bibitinsley
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I have 6 stories published in
2 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 4475 times
Bibi Tinsley
My collections
My stories
Untitled
And then It started. The dreams. Hundreds of tornadoes, whirling and churning, all headed for her. These dreams lasted about three months, and they occurred once a week. Each dream would wake her, and she would shiver, scared and sitting up, next to her peacefully sleeping husband. The dreams left, and she was relieved. Then one day she and her husband paid a Sunday luncheon visit to his parents, who lived in a beautiful and spacious high-rise apartment, several stories up. The day was gorgeous, one of those autumn days when the air itself sparkles in sunshine, and the breeze gives a premonition of the North wind, yet still warms the skin. One minute she was fine, as they sat in the living room, chatting with her in-laws, who she actually liked, and then suddenly it gripped her.
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- 670 reads
The Turquoise Earring
I leaned against the hot, wet stone wall, having found a perfect ledge to support my neck and shoulders. I closed my eyes and felt the water surrounding me, supporting me, soothing and clarifying, and I knew why the place was sacred.
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- 755 reads
My Father's Smile
We drove to the cemetery and I watched as her coffin was lowered into the ground. I held onto myself with all my might, terribly afraid that I would start wailing. I loved my Grandmother and I didn't want her to go away! At the peak of anguish, two bumblebees landed on top of the coffin. They were portly, as Grandma had been, and drunk with pollen. I watched, mezmerized, as they rose and started droning around my head. I have always been terrified of bees, but this time there was no fear. I was completely entranced, and I didn't hear what the Rabbi was saying, because I knew that she was comforting me, and I smiled. I smiled! Beyond death, her love was so tangible. She was spelling my name for me with two immense, intoxicated bumblebees.
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- 741 reads
The Last Goodbye
I had been out driving in the harsh remnants of the blizzard that had engulfed the city one hundred twenty hours earlier, the night my father died, and the room comforted me with its warmth and simple, intricate beauty. The man who had greeted me looked almost as dead as my father, his flesh pinched tight and white over the impossibly high cheekbones. There had been, however, a lovely graciousness in his greeting, and he'd acted as if it was the most normal event for a person to walk into a room alone with an occupied casket. I had been afraid at first, afraid of this final good-bye, but the welcoming glow in the room made me forget my fear.
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- 788 reads
The Birthday Arbor
We continued walking until we came upon a house surrounded by lush greenery. Now, this was the only greenery around, and it stood out in that desert atmosphere. An opening in the green revealed what lay beyond. A beautiful flower garden, with precisely laid out rocks forming a spiraling path through it. It was enormous and very green inside. A tiny old lady in overalls, holding gardening shears, stood in the midst of rose bushes, wearing a huge straw hat. As soon as she saw us she gestured for us to come in. Jimmy went, but I couldn't budge. I felt again as I had a few minutes earlier: too white, and therefore not worthy of going any further. I watched while the old lady and Jimmy started up an animated conversation. She looked up and took a look at me standing outside her arbor. She looked concerned, and then smiled sweetly and again gestured for me to come in. This time I did. The most peculiar thing happened then, and I will never forget it as long as I live.
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- 732 reads