Guest Writer Spot

Today’s blog post offers writers the opportunity for their  work to be seen and read by others. I’m happy to accept stories, poems, articles – in fact, anything and everything. If you would like some of your writing to be featured on my blog, please contact me here or by e-mail:

My guest writer this week is Adhin Shamina. Here’s a little bit about her, in her own words:

“I am thirty two years old, married. From a small village of Saint-Pierre, currenly living in a village called Surinam. Working as Nursing Officer for twelve years now. Hobbies are cooking, reading , playing badminton and of course writing. Wish to be known by my words.”



“Should I go?” Even after living for twenty-five years like a nomad he was still in turmoil. The guilt of escapism haunted him but with his destination only a few steps away, there was no looking back again. It was a difficult decision but finally taken. Marc Williams found himself standing again in front of what was once his dream house, his abode of peace away from all worldly unrest. Even for a short time it was there that he had spent the most beautiful moments of his life with his beloved wife, Angela. But that visit was going to be life-taking for him.

In his old ragged jeans, worn out leather jacket and his guitar hanging on his shoulder, Marc managed to climb the few steps of the stairs. But his trembling hands failed to fight the key through the rusted lock. Marc would still have been strong at the age of fifty but so many years of alcohol dependence had aged him years and years older. He fought the withdrawal but it was too hard to resist. He had not taken a single drink that day. He did not want to meet her inebriated.

“I am sorry, Angela. Please forgive me. I am sick now. I cannot do without,” and he sat helpless at the doorstep, his hands in his pocket as he took out the bottle. On the last gulp he felt much better and the images around him were clearer. The vision of the place geared back twenty-five years in his memory.

Marc and Angela had just moved to the small village of Rose Valley after marriage. The city was only half an hour from there and Marc would go for auditions whenever he was called to. He was still struggling in his career as singer. But whenever he was rejected he would always find comfort and reassurance beside his beloved wife.

From the height where he was sitting, the different small lanes that ran through the village could be seen well. Marc remembered the rides they would take on his bike with Angela sitting behind. Her laughter and cries whenever he would speed up still echoed in his ears. The flashback was painful.

The wooden door creaked on opening. It had been locked for all the time elapsed. There was no soul who could have come to the house. Marc and Angela were married only for a couple of months when destiny snatched her so harshly and abruptly. Marc was left alone. Their family was still incomplete as Marc had thought it would be better to be financially stable before he could bear the responsibility of a father. He wanted to offer the best upbringing to his child.

Marc was in pain. He hurled open the door. The sudden entrance of light revealed the ugliness of the place. The gust of wind gave off a stale smell. The scenery was even more agonising. What was once his heaven now looked worse than hell. Marc closed his eyes and tear drops escaped down his cheeks. He walked through each and every corner of his house that seemed estranged. Deep in his heart he felt that guilt again.

Angela would be in pain too, he thought. What on earth have I done to her? She has always cared for her home when she was alive. How am I going to face her?

Walking through into the rooms gave Marc nothing more than excruciating memories. He would never forget that day when he returned home disappointed for not being selected at an audition. Angela was in the kitchen when she heard the sound of his bike. Marc entered and she could not wait to tell him the good news. She just grabbed the letter and rushed to hug him. Marc laughed with her along seeing her excitement. Unfortunately, he ignored that the letter she was holding would take away all his happiness. “Wait! Wait! What’s the matter dear? Why are you so thrilled? Your eyes are sparkling. Have we won any lottery?”Marc teased her.

“No. Better than lottery. You are not going to believe it. Take this. It’s yours. Now I want to see your eyes sparkling. Oh dear! I am so happy.”

Marc was always encouraged by Angela positive attitude. He somehow managed to calm her and they sat reading the letter together. It was an invitation for a singing contest in two weeks’ time. It was being organised by a music company for the promotion of new talents. Marc had sent his best piece for appraisal but with so many rejections he had forgotten it. The winner was going to be awarded ten thousand pounds and a five year contract. Arrangement for their stay had already been made by the organising team. They just had to pack their belongings and set off.

A few days before the contest, the podium was being prepared for the artists to perform. Marc and Angela went to see the work being done. Marc was proud to meet the other candidates and they sat together planning for their costumes and presentations. Marc felt his dream would soon be realised when he stood in front of the mike. The hall was then empty but that day was not far when thousands of hands would clap in his praise. He closed his eyes and in seconds he was carried to the world of stardom.

Then something happened, something devastating. Marc heard an astounding sound, then the cry of Angela in pain. His eyes wide open he looked around. Angela was nowhere. He looked behind and saw a crowd of people running for help. The guitar fell from his hands and he stepped forward. His pace quickened when he heard Angela calling his name and he rushed through the crowd. She was there lying on the floor, her forehead bleeding. There were cuts on almost all parts of her body. And beside her there was a chandelier broken into pieces. Angela was standing just under it when it accidentally fell down. Marc lifted her in his arms and rushed to the hospital.

Marc waited to see her outside the operating theatre. He had thought it as nothing serious as he saw only the superficial wounds. but he did not know that a piece of broken glass had penetrated her abdomen. The internal bleeding was so severe that any intervention might cause her immediate death. But Angela had something to tell Marc which she drafted on a piece of paper. On the last word she was gone.

It was no less than death itself for Marc. He lost himself when he saw Angela on the couch, lifeless. Her eyes were still open as they had been waiting for a last glimpse of Marc. He kissed her and came out. When the nurse handed him Angela’s letter, he dared not read it. And just folded it and put it into his pocket.

The bedroom was the last place that Marc entered. There he saw her, as beautiful as ever, smiling with life. Marc removed the dust accumulated on her photograph and their eyes met again. But then Marc had no courage to face her. He took her photograph from the wall and put it to his heart and dropped on his knees.

Then he saw the drawer facing him. He had left her inside. The letter that the nurse gave him, the last words of Angela. He had left it in there when he decided on leaving the house forever. He did not want to live with her last words but with all the beautiful words they had shared together. So he never read them but now he had to. Life seemed to have reach its dusk for him and he wanted to feel her presence before death would take him. He gently opened the drawer and found the letter. The writing had faded, yet he read it rather easily. Angela’s handwriting was not that difficult to understand.

“Dear I love you, you know that. And I will always do. Even I am going very far from this world you will always find me with you. And you know how? In your songs, your music and your voice. I want to live dear, and I want to see your success. I know it is hard but I know this as well you will not let me die forever. When you will get fame, the world will take my name too. Promise me, you will never give up your dream because it is my dream too. I do not have much time and I have so many things to say to you. Think of me in your words and make me alive forever. I love you dear, I love you so much.”

” I killed you dear, your dream…… and everything you have wished. Oh God! Why this? ” Marc had never felt so wretched. Every single second seemed like an unbearable burden. All those years of suffering in Angela’s memory was now meaningless for him. ” If only I had read your last words.” Marc was suffering like never before. And then his vision went blurred. His head was spinning, with hot flushes. Angela’s sweet smile was lost and he fell flat on the floor. Both his arms stretched out in his reach for her but she was too far. ” I am coming to you. Wait for me. I won’t take long.”



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8 Responses to Guest Writer Spot

  1. Annika Perry says:

    Esther, I like the idea of this guest writer spot and what a lovely story by Adhin. Very moving and we’ll written.

  2. Annika Perry says:

    Unlike me, obviously should be well!

  3. somewords4u says:

    Just saw my writing published. Many thanks Mrs Esther.

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