The singing man

He was never just an ordinary man. He was a useless husband, an unstable father and the biggest ladies man in the town, with multiple families. He had eyes that couldn’t stop staring and touching all those beautiful bodies that constantly surrounded him. How could he resist? Everyone wanted to have a piece of this tall, handsome man with deep blue eyes. And of course, he had a ‘generous’ soul. Another Diego Rivera, among many.
The only difference was that he didn’t paint. Instead he wrote deeply, preached passionately and when he sang, the whole world around him fell quiet. For a second, all the worries were forgotten and the walls echoed back only the sound of the guitar and his voice.

His dream was to become the pastor of his local church. He was loved by his men. In his prayer group, he was just a simple man with a honest and sincere heart, that had the ability to comfort every weary soul. But his dream of becoming a missionary, a follower of Mother Theresa, never came true. Like every other place in the society, he realized even his church was no different to it’s tricks and games that it played to it’s people. He wanted to bring in the change and make a difference, but was quickly considered as a threat instead and therefore rejected.
His men were his life and losing them broke him. He never recovered from this fall and lost all his faith. After that all the former habits of seeking pleasure of all kinds came running back- women, alcohol, excess sleeping and smoking. He left everyone in his life, including his second family.

Last years of his life were spent as an ordinary man- a truck driver, delivering goods to the local stores. Sometimes alone, sometimes together with his youngest daughter. It’s when he also started to form a genuine friendship with his wife again.
But before he died, he saw a dream which warned him to either return to his family or continue his lustful ways and be punished. He made the wrong choice and disappeared forever…

Two soldiers

It was another night. Doors locked. Heavy footsteps coming closer. A drunken man behind the door. Shouting, screaming, pulling out the electricity plug. She and her brother, always two of them, in the middle of the same war. War of parents, who hated each other.

The little girl was scared. Crying, in her bed, hiding under the blanket. And it was the first time that her elder brother seemed to be scared too. The first time that he wrapped his arms around her, saying everything was going to be okay. Although both of them knew these were just empty words.

But for once, they had an understanding. They knew they were alone and forced to grow up as quickly as possible, because the only place where It should had been safe- their home, it wasn’t. So they held each other tightly. In the dark.

Two soldiers, growing up in a battlefield.