Patrick M. Ohana
Bio
A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.
Stories (575)
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I Will Love You for 24,000 Years
In 2013, news appeared about a newly found world, nicknamed “Einstein’s planet”, that orbits its star every 36 hours. It is located around 2,000 light-years from Earth in the Cygnus constellation. Since a year is so short on this planet, any intelligent life must be very brilliant.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Poets
Two Souls in Love
Once upon a time, in some specific recess of the Cosmos, two souls perceived one another, stroke their lights against each other, and fell in love. Their amour deepened beyond any known measure, steering them to promise each other, by sparkling endlessly, to meet again following their impending separation.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Poets
What Is Not Misplaced?
Almost everything appears to be misplaced in humanity's realms, as even the grass—not all grass—dislikes to be eaten and even stepped upon. A tree told me as much. Plants can speak, but humans cannot hear them or do not care to listen to their primordial plight. Wood is good, we are told soon after birth. Yet, trees are so much better, and much more important than humans. If the Cosmos, or the Milky Way, or only the Solar System had administered a survey, trees would win by a landslide, with or without grass on the ground.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Fiction
Snow on My Mind
The snow looked cold and wet but I only felt the warmth of her breasts against my chest. Fortunately, and unfortunately, it was all happening in my head; a waking dream or hallucination against loneliness in winter. In summer, her breasts would have felt much warmer, but winter was the season abreast in every direction, with a northern wind freezing almost everything.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Fiction
To Touch Them Again
I never imagined that I could feel this way. I may have read about it in an old novel or seen it in a black-and-white film, namely, the will and the need, not necessarily in that order, to die for someone or something in order to see her—it is almost always a woman—one last time. She has to be a femme fatale, one may think, or a muse, but she was—still is—the woman whom I wanted to taste again and again until my ultimate tastelessness. Now, I was ready to settle for one last time.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Filthy
The Beauty of a Muse
My experience with muses is limited to a single one and it is rather recent; only since the last week of November 2020. It has been just over three years since my life changed drastically again, from enough already to I cannot get enough. This case study is thus limited, but it could serve as an example of what to expect if you get deeply involved with a muse. It took me over fifty years to finally meet one, but she was so worth the wait.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Fiction
