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Fruit of the Clouds

Short story By: Zebadiah
Historical fiction


Where there are ends, are dotted lines, beneath those are worlds the size of marbles.


Submitted:Aug 15, 2012    Reads: 9    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I thought I could change the world with money. Many will remember me and say I have, but, as my blistered feet ache upon pebbles of dirt, the sorrow of my melodies may be heard through anyone who cared to listen. I abandoned my life, unable to look upon what I created, and gouged my eyes. Wherever I may walk, may I find eternal peace. But if it means that much to you, I will tell you but for a loaf of bread. Thank You.
Yes, yes, I won the lottery and used my wealth to create the imaginations of my thoughts unto reality. Of which wealth I inherited more money than anyone could spend in a thousand life times. I bought only one ticket, once in my life. Would you by any chance happen to have any warm water for me to dip my bread? Oh thank you! But yes, how curious to see everyone around me shell out bundles of their income in hopes of winning, but I, won with a measly dollar. A whim, because my father said i always had incredible luck, for better or worse, but he said, "son, on your 21st birthday you should buy a ticket, with your luck, you never know. All that bad luck has to flip sometime."

He was right, and he was the first person to receive the first letter of many. They went to everyone in my family that had at least a drop of my blood in their veins. Over a hundred letters were sent, plain letters, and simple font saying, "sell everything you own and arrive at my doorstep with nothing but the clothes on your back. Then give me all your money."

Of course the ones who called me incessantly once they found out I won (to ask for free money) did not respond.
But those that did, and they were few, arrived. My grandmother, my mother, my father and his wife and children (who were two of my half brothers) and mysister, 2 of my uncles and 1 of my aunts came. Everyone elsethoughtI hadbecomesome money mongol and did not think twice.
In sum i received 5 million from those who came. It was difficult for these people were so attached to materials, but they had faith in me. Never once have I gone against my word and never once have I done ill towards my family with intention. So when they arrived at my door, with nothing but the clothes they wore with a suitcase containing their entire wealth. I greeted them inside.
Thank you for the bread, this rain does hurt my sun scars, refreshing for a few moments but easily abused within moments.
"Would you like some more bread"?
Oh you are most kind! and I forgive the delay of the story, but your hospitality is rare for a man such as myself. You see, each night the cold rain harasses my blind eyes and my fingers bleed from shielding myself from the kicks of nasty children. My beard is a tangled mess, I know this because my fingers are caught in place in their failed attempts to comb each hair.
"If the story is good enough, perhaps I'll let you wash up"
Very well.
It was a small house and we were all cramped, forced to sleep in the same room. I slept in a room alone away from them. I overheard them bicker, "I thought it would be bigger" but I ignored their skepticism. They awoke early, perhaps because my uncles snored too loudly or because it was too hot. A lack of fan and air conditioner made them skeptical if i had even a few extra dollars in mywallet. But my sister reassured herself, "he was on the tv and he got a biiiiiiig check!" she grinned. Everyone else nodded and my dubious aunt spoke, "well idon'twatch tv". They began shouting and arguing as to whether it wasa goodidea to sell their homes and furniture, family heirlooms and all. Before they could doubt my intentions I entered the room with a silver tray. Silence pierced the room with the echoes of hungry stomachs questioning the motives of my appearance. Eyes gleamed against the silver plate as my uncle approached me with his slightlystubblechin, "is that food?" i replied "better" what could be better than food, they all wondered. ":But before i may reveal this gift, i need all ur suitcases".
they hesitated but my grandmother did not. she handed it over and kissed my cheek. like grumpy penguins they all lined up and stacked themon topof one another. I set the tray in my sisters arms and told her not to let anyone see what was inside. As i pushed the suitcases of treasure out the door i could hear their restlessness claw at my sister. When i had returned my sister gave me ahelplesslook with an empty platter and the silver top on the floor. Furious eyebrows scrunched their frustration as my eldest uncle, Alfonso, spoke, "what the hell is this shit?"
"its your gift" i said amused.
they did not share my imagination nor passion so i painted a picture with words,
"What do you want?" my uncle said, "food!"
"!Yeah!" came a few voices,"and answers!"
"no", i said, "what do you want?"
they stood silent with confusion scrunching their eyebrows. My sister spoke, "I dont ever want to worry about money;.
This got their imagination rolling but before their greed could consume them i interrupted "What do you want out of life?"
"A mansion"
"A boat!"
"To be a doctor"
"an island"
They still did not understand.
so i asked one last time, "you are all given one life. Just one and you spend it worrying over trivialities and drama. This is your opportunity to have your eternal dream fulfilled. I will make it happen. So, what do you want?:


My sister looked at me and said, "To see another world".
I smiled.




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