Of Wolf and Man

Im glad you found yourself to my little cottage. Come in, come in. Please. Ive just made some tea. Have a cup. There you go, sit down. I havent had a visitor in such a long time. I live here all by myself. Truth be told, I enjoy the silence, but I do miss the human company now and then. Tell me, son. Do you like stories with a bit of strangeness in them? You do? Thats good. I do, too. And I feel like talking, so instead of boring you with old-man babbles, Ill tell you an interesting tale. What you make of it and what you do with it is entirely up to you. Alright, then. Lets see Im around sixty one years old, now. The fresh mountain air and a healthy livings is good for the age, men get old, all the same. Anyway. This story here is about forty years ago. Thats right; its about the Sun Wars. As you probably know, the Kingdom of the Sun was invading our good land. And well Okay. How about I skip the details and go right into the fold? Ive sure youve heard most of the stuff a million times, anyway. So Ill get to the part you never hear of, even behind closed doors. A few others and myself- a squad of, well, specials you could say, I guess- had been sent behind the enemy lines. It wasnt easy sneaking through but we did and were there, and it was a vital mission. The right documents in the right hands can be
1 Shahriar Emil

impossibly powerful. We were in the woods, in our uniforms and our tight boots with no weapons except our knives and nine shot pistols. Darusan 500, I think. And we were supposed to live off the land, and by God we did. A hundred yards in front of us was the enemy base. More of a fort than anything else, really. We had to go in there and disable the communications link. It was a sub-base for a hub. If that went down, theyd have some serious trouble with links. And the place was supposed to be impenetrable, too. Well, it was near enough impregnable. Anyway, there were armed guards all over, with Bologois on their shoulders and more ammunition than there were grass. Our orders were to wait for one other man. We waited till dusk, and then the man showed up. He was ragged, tough, filthy and completely naked. We knew it was him because we were told hed be like that. He looked at us and just nodded his head, thanking us for waiting for him, Names Vole. You know the plan? We all replied in the affirmative. And we waited a few more hours. The moon was out, a full moon, but it was hid behind some real dark clouds. And soon enough, it started to rain. That seemed pretty fine with the new man. Thats when it started, and didnt end soon enough, if you ask me. He nodded at us once again and started to head towards the fort. We were all staring after him wondering what the hell he was planning to do. We were good soldiers, but this man with his white hair was supposed to be something else.

Shahriar Emil

Well that suited fine with us. And off he went just waltzing in towards the front door. We saw two soldiers up on the battlements look down at him not even aiming their gun at him. He knocked on the door as if he was visiting his courtesan or some such. And sure enough, the huge double doors opened right up and an officer came forward. They chatted for a minute, before the officer threw a cross at Vole, and down he went. If we were lesser men wed have panicked. But, we didnt. And things were still going to plan. And it was the waiting game, once again. The rain fell all around us, soaking us in our fear and our doubts and responsibilities to our land. There was a howl in the distance, followed by several more near around. The wolves were out hunting tonight. And then the strangest thing happened. It chilled our blood and bones and made us shiver like wed been frozen right there and then. We looked at each other and just kept quiet as another howl came up from the fort. We just kept quiet and hugged ourselves to keep out the cold. The rain died down slowly, but the howls just kept on going, and the other ones seemed closer now. We heard a scream from inside the fort, and we were all looking at that huge building with our eyes bulging out. And you know what happened? These enormous wolves we heard appeared out of the dark, and padded up to the fort. Huge bear-like wolves. You could see their sharp teeth clear as day, so big they were. They were in front of the double doors and just stood there waiting, paws dug into the ground, like coiled

Shahriar Emil

spring. Then another howl went up from inside the sub-base. And the wolves? Quick as lightning, they leaped towards the door, and splinters were everywhere. We heard a lot more screams after that, all of them human. And then it was silent. Just nothing. The rain had stopped, and we could hear the trees rustling, and that was about it The wolves padded out of the broken door. There was blood all over their furs, thick and sticky and some already dried. It scared the hell out of us. We just stared on. After all the wolves came out, our man did too. Still naked, but covered with blood. His eyes were glowing and he had something in his hand. It was a crystal. And that little thing glowed, too, as if it held all the magic in the world. There was a gun fire, and all those glowing eyes, of the man and the wolves, turned towards the sound. A platoon came towards them armed with rifles. That was when we jumped into action. We only had nine shot pistols. But we were darn good at using them. And we hardly missed. We were firing at them, getting them left and right. We had good cover so they didnt see us. The man and the wolves began to run the other way. I saw the man put the crystal in his mouth and he leapt. And that was the last I saw of the man. Because what I saw then was no man. In midair, he changed. He changed, right in front of us into a damned white wolf! I swear to God he did. The crystal was still in his mouth, and him and his pack of wolves just kept on running and running and running. We kept on shooting and shooting and

Shahriar Emil

shooting. The platoon was shooting right back at us, but some were still shooting towards the wolves. I ran out, and reloaded. I looked at the pack and I saw our man, our Wolfman, spit the little crystal into the air. With a swipe of his paw, the crystal shattered, and there was an explosion of light. We had more cover of darkness in the woods so we werent as blinded as the enemy. We were able to take out the rest of them in the confusion. And then we looked at the wolves. They were circling the shimmering light, and it just hung there in the air. Our Wolfman looked back at us and dropped its head just a slight little as if to nod its head. We did the same. And then they were gone. So was the light. We went into the building and we took out everything that needed taking out and we returned to our rendezvous point, and well, we never talked about it again It isnt something you talk about often. Les they lock you up in a mental asylum, you know? There you have it, son. One story, fresh and strange. I see youve drunk your tea And its getting dark outside. You want to head off? Thats wise. Woods arent safe in this season. You take care now, you hear? And dont go running into trouble.

Shahriar Emil

The Crow
Writers note: Ive never considered myself a writer of poetry. But I guess sometimes you just have to try. Heres the result. I tried to be humorous. Im not good at that either.

Once upon a time, I stumbled upon a crow. And the crow said to me, "Why are you so slow?" I looked about me and I wondered, How I could be so, When it was all I could do to move against the winds that blow. The crow crowed, and said, "You're a fool." I looked about me once more, and stumbled upon a stool. The crow crowed again and said, "Do you see?" I was quite dizzy, you know and so I asked, "Do you mean me?" The crow creaked a laughter and said, "Possibly." Confused and puzzled, I crooked a frown, "What have I done to thee?" Impossible as it was, the crow smirked bitterly, And sure to say, I was fuming, terribly. "Cruel and mean creature. Knave." I said, "Stop taunting me." Another croaked laughter erupted, "I only say what I perceive." I began to weep like a child, though I didn't know why. The crow crowed and flew away leaving me very low and dry.

Shahriar Emil

Walk a mile

Writers note: Bangladesh is a country overrun by poverty and the majority of the population has to earn their keep through menial manual labor. Pulling rickshaws and carrying passengers to their destination is one of them. Almost always, these are people with a bitter story to their lives. But sometimes, you see someone whose smile life just cant take away. Do you feel sad for the man who can smile despite his luck?

I met a man once. Even in the cold of the night, he wears just a sarong, a shirt and a winter cap on his head. The cold doesnt bother him much anymore; it has been a long time since he got used to it. Every day he takes out his rickshaw and wanders the city saving up on his meager fares to survive the day and move on to the next. Hes a simple man, and he has simple needs. Long hair and long beard, he doesnt care so long as he gets his fares. And even though he has to give away a part of his earnings every night, its not enough to dishearten him. He sleeps in the rickshaw garage at night. He likes the silence and the emptiness; he says with a happy smile, it helps him sleep better. He spends some of the night in contemplation, about his lonely life and the freedom it gives him. He looks at the dark sky, the moon and the stars covered up by a blanket of smog, and he hums and sings to himself. Humming under the stars without worries and without a care in the world, he drifts off into the sleep, enjoying the sound of silence. He never hears the footsteps, and he never feels the hands on his feet, nor does he hear the thief running off into the distance, a pair of torn and battered shoes in his hands. The rickshaw-puller keeps on dreaming about a quiet world, a smile on his face. He wakes up the next day barefooted. Hurt and confused, he trudges through the day, still earning his meager fares and still surviving the day. Shoes or no shoes, everyone
1 Shahriar Emil

has to walk his mile. He remembers the tatters and frayed plastic, smiles and asks himself, Why would you steal another mans shoes?

Shahriar Emil