T. Rezy

“The Modern Luddites” by T. Rezy

Submitted to Contest #80

''Chamomile. That's the one!'' ''... What was that dad?'' Henry turns away from his chess board towards Beth's direction. She's in the kitchenette, programming the appliances. ''It was Chamomile. You know, the herbal tea your mother used to like.'' It's a contemporary and streamlined apartment, in a modish senior residency complex - Fryer's Grove's the name, in New Hadley, the incidently new smart city. The air pollution is pretty much nonexistent, which helps for Henry's asthma. ''For the life of me, I couldn't remember what it was called. ...

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“Magnolia” by T. Rezy

Submitted to Contest #61

It was Matt's 11th birthday. He had been looking forward to this day for what seemed like forever to a boy of his age. Not because he wanted the presents or the party, or even the Arsenal themed birthday cake that was waiting for him on the kitchen table. What he was looking forward to was seeing his father. He had promised Matt that he would be there on his birthday. Matt glared out of his bedroom window, waiting, overlooking his neatly paved driveway, anticipating his father's car to come cruising down the adjacent road and pull into the d...

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“Sandhya, the Mumbai man-eater” by T. Rezy

Submitted to Contest #59

Sandhya.Midnight in Mumbai. The night sky hangs heavily above the sleepless city. On the hilltop, an island of wilderness in a sea of urbanisation, the crickets nocturnal choir fills the air. The moon shines alone in the sky above, the haze of light pollution conceals the stars, even on a clear day. A spirit like being named Sandhya resides here. The night is Sandhya's favorite time, when she feels serene. The calm of the night hides many secrets. It is the optimal time for hunting.Under the blanket of darkness, she emerges from the wilderne...

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“Desolation noir. ” by T. Rezy

Submitted to Contest #58

''Another rainy day in Lomont. Typical.'' I mutter to myself whilst warming my hands on a mug full of freshly ground Javan coffee. I stare out at the city from my cagey appartement. Raindrops streaking down in seemingly unquantifiable numbers. The gloomy streets are illuminated by the white and red of the cars lights and the yellow huw of the street lamps. Buildings so tall they hold up the heavy grey sky above. The inconspicuous notes of rain playing a tune of melancholia. Below, the wind blows an empty plastic bag along in its gust, waltzi...

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“The oldest profession” by T. Rezy

*Contains Adult themes of a sexual nature, if you are easily offended I advise you not to read, +18* She was a pretty woman walking down the street, a rather unpretty street at that, somewhere in Slough. It wasn't a bad neighborhood, it was just bland, the typical brick housing estates found all around the Greater London Metropolitan area. Magdalena saw beauty where others did not. Snapping pictures in her spare time of the greys and beiges and greens that constitute the tapistary of the old industrial town; photography was Magdalena's pas...

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“Pseudocide in Oceanside” by T. Rezy

Submitted to Contest #55

Barnaby walked briskly through the chandelier lit hallway towards the kitchen where the shouting was coming from.''I did not take it, I tell you! Why would I do this?'' protested Allard in his raspy old french accent.''Never trust a french man, like my late father used to say, may God rest his soul. I should have listened. I demand that you empty your pockets immediately.'' She exclaimed. Astrid had never been fond of Allard, although she was very fond of his éclairs au chocolat.Noticing Barnaby, Allard cried out ''Barnabé this woman has gon...

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