Cecil Stehelin
Stories (4)
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Gaze of the Matador
He wasn't a handsome man, nor was he smart. Not to say he was slow or foolish, merely that he lacked aptitude in the disciplines deemed necessary by academia. Mathematics, history, literature all held very little meaning to him. The only books he read were eminently practical, handbooks on carpentry, hunting digests, treatises on the art of survival. My dear Raul was interested only in what he could do with his own two hands, all other information was a mere distraction.
By Cecil Stehelin4 years ago in Fiction
The Man in the Box
Chapter 1: The John Garnet It is difficult to picture my life before I met Mazo. Not to say I’ve forgotten the twenty-two years that passed before I met her, in fact, I often revisit my formative years in meditation; what I find difficult to imagine, rather, are the whims and obsessions that used to course through me, producing strange leaps of logic to justify my reckless actions. Of course, it is natural for young girls to be foolish, and I don’t begrudge my younger self her mistakes. It is merely curious how impenetrable she seems now, her thoughts and desires a black box, with only residual evidence to give me a clue as to her intention. As if my head was an apartment and her merely the previous tenant, the chips in the wall and scuffs on the furniture her only legacy to the new renter.
By Cecil Stehelin5 years ago in Criminal
