Passageways by Markus Taylor

“Passageways”

Complimentary ebook

“Passageways”

Complimentary ebook

Copyright

1st Publication 2012

© Markus Taylor

No unauthorized photocopying

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any

form, or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical- including photocopying, recording, taping or otherwise, without

the prior written permission of the author and the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1477539521

Artwork by Julia

Order “Passageways” from Amazon Books http://www.amazon.com/Passageways-passageway-discover-secret-behind/dp/1477539522

Now Available through Amazon Kindle

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008EJTRYO

“Passageways”

Complimentary ebook

Table of Contents

Blood Harvest

1

The Screen Cafe

14

The Confession

20

Suffocation

29

Sisters of the Lamplight

34

The Visitor

37

Add Me

45

“Passageways”

Complimentary ebook

Charlton Lodge

51

Whispers in the Wind

60

Around a Country Lane

64

Rendezvous with Change

74

The Disappearance

80

Blake’s Quest

84

Midnight Lover

91

A Fine Point of No Return

97

Epilogue

“Passageways”

Complimentary ebook

I

“Passageways” Blood Harvest

1

Complimentary ebook

Blood Harvest

It was one of those balmy tropical days were nothing much really happens, and most people prefer to avoid the hot dry season sun, and laze inside their homes. In the colonial section of town, Pieter was settling down for the day on the veranda of his bungalow, his thoughts dwelling on Holland, now occupied by the Germans, whilst his maid handed him a cool glass of beer.

Switching on a radio set beside him, hoping to hear the latest news from Batavia, the capital of the Netherlands Indies, Pieter sipped his drink, whilst the announcer brought news of the battle of Java. ‘The world was changing’ he thought, after five years of living well in this small outpost in the Indies, Pieter had grown fat and pampered, a far cry from his heady days in Utrecht, working as a policeman.

Pieter’s cold, stern wife Monique entered the patio along with his noisy son, Jan, temporary disturbing the calmness for a moment, whilst a newscaster spoke of “Staying alert and prepared .” Troubled by his son’s behaviour, Pieter turned towards his wife, Monique, who held a bouquet of roses, given by Frau Brinkman. ‘A generous gift’ he thought, considering there were few goods coming from the occupied Netherlands, anymore.

“Can’t you control him”, Pieter moodily said, watching his son excitingly jumping up and down on the wooden floor. “He takes after you”, Monique replied coldly, adding spitefully, “Your mother always said you were a troublesome child”. Sighing, Pieter, sipped his beer, his worried face telling her he needed to be alone. Monique, frowning took Jan’s hand and led him to his bedroom.

Listening to the sketchy news of the decisive battle raging in the seas surrounding Java, Pieter feeling depressed, ordered his doting maid to bring another drink, whilst a new report from Europe, about a bloody battle in Russia, starts. Hearing no news from his poor mother since the occupation, Pieter’s thoughts drift into nostalgic memories of his childhood.A bad feeling niggled him about his only brother, Henk, a radical who he suspected would be one of the first targets for the occupying Nazi’s. suddenly, feeling isolated, Pieter, rubbed the back of his neck, as if he was feeling a slowly tightening noose around it.

The European quarter was strangely subdued that night, as storm clouds brewed in the Pacific, with only the shrill cries of the seagulls flying above the deserted


2

Complimentary ebook

beach disturbing the peace, whilst Pieter gazed out to sea, beyond his picturesque garden. Sodden by too much beer, worn out by the continious complaints of his idle wife and the worry of an invasion, escaping from a darkening world, dozing off in his wicker chair on the patio.

Pieter dreamed of the contentment he had only found in the Indies, with an easy well paid job, untroublesome natives and fine weather, whilst a banana tree softly blew in the wind, its leaves casting a dark shadow across him, with Mozart playing undisturbed now, on the radio set next to him, and the sound of the crickets in the garden, mixing with the music, as if they were all part of an orchestra.

Monique, sewed in their bedroom, escape on her mind, as she bitterly blamed her marriage with Pieter for her unhappiness, cursing the filthy colonial backwater, as a deep pinning for home overcame her. Monique’s delicate fingers weaved threads into Pieter’s shirt. Each stitch entrapping her, with the reality there was nowhere to run, from a land she never belonged in.

The next morning, they heard the ring of a bicycle bell, and a nervous soldier from the telegraph office appeared, bringing a hushed Pieter, the news, that the battle of Java had ended, in defeat. Watching the bicycle peddle away down the neatly trimmed street, breakfast arrived. The deeply troubled couple ate silently, Pieter struggling to gulp down the thinly sliced ham, his head throbbing from a terrible hangover, and the news of defeat. Monique, coldly watched him as he poked the ham moodily with a fork, with a sickened look on his face, before saying, “Pieter, I think we should leave, there’s a ship bound for Darwin in Surabaya.”

Pieter looked up, still feeling rather queasy, murmering, “Look Monique, I have to wait for orders, are you asking me to desert?” twiddling with a peice of ham on his fork. “Can’t you see reality, Pieter, the Japanese are on the way, and we have no one to fight them”, Monique replied “ I want to leave here, its too dangerous to stay.”

Suddenly there was a loud, impatient knocking on the door, as they both heard the gruff voice of Colonel Brinkmann ordering their meek maid in to let him in. Pieter, gave the girl a nod and Brinkmann’s heavy footsteps entered their dining room. The short, wiry man stood nervously sweating in his combat uniform, bidding the Brouwers a polite good day, before sitting down.


3

Complimentary ebook

“Captain Brouwers, I’ve recieved orders from Batavia this morning, it’s bad, I’m afraid”, gloomily catching Monique’s gaze, “Sir, please tell us” Pieter eagerly said, as a brief silence entered the room, before a poker faced Brinkmann spoke, “I’m afraid it’s inevitable the Japanese army will arrive here.” Pieter sighed, and hesitated for a moment, “So, the telegraph I received this morning, was true,” his clear blue eyes staring directly into Brinkmann’s, “Are we to surrender?” noticing Monique, smile cynically at him.

“Well, Captain, we have been ordered to defend, until we receive further orders. You do understand what that means, don’t you?” as Brinkmann took the plate of ham. Pieter moved his half finished breakfast aside, and nodded silently, a gloominess showing in his expression. In a downcast voice, Brinkmann continued, “You see its an impossible situation, the natives could also rise up against us, before the Japanese even land.” Pieter, hesitated, and shook his head before replying, “Colonel, how can we defend anything, with only a few remaining civilian volunteers and troops?”

“Headquarters has ordered you to lead our civil defence force,” replied an unenthusiastic, Brinkmann, noticing a grimace appear on Moniques face. Pieter, wearily turned to Brinkmann, “Colonel, we have known each other a long time, being realistic how long can we defend against an army?”

Brinkmann, chewed thoughtfully, on a slice of ham, shrugged and stared at Pieter, “We have to try, Captain,” his cold brown eyes like dots, “I think we can count on twenty men, including ten natives, its a start don’t you think?”

A diminutive sultry maid walked in, catching both the men’s eyes, whilst she started clearing the breakfast table, smiling softly at Monique, before leaving the room. In a hushed tone, Monique, turned to Colonel Brinkmann, “What about the civilians?” an eager look of escape appearing in her eyes. The Colonel leaned over and whispered, as if in conspiracy, “We plan to take evacuate everyone, tomorrow evening, when the natives are praying.”

Monique nodded, a glimmer of hope appearing in her eyes, whilst Pieter seemed to look more saddened. ‘Sir, I am honored to lead the force that defends this town, but do we to evacuate, too?” Brinkmann, gazed in Pieter’s eyes, “I can’t tell you that captain, but you should prepare for any possibility, even surrender.” The hazy sun casts a deep brightness into the room, with Colonel Brinkmann, leaving the couple,


4

Complimentary ebook

his last words feeding on their silence, “It will be dangerous Captain, but protect the town and good luck.”

When, the front door closed, Monique stood up, “Pieter,” in a firm voice, “I am going to pack, the boat leaves for Darwin, on Friday.” Pieter, angrily rose and replied, “So you have what you wanted!” and without saying another word stormed out of the house, entering the prim looking streets of the colonial section.

Avoiding the shiftless, and squalid native quarter, Pieter headed towards Pak Malik’s house, hearing the call to prayer filling the breezy tropical air, before seeing Ayu, standing there in her sarong, her chocolate colored skin, glowing from the shower she just took.

Ayu rushed to him, and clung to Pieter, as he tightly held on to her, a sad look appeared in his soft blue eyes, as he whispered into her delicate ears, “I don’t have long, sayang.” Brushing back her silky, wet hair, Ayu, pressed harder into him, her petite breasts softly brushing his cotton uniform, “Why, my love?” she purred, feeling his heart beat faster.

Pieter, masking a deep sadness with a smile common to the natives of this land, “I just have some work to do.” as his lips pecked Ayu’s cheeks softly, before he whispered, “Take this,” as he stepped back a key glinted in his hand. Whilst she gazed at the tiny key Ayu’s curiosity grew “Tuan, What’s this?” confused, unused to the serious look in his eyes. Pieter, sneaked another fake smile, “If I cannot return in a day, open my drawer, there’s something for you inside” wrapping his arms around her again, before turning away, without daring to look back.

A preoccupied Pieter, entered the edge of the native quarter, strolling through a dusty, crowded local market, were thin, shirtless coolies passed him with overfilled baskets bouncing on their sides, which balanced from a simple bamboo pole that pressed into their wiry shoulders.

A native fruit seller sat on a dusty pavement with a tiny baby hungrily snuggling into her bare breasts, whilst she gazed blankly at Pieter. Unsettled by her, Pieter turned away and looked at the group of young women next to her, watching their hardened, but slender hands patiently separate fruit from the brimming bamboo baskets in front of them, beginning to feel like a stranger, who had accidently crossed into another world.


5

Complimentary ebook

Beyond the street market, he now entered the center of the town, where the more fashionable stores and cafes of the Indies surrounded a cobbled square. Pieter starred in awe, at the boarded up windows which appeared before him, oblivious to an odd suspicious glance from a Chinese storekeeper, peering through the curtains of a drawn window. Pieter, murmured ‘So is this how the end looks,’ watching dust blow onto the wooden boards, that once displayed the wares of his homeland, and the Netherlands Indies.

Walking closer to a boarded up clothes shop, and staring in through a tiny crack in the hastily boarded window, Pieter watched a rat jump on a still, empty shelf. Turning back to sadly gaze around the once bustling square, noticing even the absence of the smell of incense, which always drifted in the air at this time.

Pieter, beginning to feel something was very wrong, headed to the towns command center, noticing the unusually empty narrow streets, and the absence of the carts, where native women, sold fresh fish on. Pieter, moodily entered the command center, as a weary soldier saluted, unable to look up at the Dutch flag still flying proudly, above the building.

Inside, the gloomy sound of defeat echoing from a radio welcomed him, as soldiers and civilian staff listened to the crackly voices from headquarters, reporting the fall of Riau. Pieter settled beside the radio operator, noticing his almost deathly pale face. “Sir,” he muttered, “The fleets been destroyed,” Replying with a nod, Captain Brouwers, sat down, as the language of the invaders boomed out, whilst the soldier next to him, anxiously twisted the dial for news.

Pieter spoke softly to the operator, “Is there any news of an invasion fleet approaching here?” The terrified young soldier stared back, numbly “There’s no news, Sir, but I’m trying to find out,” a wheezing sound, then faint Morse code blasted from the speakers beside them, until the dial stopped and the clear sound of Japanese continued. Almost in tears, the operator whispered, “That should have been Bangka Island.” Pieter briskly left the room.

Pieter stared down at the telegraph, visibly in shook, whilst a worn out soldier stood beside him. “How long ago did it stop working?” pointing the telegraph machine, she looked at him, uneasily “Sir, it was several hours ago.” Screwing up and dropping the message, Pieter, rushed out of the communications room, only to bump into a frantic policeman, “Captain,” he yelled, “the natives have surrounded


6

Complimentary ebook

the police station.” Pieter could only nod, watching the trickles of blood dripping from the side of the frantic policeman’s face.

The bleeping radio blasted out a message in Dutch, “Your ships are sunk, your aircraft are destroyed, and your soldiers are surrendering.” The haunting words echoing until the light in the room died out, and the radio was silenced, whilst in the darkness, all everyone could hear was the sound of an approaching native mob.

Centuries of oppression vented its rage on the symbols of power. First the police station was trashed, then the mob grew in frenzy, and started to loot the stores in the town square, without as much as a shot fired in defiance.

Pieter hearing distant screams, and the thud of breaking doors, ordered the few remaining troops to evacuate to the jeeps outside. Weapons in their hands, they drove through the now deserted native quarter, behind them the din of the mobs and the shadowy light of flickering fires, whilst dark eyes followed them inside the bamboo shacks along the ram shackled street.

Bullets cracked over the leading jeep, as it screeched to a halt, and a motley army of natives came out of the shadow of darkness, encircling them. In their hands their sharpened sickles glinted, as the terrified soldiers, dropped their guns. The petrified radio operator ran, towards the native shacks, followed by the loud crack of gunfire, whilst those inside the jeep, stood, their shaking hands in the air, with the surrounding mob approaching them.

Pieter, swerved, when the first jeep stopped, hearing the yells in Javanese to surrender, and veered into an alleyway, the jeep crashing against the thin walls of the shacks, and crushing a cart lying on its side, noisily crunching its wooden wheels.

In the darkness, the scattered sounds of native women, argued and yelled, as a lost slow moving water buffalo plodded in one of the many nameless side streets of the slum, waving its large head around in bewilderment. The jeep screeched, as Pieter slammed its brakes, only to confuse the lumbering beast more, before smashing into its rotard body, the hellish screams of the buffalo, drowning out the cries of Pieter and the armed soldiers in the jeep, as it overturned.

A distraught Colonel Brinkmann drove through through the ill lit roads heading towards Surabaya. Monique Brouwers and Jan, sat uncomfortably, by his side as he


7

Complimentary ebook

concentrated on avoiding a deep pothole in the road, the car lights beaming across the lush vegetation of rural Java, now as frightening to them, as the mobs they heard enter the town center, before fleeing together.

Brinkmann, cursed silently listening to Monique continue to say “Faster, Henk,” as tears drifted down her fearful face, and a jungle appeared in the thin light, the car weaving through it, like a snake. Jan sat slunked in the backseat, only annoying Brinkmann more, repeating, “Where’s my father?” whilst Monique could only bite her lip, unable to reply.

Scraping the leaves of banana trees, before the car sped past an unlit settlement, devoid now of life, except an occasional hawker peddling hot snacks. Monique whispering to Colonel Brinkmann, with a deep longing in her eyes, “Are you coming with us, to Australia?” The colonel could only gaze at the road ahead.

The dim lights of the car reflected on the lush green leaves, flapping in the night air, as once more, the lush jungle appeared. Monique nervously stared into the wilderness, hearing the engine start coughing, and stop by the side of an overgrown grassy corner. “Damn,” cursed the Colonel, slipping out of the car into the night air, watching the steam rising from the idle engine, and hearing a chorus of croaking frogs.

Withdrawing into her seat, as the shadowy blackness outside infiltrated the car, Monique watched Brinkmann open the bonnet, whispering, “We’ll just have to wait here, “as a frown appeared on her face, seeing Brinkmann return and take out his pistol from under the driver’s seat.

Shivering, Monique, whispered, “Don’t leave me here, alone,” glancing outside towards the jungle, before touching the Colonels hand, with a vulnerable look in her almond eyes. Brinkmann sighed, and moved his hand away, “I’ll be outside,” gently closing the driver’s door.

Time slowly passed, with the sound of the frogs forming a chorus by the road side, breaking any silence. Monique warily opened her door, stepping out into the gloomy night, looking slightly embarrassed, “Colonel, I have to do something in private.” Brinkmann, turned towards her, his features alert, as if he was listening to the jungle. “Stay close, Monique,” seeing Jan laid across the backseat of the car, before throwing her a combat knife.


8

Complimentary ebook

Monique, picked it up, grinning back bashfully, and walked into the forest. Risking lighting a cigarette, its end glimmering as an alert Brinkmann, watched the corner of the road, ignoring Monique’s footsteps as she stepped deeper into the forest.

A bellowing monkey, leapt onto a tree, whilst Monique shuffled behind a thicket of wild bushes. Brinkmann tossed away his smoke, and steam rose around him as he poured water into the radiator. Hearing a twig snap in the jungle, he dropped the water bottle, and realized Monique was still somewhere in the thicket of trees, beyond the roadside. Brinkmann froze, scanning the thick jungle, with one hand holding onto his pistol.

Monique nervously squats in the thick grass, dropping the glinting knife by her feet, and clasps a nearby branch, watching Colonel Brinkmann standing by the car, through the shadowy light of the clearing.

Suddenly, from behind her an unseen hand presses thick leaves into her mouth, as something tightens around her hands and feet. Monique watches in horror, the diminishing figure of Colonel Brinkmann by the car, feeling the thick grass and tree roots under her, whilst she is dragged into the jungle, her screams silenced by the leaves.

In a clearance in the deep jungle, a small group of natives gathered around an ancient stone alter. Almost as old as the land it stands in, built long before the arrival of the Arab traders and the Europeans. A relic as mysterious as the ancient World, which existed long before colonialism.

On the freshly scrubbed stone alter surrounded by a circle of natives, lay a naked Monique, struggling with the thin strips of rope that bind her to antiquated stone pegs. Kneeling beside the alter, a long haired elder in a white robe, threw wet rose petals onto Monique’s, twisting body out of a hollowed out coconut shell, chanting in a strange tongue.

A drum bangs with Monique struggling to break the ropes that hold her across the stone turtle, feeling the wet rose petals drip and slide across her body, the chants and whispers around her louder, with each beat of the drum. Terrified, only able to watch the old man, stare up into the stars, chanting words she cannot understand, before he starts to sprinkle water, across her.


9

Complimentary ebook

Out of the dense forest a shape appears, the elder backing way towards his chanting followers until the figure of a dark, willowy woman appears, closer to the alter. The chants multiply, as she drifts over to Moniques shivering body, a golden dagger, glowing in her ghostly right hand.

Appearing before Monique’s pained eyes, her beauty so bewitching, the natives around her hush for a moment, mesmerized by her bronzed olive body, whilst her ancient deep brown eyes glare straight at a petrified Monique, and the twisted dagger falls deeply into Monique’s heart.

The mystical beauty turns as blood oozes from beneath the daggers golden handle, passing through the circle and vanishing into the thick jungle, whilst Monique’s life drains from her eyes. The elder shuffles towards the edges of the stone turtle, holding an empty coconut shell, collecting in silence, her dripping blood, whilst the men around her body kneel as if in meditation.

Passing the brimming bowl, to one eager native, who drinks liberally out of the shell, before handing it over another follower next to him. Once tasting the blood from the coconut bowl, each man stands and sways as if in a trance, swaying wildly to the growing beats of the drum.

Pulling out the golden dagger from Monique’s heart, the elder greedily licks the dripping blade , whilst at the same time the first Japanese troops land unopposed on the island of Java, unleashing a blood harvest in a land, craving for independence.

“Passageways” The Screen Cafe

10

The Screen Café

A silent looking gentleman stood by the doorway, and simply just passed on a sealed envelope to Veronica, before walking away as quietly as he had arrived- down the tree lined streets, near Veronica’s home.

Veronica reaching her late 20’s, her girlish looks faintly appearing on her attractive but tired looking face, stared at the envelope, tied with a simple red ribbon, with the curious handwritten letters eloquently showing her name, before closing the large, wooden front door and entered her home again.

Suburbia hardly suited Veronica, neither did the large wood paneled mansion, she called home, often thinking it was more like a mausoleum. A monument to her deceased in-laws, rather than to them, as she wandered through the gloomy passageways of the now silent, and cold house.

A clock ticked gently, echoing across the hallway, slow ticks emphasizing to Veronica, the longing for adventure again, instead of the slow, secure life of a wealthy suburbanite. She gazed at the envelope in her hand, wondering about the well dressed and rather old fashioned looking gentleman who delivered it to her.

Slowly, irritated by the steady ticking noise of the clock, Jack, her husband always proudly described to interested guests as a cherished family heirloom, the sudden sight of its silver face, made Veronica sigh, and eagerly tear open the finely made envelope, as if some long overdue curiosity has been awoken, after the months of suburban anonymity.


11

Complimentary ebook

There before her eyes, a finely hand written invitation in silver no less, was revealed inside the now torn envelope,” You are invited as an honored guest to the Screen Café at 2pm, this afternoon.”

Veronica looked uneasily at the invitation, as a copy of the address and a printed map slipped into her hands. An address she barely recognized, but gazing at the invitation again, Jenny puzzled, wondered what the Screen Café, was?

Placing the exquisite looking invitation down on the messy table were Veronica kept her fine perfumes, and other bits and bobs, inside her bedroom. She hastened to get ready, anxious to leave the cold, silent house which she shared alone with her busy husband, and the memories of his parents.

Dressing in her most trendy but conservative clothes, Veronica brushed her long dark hair, gazing at the mirror. Spotting the girl inside her that had slowly aged, maturing in a feminine way, and remained as attractive as ever. An attraction Jack barely noticed nowadays, with business being so difficult, and the pre-occupation of the planned company move to the Far East.

Veronica, gladly passed the fading family portraits, left by her in-laws, along the hallway, feeling their stern cold eyes gaze upon her with disapproval. Feeling a chill, as she stepped out the house, jumped into her car, and never looked back.

Driving through the once great city, now a shadow of its great industrial past, with abandoned buildings, overgrown parks and a feeling of gloom as shabby looking locals walked unsteadily in the now grim city center. Towards shady country roads, and into a brighter yet disturbing countryside, were wheat crops grew lazily, oblivious to time.

Turning down a steep lane, she drove fast, anxious to visit the Screen Café, wondering who else would be there, and perhaps even the faint chance of meeting someone for an interesting chat. And there as she passed an abandoned farm building, she gazed in excitement, at an elegant gathering of people, sat outside a hastily put up marquee, with the faint sound of a piano, and violin, in the distance.

Parking, an usher opened her car door, smiling briefly and welcoming her, taking the invitation, Jenny passed, complying her with a solemn politeness to an empty table. Veronica sat down, and stared curiously the scene. Most guests were alone, she noticed, some sipping ice tea, others


12

Complimentary ebook

looking slightly bewildered as guest would be escorted into the awaiting marquee, and then simply just vanish.

Ordering a coffee, Veronica listened to the haunting yet hypnotic music, angry with herself for coming to such a dreary gathering. Casting a glance towards the older lady sitting alone on the table next to her, who looked as bemused as Veronica felt, and just nodded with a polite smile, turning to her cool drink for company.

Stroking her fair hair, Veronica tried to peek inside the marquee, as the music seemed to relax her, soothing her initial irritation, before an usher, came over and politely whispered, “Madame, please come into the Marquee.”

Veronica, eagerly took a last sip of her drink, and followed the usher, unsure whether this was a joke, as she entered the bare marquee, noticing only a row of empty canvasses hanging on its walls. She faintly laughed, amused by the odd scene. “A joke,” she thought,” an exhibition by some desperate artist seeking customers like herself.

The tall, thin usher just led her to a blank canvas, and whispered faintly, “Stare into the canvas, Madame, empty all your fears, and you will paint a picture.”

Veronica looked back in disbelief at the serious looking man, but something inside her said play along with him, as she stood there and gazed directly into the blank canvas, the violin now entering her deeper thoughts, focusing intensely at the canvas as faint colors slowly started to appear.

Focusing more, bringing all her inner feelings into the canvas. the faint blue paint, turned into a darker blue, with black patches appearing on the edges of the canvas, as the image of Veronica appeared on the canvas, in different colors, showing her lime green eyes, and curvy lips, as if she was actually on the canvas.

By now Veronica was intensely staring onto the growing picture on the canvas, as her slim, naked body appeared, Veronica showing no embarrassment, curiosity overcoming any initial uneasiness, giggled, as each intimate part appeared on the canvas, her birthmark on her arm, the scratch on her foot and even the bumps, she knew well.

In front of her, her facial features in the painting turned into a mass of confused colors as if it expressed all her doubts, feelings and disappointments. Until the finely painted portrait was completed, and Veronica stared at her nude, true self on the canvas before her, with a content look of amusement.


13

Complimentary ebook

The usher returned, quietly lifting the canvas, and covering it with a silk cloth, handing it over to her, politely asking her to follow, out of the back of the marquee. Veronica followed clasping the painting, unsure what or who painted such a lifelike portrait of her, so absorbed in the beauty she held, as she left the Marquee, and was led silently to her Lexus

Feeling there was no need to speak or ask questions, Veronica gently placed the portrait in the messy backseat of her car, and bade the grim looking usher besides her goodbye, as the engine fired and she drove back reluctantly to the house she slowly started to hate. Unknown to Veronica, underneath the silken cloth, the portrait changed, as she sped through the dying city center, back into the suburbs again.

That night she hung the portrait in her bedroom, as she giggled as pulling away the silk cloth that hid her portrait. She moved back in shock, as the painting had changed, the colors were brighter, and looked more flirty and playful now.

Veronica sat on the bed, and gazed at the portrait before her, hesitating as it seemed to change according to her mood, and the more she started to feel afraid of the painting, her playful image turned into one of fear, the portrait almost like a mirror of her changing emotions and moods. Now darkened, her lime green eyes dulled with fear, as dark paint crept around the nude-but unsure image of Veronica.

Listening to her husband, Jack’s car enter slowly into their driveway, the sound of stones crackling underneath the heavy tires of his company car, she ran nervously to the ever changing portrait, covering it back up with the soft silky cloth, before stumbling into the hallway, and rush to hide it inside one of the unused bedrooms.

There she placed it facing the dully painted wall, and stood breathing calming herself, trying to hide her nerves as Jack walked into the house, as a chill seemed to surround Veronica as she looked relaxed, and headed to welcome him home.

That night Veronica tossed and turned, her dreams erratic, disturbing Jack, who snored noisily his back turned. The dreams were always of the canvas, as if it was taking over, compelling her to awaken, but staring at her tired husband, she resisted visiting the empty guest room.

Jack left early, without awakening her, as Veronica slept in, waking up with an exhausted feeling. Dragging herself out of bed, not thinking about the dreams the night before, and the strange portrait she had hid. But her feelings did grow as Veronica seemed to give in the urge to visit the spare bedroom again, and nervously enter it, finding the portrait undisturbed facing the blank wall.


14

Complimentary ebook

Veronicas anxious eyes stared at it with a mixture of fear and curiosity, as she slowly stood over it and peaked into the portrait. Now darkened, her image of fear, mixed with slight frustration. Something drew her to lift the silk cover, and compel her to sit hunched against the wall, as she started to stare straight at the painting again.

The eternal ticking of the old clock in the hallway echoed in the room, whilst Veronica pressed her back into the wall, as her intense, glowing green eyes stared into the portrait, lost now in the canvas that continued to mirror her deepest, most intimate feelings before her.

“Passageways” Sisters of the Lamplight

15

Sisters of the Lamplight

High upon a rocky cove, the lamp of an ancient lighthouse, would spread its light far across a darkened sea, guiding anonymous ships through the turbulent waters, which surrounded the fabled cove of Venus.

Many a ship passes through the cove of Venus, sailing on towards the great ports of the East, the cove the final passage for the crews of the great schooners that sailed towards home after several months at sea. Its timeless light reflecting the first reminder that home is nearer for many a lovelorn sailor, as melancholy thoughts turned to a brief passing of joy, once the mighty light was seen.

The lighthouse keeper had quickly become a family man, the grim landscape and often chilly weather led him to often bed his practical, homely wife, and when his firstborn child, was a daughter, he dreamt of fathering a boy. Someone he could fish with on warm days, and share the secrets of the lamp, that he lovingly tendered, as it glowed across the wild waters of the cove.

Unseen ships passed, whilst the keeper of the lamp, grew older and wearier. His wife had borne three fair maidens, but alas no boy, so resigning himself to becoming the only man in a household of women, he helped raise three beautiful and fair daughters, on the cove of Venus.

Storms would pass, good days would turn to turbulent ones as the unpredictable waters around the mighty cove would beat against its rocks, as winds howled with misery and anguish, whilst out to sea mightier freighters would pass, ending the age of the schooner, and a new breed of seamen would stare into the black night, often in dread, and in solitude.

Adventurers, outcasts, and men of no home but the vessels they sailed on. Each with their own story, and dreams, as the lamp from Venus cove, cast a shadowy light of hope onto the sea, whilst they gazed deeply, into the dreamy, glowing water.


16

Complimentary ebook

Many of the seaman carried tales that became lost, for few sailors had a love of the pen or paper. Words were spoken, but barely remembered, whilst crews changed, and their hopes were forever lost. Ports grew, others disappeared, as the ships continued to pass, Venus cove.

Labia, the first daughter of the keeper of the light, was a strange child, growing into a young woman, she would hear voices, often in bizarre, and different tongues. Remaining silent about this, whilst her mother tended the home, and her father the lamp. Only to write the words down of the voices, when she was quite alone, at night.

Voices, which would bring to Labia, the tales of far off lands, with names she had never imagined, of brief loves, and tragic fights. All put onto paper, as if each tale, fed on her loneliness, every time she noted the words that came to her. Awakening in the dawning, as if from a strange dream, besides her on a wooden table, next to a half burned candle, laid the pages of another astonishing tale, Labia would hardly remember.

Once cold morning, her second sister Angelica, came to awaken her older sister, finding the pile of papers, fluttering on the table, only to decide to leave Labia to rest. Sitting on a simple wooden chair, she read each page, and whilst she read, music flowed into her mind, a timeless music, with each note changing with each word, and sentence, every tale playing a different tune.

Angelica brought her harp to the room, and whilst she read played the melody of one tale, awakening her sister to the beautiful, melancholy sound of her visions. A sound so sweet, it awoke her Father, and astonished her Mother, whilst they both now stood by the doorway listening to the melody of Angelica’s harp, filling their hearts with passing feelings of hope, and the images of different worlds, to their own.

The third sister, Katrina, who now was the apprentice of the lamp, after her Father, choose her to carry on its secret, heard the enchanting, echo of the harp as she tendered the lamp. Lovingly cleansing it of the night’s spilt oil, whilst singing magical words, to the tune played from the harp. Her sparkling green eyes, drifting away to the far off sea, as if searching for a passing ship.

The three sisters, Angelica, Labia and Katrina now had become part of the secret of the lamp, thought their content parents. Both contently retiring to the downstairs lounge, were they would spend their hours together joyfully, listening to the sound of Angelica’s harp, and Katrina’s magical voice.


17

Complimentary ebook

At night, a ship drifts through the cove of Venus, as the lamp casts a reflection, which wanders tantalizingly across the glimmering sea, and catches a sailor’s eye. Who stares into the enchanting light, awakening his memories and dreams. Enlightening Labia’s quill, and Angelica’s harp, whilst Katrina would burst into a haunting song, tendering the lamp that enlightens the darkened sea.

“Passageways”

Complimentary ebook

Enter the Passageway of Dreams, and Discover

What lays behind each Door?

The foreboding passage of secrets belongs to a place outside the realm of our own physical World. Along its walls, stand 15 doors, which open at a simple turn of a handle, leading a curious visitor into another tale.

Delve into the unknown, and discover what lays beyond each entrance, Unlock the mystery behind each doorway, witnessing the unfolding events that follow. Find out what happens to Jenny, when she presses “Add me,” reach for the secret inside, “Carlton Lodge,” and visit the mysterious cove of Venus. Discover where "A Fine Point of No Return" is, and observe the appearance of a "Midnight lover."

Explore passageways, where behind each door, a mysterious secret is ready to be told.

Available through Amazon Books

http://www.amazon.com/Passageways-passageway-discover-secret-behind/dp/1477539522

Order a Kindle Version

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008EJTRYO

Passageways by Markus Taylor

Documents

Transcript of Passageways by Markus Taylor