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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The Greek Letter
This Greek tragedy only involved the lowercase letters. The uppercase ones were exempt as they always are in everyday life, being uppity and larger, especially in comparison with the lowercase derelicts of existence, which are overused and even abused, a few of them much more than the others. It is thus no wonder that a tragedy ensued, which by the way can occur to any timeworn language, although in this case it happened to Greek.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Fiction
Breast Before Breast
Her left breast was last, at least on my mind, as the right one appeared before me like a small miracle, although it was voluminous and more beautiful than any moon, even the one smiling every month as if announcing its senility both to the Sun and any other observer.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Humans
Anthi's Mouth
You move me in one direction, as I can see a blue neon sign flashing in my mind: Anthi Is Waiting with Her Tongue Out. I look at your mouth but your tongue is still inside. I must have had a vision of the very near future, our soon-to-be now in all its splendour, or perhaps the barely past. I love you, my Anthi, now and forever. Methinks it is not enough. I will love you until the end of time. It is better, although it is undefined. What is the end of time? A space or lack of it where our essence is nonexistent or misplaced to another realm where existence ceases to mean anything, that is unless time and existence are infinite, which in the scheme of things, both known and unknown, seem about right from every side, slant and scale. Did I digress? Come on, M! I mean me, of course.
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Poets
