Metaxia Tzimouli

“Enjoy Our Services, They said” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Chapter 1Vic“Welcome, Vic to your time travel experience. You have been time traveling for a while now and we want to thank you for using S Services. Your chosen destination is Surrey, England. The occasion is a writer's summit. The local time is noon. The year is 1983”. The sing-song voice is heard from the sky. The voice addresses Vic again by name, but this time Vic’s heart flutters, as the policy of S Services is revealed with a grim cadence.“Remember, Vic. You have unlimited travel through time with your time car...

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“When I Remember” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #102

Harry Lambert’s eyes are red. They are not usually red, but today he is afraid that if he doesn’t type 1,000 words by dinnertime something bad will happen. Something always bad is being done to Harry Lambert in his head.“Sir, someone is at the door”. He ignores the voice, and his neck shaped like a crane, inches closer to the bright screen.“Sir!” The voice persists, just like it persisted yesterday, standing on the threshold of his study, here in Grosvenor Corner, Apartment 13. Harry Lambert loves two things...

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“The Past is Another Country” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #97

2008 Sometimes it seems like it is all one big fluke. The first three books became bestsellers in a whirlwind of boundless inspiration. And with that came success and money. His fingers hover over the keypad, then backspace, and then hover again. He slumps back on his wooden chair with a wince. Shit! Sat there he thinks about back when he had the luxury of time, when he still had roma...

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“All the Stars Don't Live Here, Anymore” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #90

The train heads north and Minnie loses her grip on the handle, her whole body slams into the people in front of her. Coming in close contact with other people has always repelled her and she has to fight to keep her face from scrunching in disgust. She pulls out a wet wipe and sticks it under her nose. The carriage is full, and the heat mixed in with a strange musky scent causes bile to rise up in her throat. Her eyes trail left and right hoping to see a window open. Her heart sinks. They are trapped, just like they have been for 365 days...

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“Mnemosyne, the Count, and the House On the Sea” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #88

Mnemosyne loves to dream. Her dreams love her too, so much, that they carry onto the light. Mnemosyne sometimes believes the images she dreams of she can see them appear before her. “Mama, look at that house on the island”. The house rises before them, on a patch of green rock, as if the sea had birthed it. It was of Victorian Gothic architecture, white, stretched onto three-wide fl...

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“If You Only Knew” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #64

You choose not to smile that day. You’ve been crying. I can tell. “I am not crying” “So, smile then” Click, click. You hear the impatient huff of the Headmaster and you bow your head down. It is an instinctive act, which prompts giggles and name calling, followed by more annoyed intakes of breath. “Chin up please. It’s extremely rude to keep your classmates waiting”. The photographer looks at you, his cheeks flushed with irritation. I want to ...

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“Lights Out” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #58

The Smiths were fairly new to Wills worth Park and were unaccustomed to living so close to their neighbors. The Smiths valued their privacy… that is until the lights went out.The scene is a communal garden, somewhere in London; a beautiful, well kept garden, it is a haven from the noise and traffic outside. It all begins with the full moon outside.Charlie Smith, owner of Flat 15 is looking out of the window. He is transfixed on how close it is; like a brilliant shiny jewel in the sky. No sta...

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“Rosanna” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #54

 You just turned 40, and for some reason, you are ridiculously happy at the strand of silver nestled among your other stands of dark auburn. You are smiling; the sun is shining and you have just handed your complete manuscript to your editor. You push the double doors of the building and turn a corner, and there he is again, after so many years. You both speak at the same time, then pause, and then brush i...

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“To Andros With You” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #53

 Greece, and it’s 38 degrees in the last days of July. The blue sky above is kissed by fluffy white clouds, a beam of yellow light touches the glistened-by the sun waves, and as they reach the shore and breakaway, the white noise all around is deafening. My heart swells at the view and I hear three little words in my head: Wish you were here. Now I am sinking from my elbows, the scenery has ch...

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“Butterfly” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #47

You read it. You know you have. It was right there. White neatly tucked in a crisp envelope. No seal, no address. Only one word etched in black ink on the sheet.Butterfly.Now you are sitting on the couch, the TV is turned off; its black screen creates a magnetic pool. You stare at the clock to your right, and then hunch your shoulders. For a moment, you think you are going to cry. But then you remember you never have.It is late afternoon and the sun is no longer shining through your window. You open one eye, then the ...

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“Los(h)er” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #37

My name is Leigh and today is day 40th of isolation. I have just turned 36 years old, and by profession, I guess you would say I am an author, but my secret is that I have nothing left to write.The days melt in together and I want to break the walls around me. The news is the worst part of my days, and every noise is in this small 2-bedroom apartment is a needle to the brain.I have just set up my laptop; I turn on the screen and I aim to write to finish. I need to finish . I am a writer, this is what I do. I finis...

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“Ikigai... and the rest of life” by Metaxia Tzimouli

Submitted to Contest #30

 It is the end of another autumn day. Artemas Brown has been on this Earth for 25 years and this is the first time he decides to see a scribe or writer, as they are commonly known now, to have his fate rewritten. The reason for this is or course love. I lost her, Artemas looks in her direction, and notices how her lips touch another man’s; the delicacy but also the intensity, and his heart shrivels in his chest. It all started with Ingrid’s birthday, Ingrid the girl he was in love with for most of his lif...

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