The Short Story Column

Two stories I like from SHORT STORIES: PART I

Chrystele Myriam

1. RED.

She always loved the color red. It was beautiful, different shades of red reminded her of a rose, until one day. One day a mission went terribly wrong. A demon found a way to possess her, control her body. She could understand everything that was happening, she tried to fight it, to fight the demon inside of her, but nothing worked.

After seeing Matthew on his knees, his face bloody from all of the punches the demon did, him pleading her, “please, this isn’t you…” and it was not her, but there was no way for her to stop. 

She hated the color red. It was dark, hurtful, bruised. No matter the shades of red, it reminded her of Matthew’s blood on her hands.


Oh, it was there, it was invisible to some people, a lot of people actually. But it definitely was there. It was present in every breeze, in every drop of rain, in every birth and death, in every floating leaf. Its spirit was as bright as the sun, as strong as a burning fire. It could destroy like a storm, but also heal like a caring mother. It was warm, safe, and sound. It was kind and reassuring. Only good and pure soul could see, witness the mesmerizing spirit of the forest. But when you saw it, you could only feel found, calm and welcomed around. It did not speak, but you could understand it loud and clear. It had thousands of thousands of lessons to teach, a large amount of wisdom to pass on to whoever comes lost. So do not be afraid, when you see it, you will feel it, you will feel everything. You will finally witness what this would genuinely have to offer, and how kind it can be to the right person. You just have to open your eyes, look around, allow innocence to find you again, allow your heart to open again, look at the world the way you used to when you were five, and you will see how truly magical this world can be.

And just to thank you here is a text from my upcoming book “SWEET WINTER” It comes out December 1st


No visits. Nothing. Not even a trace of him being there. I’m not one to get revenge, but I’m petty. And this level of petty I’ve reached was legendary. As I packed my bags and sang Christmas carols, I had a smile on my lips. 

Landing finally, I hurried off to my destination, one goal in mind. I knocked on the door, luggage still next to me. « Hi! What can I do for you? », « I’d like to see Mr. Claus, please. », « Oh, I’m sorry but he is resting. », « I’m sure he is, but this very important. », « Okay, let me see what I can do. »

After a while she finally let me in his office. « What can I do for you? », « Well, you forgot to visit my house this Christmas. » He frowned, « that is impossible. », « My kid cried and cried and cried because Santa — you — forgot us. So, I came here for an explanation as to why you did not come. », « I never forget houses. », « Nick, let me get this straight, I will not come back home until you made this better. Check for yourself and see. » He did so and looked even more confused. « I—I do not see your house. » I frowned, « what? » He showed me his map, and indeed our house or our existence was unknown from his magic. « How is that possible? », « The last time it happened it was because… No. It’s not possible. », « What? », « Your son is going to be my replacement. »