in the sunlight. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn´t exist.    &nbsp...

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“Dreaming in reverse” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #115

She remembered the day they moved into that house very well. Not a grand or splendid house, but well enough to make it a home. She could not believe how happy she was. Just married, a ring on her finger. A simple model, but its beauty lay in its simplicity. Here, in this house, they would reach the height of romantic felicity. The house would never become a home, it became haunted very soon and civilization came to end. Her husband was away all day and even nights. He assured her that everything he did was on her account.  Society strip...

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“The art of having fun.” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #114

Do you want to do something fun? I can´t remember the last time anybody asked me that. Or likewise, I asked somebody if they want to do something fun… Outside there was, and still is, a mysterious illness going around causing infection, disease, and even death. In the process, I think I forgot how to have fun. And that is a real shame; because believe it or not: having fun is actually part of having a healthy mental hygiene. Oh, my word, I just made it sound so ugly, didn´t I Let me try that again: play and having fun are essential cornersto...

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“Message from a dream.” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #113

It seemed as if all the children in her circle of friends were born in the same month. Over the last week, she received as many as three invitations. She loved children, but three parties so close together was a bit much. She couldn´t explain why it made her so uneasy this year. Lately, her mind seemed to want to dive into unknown depths. It was familiar territory; she had been there a few times before. She had worked very hard to forget the darkness, but no matter how hard she tried; it kept creeping up. All kinds of strange ideas kept inva...

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“The tapdancer” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #112

All you have to do is hum a little “doo do do do, do do do do do” and everyone smiles, recognizing a familiar intro refrain. Dignity, always dignity. Don tells the gathered crowd at the premiere of the Royal Rascals in Singin' in the rain… Love it or hate it (I haven’t met too many people who do – hate it.) A story about a popular silent film star, with humble roots.  A funny comedy for those who like musicals, and for those who don´t there´s a charming romance. For me: it´s the perfect musical, bringing back memories of long-lost C...

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“Lady Ada” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #111

The sun started to rise, but to Ada, it seemed as if this new day would just herald the end of all time once more. Her eyes drifted thoughtlessly over the surrounding fields. Despite the harvest and the greenery, she found the land before, in its rigid immobility; empty, lifeless, and sad. The birds sang their merry salute to a new morning; a flock of pigeons shot through the air flapping their wings and the larks clamored about the cornfields. And yet there was something sad and depressing about all this. Why can't I run barefoot through th...

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“a convincing illusion” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #110

a convincing illusion He was 6 months under the age of 21, and he had lived many lives already: different people, different roles, different professions… None of them significant. Now he had 10 worn-out dollar bills in his pocket and he had a choice: stay and be the town queer or run and be free. Become a stray dog or a hippie maybe. Grow his hair and live his life as simple as possible to maintain his values of love and happiness. And peace of course. Wear conspicuous clothes, listen to laughter and birdsongs. Become a vegetarian, see the w...

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“Nightshift in the garden of Eden” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #109

Most days I´m an early riser. I wake up earlier than everybody else. If the sun is out, I will just lay in bed a little longer, gazing at those rays of light. It was different over there. The night shift starts after the sun has set. Still, I woke up early, staring at the changing colors of the ceiling, from terra cotta to absolute dark. I wake earlier than everybody else, but I´m not a good riser. I always have a hard time making myself leave the bed, and yet, I´m too restless to just keep laying there. The tip of my nose is always cold whe...

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