Wiki-Tales:

Author: Divya Saksena We stared into each other ’ s faces, oblivious of the exasperated snorts and shoves of the populace whose progress we were obstructing. Then, very slowly, he put up his hands to straighten the clasp of his cloak that had gone awry as he had pulled me off the road. He looked around us as though waking out of a stupor and then addressed me again. “ Well, if you ’ re sure you ’ ve suffered no injury, we may as well try and pick up what ’ s left of your basket and its contents, ” he observed. His voice carried the arrogance of a man clearly accustomed to having his commands obeyed and without delay. But I knew I was responding to that unconscious assumption of my compliance contained in his casual “ we. ” He bent down to retrieve the few flat loaves and olives and fruit that had not been trodden on by the impatient pedestrians pushing their way around us. His helmet had tumbled off and rolled into a recess at the foot of the small drinking fountain that gush...

Author: Divya Saksena Browning rose to his feet as he smiled back, looking down first at the inscription, now almost clear of dust, then regretfully at his ruined handkerchief. “I’m Father Antony, of St James.” “James Browning.” The priest’s dark eyes darted a quick glance sideways at the gravestone then at his face. “Ah, I see! A relation?” “Mama...I mean, my mother…” en.wikipedia.org “I understand. But this is your first visit? Browning’s lips twisted. “Not really. The first time was when…” “Yes, yes, of course. May I help in any way?” “I’m almost done. It’s much cleaner than I expected. Do you maintain all the graves here? I’m impressed!” “We do what we can. Actually, you should thank your friends who come every year and clean it up.” Browning looked puzzled, as well he might. “My friends?” “Yes, indeed. A lady and her two sons. They’ve been coming every Christmas for quite a few years now. Earlier her husband used to come too, but the last couple of y...

Author: Divya Saksena “ Mad, ” was my annoyed unspoken judgment, “ clearly insane, poor fellow. His people oughtn ’ t to let him wander about, jumping people like this. ” Shrugging my bruised shoulder and wincing at the slight twinge of pain, I too turned away to resume my interrupted perusal of the ancient thermopolium entrance. Slowly, forcing myself to relax, I let my gaze travel over the heat-cracked but still brightly colored paintings of the long-departed owner ’ s family gods on the inside wall of the tabernum , down to the deep, beautifully tiled ovens for the earthen vessels of hot food, waiting so many centuries for the customers that would never come. Were the gods still here, waiting too, for the offerings denied them for so long? Unbidden, an unwelcome picture that I had been resolutely shutting out thrust itself again into my mind. Jerking it away with a toss of my head, I straightened my tee-shirt, readjusted the shoulder-strap of my bag and put my best foot forwar...

Author: Divya Saksena Glimpses of Eternity ******** “ Stop! Look out! ” he shouted as he suddenly yanked me off the cobbled street to the uneven, raised walkway with a heavy and purposeful hand. Startled, struggling to recover my balance, I wriggled round in his grasp to gape at a complete stranger. Well...not quite. I ’ d observed him earlier, waffling along at a sedate pace, seemingly absorbed in his scrutiny of the ruined splendor all around us. He ’ d been gazing with rapt attention at the friezes on the remnants of the overhanging arch of the Forum in a hideously academic manner that had made me nearly ashamed of my vulgar touristy curiosity about this place. I had felt almost like an intruder, desecrating the still venerable sanctity of Jupiter ’ s fallen Temple. Now he was staring at me wild-eyed, his hand tightening its grip on my shoulder. The concern writ large on his face was too obvious, too palpably genuine to be a fraud...or was it? “ Are you all righ...