Author Archives: Tetiana Aleksina

You be the Judge

Sisterhood Forum International spokeswoman Mildred Tankard Smith was quoted as saying: “This is demeaning, inappropriate and troubling.”

Internationally acclaimed writer extraordinaire Tetiana Hennadiyivna Aleksina was quoted as saying: “Anyone care for a beer?”

Internationally maligned artistic ne’er-do-well Anthony James Single was quoted as saying: “I just like drawing boobies.”

Who cares if we’re about to be wildly improper? We don’t. It’s new Crumble Cult. It’s coming soon.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

THE CRUMBCAST // Simon Says and the Fresh New Hell

Argh, it looks like I let my guard down! It was another nice and unalarming evening. I was not doing any mischief, not touching anyone, fixing the Primus and stewing in my reflective juices…

“HULLO!”

Tony decided not to sweat about politeness and just poked his head through my window. Yuck! Time differences are tricky things when you’re halfway sleepy, and your writing companion is boiling and spluttering with words and emotions at the other end.

Oh my God! Did he want to talk about God?! No-no-no, may God keep me from discussions of God! With my brain on autopilot, I muttered something in Ukrainian. Maybe I didn’t even realize this at the time. All I know is that Tony stopped speaking and goggled at me.

“Ah, what?”

Oh… I explained that “Слава Богу, Бога немає. А якщо, не дай Боже, Бог таки є?” roughly translated meant, “Thank God, no God. And if, God forbid, God is still there?” Tony was like, “Okay, I still have no idea what you meant, but… sure!” and giggled. I don’t know why. Maybe my Ukrainian seemed funny to him.

I decided to give him a second chance. “It’s an oxymoron. Nonsense. Like that anecdote about the doctor and his patient.” Tony’s eyes lit up with interest. “Oh, what’s the anecdote? I like anecdotes!” I sighed and said, “A doctor wakes a patient by saying, ‘Patient, wake up! It’s time to take your sleep-pills!’” Tony chuckled at this.

“Yes, I definitely need to use this in my podcast…”

Why didn’t I pay attention to his fuss? Again, blame it on my drowsiness. Well, guys, що маємо, те маємо. Here you can listen how Tony parrots my Ukrainian, prattles something about Stalin and Simpson… and maybe something else. I fell asleep in five minutes, to be honest, and didn’t listen to all that Tony craved to tell me. Maybe you, my dear reader, can listen to the end?

This is a bit strange, but if you want to listen to the sound then you should click on the picture below. Yes, it’s real magic in the digital world, I tell ya!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016

GUEST POST // Eucharistic Liturgy of Lurid Life by Jonathan Noble & Tetiana Aleksina

Wraiths unseen creep in blight neath bed of night;
I belong to them, I am their birthright;
I long for them, sick in soul, and in their sight
Sit in shame like worthless baggage claim;
I am a merely pathetic acolyte
To perform unholy rite of morbid plight,

To cover the altar with a red baize,
To light poison incense in pretense of praise,
To robe a lump of clay of hard black glaze,
To spread bad bread to supplicants in puzzlement
As pyres are lit in fires for sullied, sordid men
Screaming with no more dreaming of redemption!

by JONATHAN NOBLE & TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2016

Six Word Stories #10

Shaken, not stirred… Your order, Countess!

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2016

Water Cure

“Drink.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Drink, I say! You look very thirsty.”

“But… Hey, what are you doing?!”

Streams of water pour on me. I try to face away… I try to cry foul… but my voice drowns in the streams.

“Drink!”

I splutter. I cough. A gray dusty clot, almost weightless, lays inside my empty head. Dehydrated words are tied in a bunch like Chinese tea.

“Drink!”

I choke. I’m full of water. The words start to spin in the whirlpool and swell. The words take shape and color. The gray dusty clot unfolds inside my head… blossoms… and slowly fills the entire space. Now there’s nothing except a big moist poem here. My head is full of the poem, like a tiny teapot with beautiful blooming tea.

“Well, my girl… Now… do you realize how much you were thirsty?”

“Screw you…”

I wipe my wet face and cuss mildly. She smiles and says something… but I don’t listen to her. I open my laptop. WP Admin, Posts, Add New…

by TETIANA ALEKSINA 
© All rights reserved 2015