Chapter-1: The Old Business of Men
Part 1
Diego glared at the cross and wiped sweat from his forehead. The image looked at him, silent and unmoving. He listened a bit more. Still, no response whispered or moved or sparkled down. A horrible quiet with no answer endured.
Only Diego’s silver pocket watch ticked away, heavy and solid in his hand. Another sigh and he adjusted his brown business coat, black tie, and wiggled his hot toes in his mid-shin black boots. He cleared his throat and looked at the nailed feet and hands, and at the bloody gash on the side.
“What am I to do, Señor?” asked Diego. “I don’t understand what any of it means.” He looked at the flickering candles to the side of the hanging cross. “What foolish business it must seem to you?” He chuckled with a red face as he turned to leave.
Diego squinted at the light entering from the exit of the cathedral. He moved toward it and lifted his left arm as a shield, while he walked with unsteady steps down the aisle. The bright light blanketed the small statues, oil paintings and onyx pearl tiles of the church interior. All a blur within the light.
Diego reached the exit and paused for a deep breath. He still had no answer as he consumed the aroma of red roses and incense, and jasmine perfume that attacked him. He frowned with weariness in his heart and continued, stepping out of the old church and into the scalding heat. A cold shiver spread within his body—he resisted it, fought against it and lost. He sneezed a few times and bowed his head in repentance. His right hand rose up quickly and shielded his eyes from the strong light.
He looked up at the stone ledges and found a bronze winged gargoyle frozen in laughter. The beast mocked him and reached out and judged him where he stood: a middle-aged man, tall, wealthy, athletic, handsome and unsettled by his dreams.
“God bless, honey,” said a woman. “That was me thinking of you.”
Diego lowered his gaze. “Oh … Esmeh.” He resisted his urge to remember, fought against it for another blink and lost. Memories raced up with each savoring detail he observed: thick legs, wide hips, slender waist, teardrop breasts and an enchanting milk white face. Deadly of all, her curly black hair draped over her soft shoulders, reaching down her mid back in a thick mane.
She tugged at her indigo dress again, lifting her alabaster white breasts and bouncing them into proper place, and smiled.
“Honey,” she said, “you’re such a tease. What a dirty trick you played, leaving us after such an active year. My ladies missed you.”
“They missed something else, Esmeh—not me,” said Diego.
Esmehraude laughed and blew him a loud kiss. She moved in closer, crossed her arms in a self-hug and said: “Come now, mi Guerrero, you’re special. Don’t sell yourself so low.”
Guiding questions for Comments: (What do you see?)
For those interested in leaving a comment, here is a list of questions to help guide your critique. Within the first page and a half of the story, from my perspective, I think I have provided enough information to answer the following questions. But, what do you see?
1. Who do see as the main protagonist?
2. Can you identify a current conflict that the protagonist has? What do you think he is trying to solve?
3. Can you identify an old habit the protagonist had or is moving away from?
4. In what general location does the story open with?
Thank you
I appreciate your time in reading this blog post. Next Monday I will upload the next part of Chapter One: The Old Business of Men, from my first novel: Guerrero of Passions.
Total Consciousness 