The Stone: Part Two.

by | Sep 25, 2023 | Uncategorized | 0 comments

pouring the Fevertree tonic water into her goldfish bowl of a glass.

At that moment, There was a tap on his shoulder and he turned around…

She wasn’t one of the half-dozen, thankfully as he allowed her to squeeze between him and the motor-mouth behind him. The latter moved begrudgingly, while decrying the lack of a wet fish shop in the town.

“It’s lovely to see you. Where’s the fella?” He enquired of his pleasant company.

“He’s binge-watching Netflix,” she replied, pouring the Fevertree tonic water into her goldfish bowl of a glass. The pink of the gin faded into the clear tonic, turning a delicate rose amongst the abundance of ice cubes. “What are you reading?” She continued, picking up the thick paperback from the narrow shelf in front of him. “Oh, yes. It’s on my list. Have you read…?” She then proceeded to rattle off six more titles, he knew he’d have to put on his ever growing list.

Soon the conversation turned from literature to death, as such chats often did. Mortality led to immortality and the existence of an afterlife. He could sense that the bore’s companion was more interested in their conversation than the sermon currently being delivered by his mate.

“Do you think there’s anything after this?” She asked, sucking on the thick black straw that poked from the giant glass sphere.

“Absolutely not. That’s it. When you’re gone, you’re gone,” he replied confidently, adding, “there’s nothing before you were born and there’s nothing after you die.”

Big mistake.

“Yes there is! I had a previous life, several in fact.” she responded, a frown appearing across her usually bright features.

“So, you believe in reincarnation?” He countered, taking a gulp of his own neglected brew.

“Definitely, I can remember every detail of my past lives.” She poked at the roseate mixture with her straw.

“In that case, you’d better behave in this life. Do you know that Hundus and Sikhs believe in reincarnation? What’s more, the being you return as depends on how you have conducted yourself in the previous life,” he stated positively. She let go of the straw and turned to him, a look of concern replaced the frown.

Meanwhile, the spectator switched off from his friend altogether and visibly leaned towards the elevated couple in the window.

“Really? Is there such a thing? I thought it was just me,” she declared, placing her glass on the shelf for the first time. He had her undivided attention. There’s no escape now, he pondered.

“Oh yes.If you’re a bad girl, you’ll come back as a slug. Or even a stone.” he responded triumphantly, glancing at the man below him. The fellow nodded furiously.


Today was one of those rare days, it considered. A day where gravity and the action of the moon on the tide conspired to bring the stone to the surface once again. Once again the discarded life returned; to that garden in Pakistan, and the series of events which ended in its current inert existence.

The young man was tormented by what lay beneath the thin cotton sari of the well maiden. It was as if the scent of the Jasmine flowers had intoxicated him. He followed the siren, clay pot balanced on her head, for several streets. In a particularly narrow alley, he took his chance. Grabbing her around the waist, he dragged the young woman into a dark doorway. The pot fell to the ground and exploded in a torrent of water, soaking the dusty ground.

The girl fought like a tiger as he pawed at her clothing. Her strength seemed to come from nowhere and he was almost overpowered by his slightly built victim. She turned to face him and a look of recognition flashed across her features. She uttered the single word that would be her death sentence.



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