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Spider Lady and Other Short Stories and Poetry

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Erschienen am 1. April 2016
200 Seiten
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978-1-4835-6756-3 (ISBN)
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This collection of short stories, poems, aphorisms and humor by Mark Alberto Yoder Nunez is intended to be entertaining and inspiring for anyone who loves good reading. The Spider Lady and Other Short Stories and Poetry, also, includes original artwork, illustrations and photography by the author. It is the culmination of decades of creative experimentation. Mark's stories include creative non-fiction and fiction stories. Mark makes references to literature and writing itself in the most thought provoking and entertaining way in his stories. The writer in you will love these stories as an inspiration. Young adults and adults will love Mark's approach to experimental literature. There are stories of childhood, romance, adventure, mystery and horror. The poetry equally is wide ranged in content. It is sentimental, romantic, political and philosophical. Mark explores the nature of mythology itself in his poem: Diana, The Huntress. Mark can be on the lighter side, he can be moody and he can be metaphysical. All for the sake of compelling and entertaining reading. Let's call it an escape to reality!

Dateigröße: 3,62 MB
978-1-4835-6756-3 (9781483567563)
Schweitzer Klassifikation
DNB DDC Sachgruppen
BISAC Klassifikation
Warengruppensystematik 2.0
The Spider Lady I was a young cab driver, twenty-eight years old, and had been driving taxi for a year in town when I became acquainted with a woman of about fifty years of age. She was a taxi customer. She called for deliveries of beer and cigarettes. Invariably when I got this call it was in the late afternoon when I was first starting my shift and it was still sunny out. She would come to her open front door with the screen door closed which she pushed open. Then she would take the merchandise in the brown, paper bag. She had her check book handy and wrote out the check for the merchandise, delivery charge and a gratuity. Normally taxi drivers don't take checks but the veteran cab drivers and dispatchers assured me that her checks were always good. I noticed that when I got the call and went to deliver the goods it was always still daylight but when I turned away from her front door to go back to my taxi the night had fallen and it was dark. An older, sedan car was always in her driveway and except for the paint being slightly dull it seemed in almost mint condition. I would pull my taxi into the driveway behind the car. I walked up the three concrete steps and along the concrete slab, front porch that ran along the front of the house until it came to her front door under the overhanging roof with the trellises of vines along this narrow corridor. She would appear at the screen door and open it to take the beer and cigarettes and pay me. One day when she appeared at the door and it was already getting slightly dark she stood facing me and she was wearing a see-through, sheer black top. She definitely looked about fifty years old and was a plain looking woman but her breasts looked surprisingly firm, big and good. When she opened the screen door with her checkbook and pen in her hand instead of putting the paper bag aside as usual she bent down very slowly in front of me to place the paper sack on the floor. She said so she could write her check. As she was bending down slowly in front of me her large, firm breasts hung down low behind the black sheer. She slowly rose to stand facing me again, a smile on her face. I smiled back at her. She wrote out the check for the merchandise and delivery fee. She obviously wanted me to look at her firm, large breasts. When she gave me the check she then bent down slowly in front of me to lift the bag up. Then she slowly stood back up in front of me. She seemed to want to keep talking to me but I thanked her and left. Once again it had grown quite dark out. As usual it was a warm evening. It was always a warm evening when I made these deliveries. The next time I brought her delivery the events were exactly the same. I pulled into the driveway behind the car that never seemed to be moved from its spot. Yet it had no weeds growing beneath it, no cobwebs. It was never dirty and seemed well maintained. With the middle class, stucco home in a neighborhood where property values had greatly increased everything seemed quite respectable. Once again, as it seemed suddenly to start growing dark she was leaning over in front of me, breasts naked behind the black, sheer, bending down to lower the sack of goods with her large breasts hanging down in front of me. Then she slowly rose to face me to write out the check. The next time I got this order things went differently. It was a little earlier in the afternoon. There wasn't the feeling that it would get dark soon. When she came to the door she was dressed normally, average for her age and she seemed rather plain looking I thought. She invited me in to sit down on a couch that was beneath the front, living room window. It faced inward into the room and I waited while she went to get her checkbook. Sunshine seemed to be spilling everywhere from the front window and the back window of the living room opposite me that faced out into the garden in the back yard. As I sat on the couch with its intricate woven pattern that was meant to have a gold and silver embroidered look to it and I saw other small couches and comfortable upholstered chairs about in the clutter of this living room I noticed the luxurious cushions all around me and about the room on couches and chairs. There was artwork and books and a small, dark brown piano directly in front of me with open sheet music that looked like classical music on the music stand of the piano. I was very aware that everything this woman was doing to me was meant to impress me. Then I noticed the smell. At first I tried to ignore it and think positive thoughts but as I looked about the room with its artistic and intellectual pretentions and in the warmth and stuffiness the smell kept feeling more odious and I could not ignore it. I tried to think what this smell might be. All I could think of was that it smelled like Death. I had never smelled a smell like it before but the only way I could describe it was to say that it smelled like Death to me. Then she reappeared and wrote out the check with an included tip and things seemed normal again. As I walked along the front porch from her door I noticed that it was still light out but already near the horizon it seemed there was a trace of the purple of dusk. The sun had just dipped behind the adjacent neighbor's garage. The next time I got this call everything seemed as the previous time. I pulled up behind the old car in the driveway thinking the same thoughts, that she must drive this car even though it always appeared as if it never moved. I walked along the front porch to her door, the dark green, waxy leaves of the vines to my right. She asked me to come in the same as before and I waited on the same couch with its ornate looking cushions as she went to get her checkbook. As I looked about me, seated on the couch, examining everything very critically I thought that nothing was worn, everything seemed perfect but everything seemed old. The horrible smell came to my nostrils again. The smell kept growing stronger. I wondered where the smell had been before. I looked at the open sheet music on the piano. I thought to myself that the music I was looking at must be weird, depressing, classical music. I realized everything was set up. Everything that was happening was well planned. This was only obvious. I kept smelling the smell, trying to analyze what it could be and why it was here in this weird and cluttered but pristine looking place but the only thing I could think of was that it smelled like Death. It was warm and stuffy. I just wanted to get outside, away from the smell. She reappeared, wrote out the check and I was released to go outside. I walked outdoors. The fresh, sweet, summer night air seemed intoxicating. It was very dark. I walked along the corridor with the ivy to my left. I thought I felt more lucid because it seemed cool compared with the warm stuffiness of the house when suddenly there was a pale, ghostly stickiness and a gauzy halo all around in my hair. I was still walking and reflexively threw up my arms and hands realizing I had walked right through spider's webs. I was scared. I walked more quickly sweeping away spider's webs from my hair, neck and shoulders, afraid there might be spiders on me. I swept the back of my neck and down into my shirt collar. As I reached the steps I was thinking over and over how it could be possible that I just walked along that porch and along the same path and on the way back there was so much spider's webs. I thought how could a spider spin so many intricate, gauzy webs so quickly. The spider's webs weren't old and dusty. In fact they smelled fresh. As my feet were placed firmly on the pavement of the driveway I felt young, confident, lucid and virile. I walked towards the taxi, observing it and walked around the back of it examining every detail to make sure everything was safe and normal. Everything seemed safe. I opened the door of the taxi and proceeded to get in, stepping in with my right leg and sliding my body on the seat while my left foot was still on the ground. I reached my left hand to pull the open door closed after me when I saw it! There was a black spider, the size of the palm of my hand on the cuff of my shirt sleeve looking right at me, directly into my eyes. It wasn't fuzzy at all but had a smooth body that was completely black. Thinking without words in an instant because there wasn't time to think with words I realized I had to move left, out of the taxi, for fear of brushing off the spider so that it would fall into my cab where it would run and hide. Then it could attack me later as I was driving. I was afraid the beast would run up my shirt sleeve and attack me. I moved instantly to my left to push myself up and out of the taxi and to brush the thing away. As soon as I moved at all to my horror the large, black spider instantly raced up my arm at lightning speed, still looking directly into my eyes with a passion resembling extreme anger. I brushed with hand and was vertical with all my weight on my left leg, pulling my right leg behind me from the vehicle. The spider had disappeared. I wasn't sure where it was. I was convinced it had fallen outside of the cab as I stood in the now cooler but still warm night. I got scared and started brushing all around my hair, neck and shoulders, all over my body and started looking around me. I decided to be logical and with the interior light on and with my flashlight I inspected everywhere to make sure the horrible beast wasn't inside my cab. Still not sure, I pulled the cab out and resumed my night shift. No spider attacked me. I left the interior light on for awhile. I didn't receive this taxi call again. One night when after I got off work and got home about...

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