Email this Book

Time to Think : Eight Short Stories

By Taylor, Rigby

Book Id: WPLBN0002828065
Format Type: PDF (eBook)
File Size: 366.95 kb
Reproduction Date: 2011

Title:	Time to Think : Eight Short Stories
Author:	Taylor, Rigby
Volume:
Language:	English
Subject:	Fiction, Drama and Literature, humour, sex, fiction, gay, homophobia, philosophy, nursing home, evangelists, life drawing,
Collections:	Authors Community, Sociology, Literature, Medicine, Most Popular Books in China
Historic Publication Date:
Publisher:	Self-published

Member Page:	Rigby Taylor
Citation APA MLA Chicago Taylor, R. (n.d.). Time to Think : Eight Short Stories. Retrieved from http://self.gutenberg.org/

Description
‘Time To Think’ is a collection of eight short tales about how to cope with such things as unwelcome evangelists, visitors, praise, sexual attention, living in a nursing home, relations, genetic modification and sexual urges.

Summary
• ‘Spreading the Word’ – Sebastian and Reginald have a close encounter with visiting evangelists. • ‘Time to Think’ – an unwelcome visitor is startled into flight by his host’s philosophising • ‘Free Will’ - an impressionable young man does a terrible thing after reading a novel by André Gide •‘A Misunderstanding’— a young man pursuing his eccentric pleasures is misunderstood by a lusty divorcee. • ‘Useless Things’ – the boredom of life in a Nursing Home is alleviated by the arrival of Mal… but there are problems. • ‘I Arrived a Week Early’ – an accidentally irradiated young man sires a very strange child …perhaps the forerunner of a brave new world? • ‘Poisoned Chalice’ – a man puts his obnoxious nephew in his place. •‘Mens Sana in Corpore Sano’ – the attentions of an older man turn a diffident youth into a self-confident charmer.

Excerpt
Spreading the Word Sebastian gazed unseeing from the verandah into the sun filled garden. As usual a zillion thoughts jostled aside all attempts to attain a state of Zen-like relaxation. With an impatient sigh he sat up, dusted a few crumbs from the divan, rearranged the pillows then lay back with his hands at his side. Yogic breathing—that would do the trick. He managed to hold his mind still for at least three seconds before a large spider constructing an intricate web among the rafters caught his attention. He was already on his feet to get a broom when he remembered, and slumped back. ‘Your tendons will never repair if you're always on the go,’ the slim young doctor had snapped only an hour before. ‘Why can’t you just lie back and relax?’ ‘Because it’s not my nature,’ Sebastian had answered with a fetching sigh. ‘Perhaps if you were to massage me...?’ ‘And risk Reginald’s wrath? Not bloody likely.’ ‘Wouldn’t it be worth a broken arm?’ Sebastian grinned. ‘Not even you are worth that, Sebastian. Shut up and let the sounds of nature lull you to somnolence.’ But Sebastian couldn’t. Time plodded. He began to fidget. Struggled to his feet and leaned over the balcony rail. Turned and smiled at his reflection in the lounge-room windows, then returned to the divan that Reggie had dragged out onto the verandah, and arranged himself in an artistic pose. Not much fun when there was no one to admire the result. Where was Reggie? The whine of a vehicle crawling up the steep drive sounded promising. Raising himself on an elbow he watched an iridescent blue car turn in under the trees and fall silent. The humid air throbbed to the raucous stridor of a million cicadas. ‘Reggie,’ he called to a rustle in the shrubbery, ‘we have visitors. Stop massacring those plants and make them welcome.’ A few minutes later, virility artlessly accentuated by torn-off jeans and heavy work boots, Reginald was trailed onto the verandah by a middle-aged, portly gentleman in a wide-brimmed straw hat, grey suit, white shirt and dark tie. Scarlet and white trainers on tiny feet rendered the vision ridiculous rather than eccentric. Panting audibly, the man gazed back towards his car and dabbed his forehead with a large, damp handkerchief. Fallen arches, Sebastian surmised, wondering what surprises were in the briefcase the fellow was clutching to his sweaty bosom. The flat-footed man’s companion mounted the steps. Sebastian sucked in his stomach, arched his neck ever so slightly and beamed a winning smile at the dark, slim, handsome and hatless youth in white cotton slacks and open-necked shirt, whose sun-dazzled eyes were blind to the apparition in deep shadow at the rear of the verandah. Reginald waved the guests to low wicker chairs. Before they could sit, however, a discreet cough from the shadows made them jump and peer into the gloom where a young man sprawled elegantly—the tiny wisp of silk covering his groin fluttering in the light breeze like a turquoise butterfly impatient to escape. As an ornament to accentuate the golden hue of Sebastian’s satiny skin it was perfect; as a garment it failed exquisitely. ‘Lovely weather,’ Sebastian murmured, lavishing a seductive smile on the startled youth. ‘How thoughtful of you to visit us. Forgive my not rising to greet you, but I have a gammy foot. Are you lost? Tourists? Selling something?’ ‘No... no... we’re...’ Apparently mesmerised by his host’s groin the young man’s voice faded to a whisper. ‘We’re not selling anything—we’re giving it away!’ flatfoot interrupted, eyes studiously avoiding the piece of anatomy from which his companion seemed unable to drag his gaze. ‘Why? Isn’t it any good?’ Sebastian’s smile was innocent. ‘On the contrary! It is the greatest gift ever offered to mankind.’ ‘My mother told me never to accept gifts from older men,’ Reggie growled. ‘They always want something in exchange.’ He gestured impatiently. ‘Please! Sit down, both of you.’ The youth failed to conceal a grin and plonked himself down. The older man lowered himself suspiciously into his chair, coughed twice, stood up and gazed around as if checking the exits, appeared satisfied, sat again heavily, clutched his briefcase to his chest, stared fixedly at Reginald and announced, ‘I am referring to the gift of joy one experiences when one truly knows and lives with God.’ ‘That must be you,’ burbled Sebastian to the handsome adolescent. ‘You’re like a young god.’ ‘No... No I’m only William.’ ‘Well, Only William, I’m Sebastian and this is Reggie. Do you live with God, William?’ ‘Yes... No... I mean... yes but... I live with Dad.’ He nodded towards the older man. ‘Your mother must be exceptionally good looking?’ ‘Why?’ ‘You bear no resemblance to your father.’ William had time to flash a smile before succumbing to an apparently serious cough. ‘My name is Henry Shatter,’ the homely and sweating father announced brusquely, ‘and we are here to offer you everlasting happiness.’ ‘How nice of you, Henry.’ .......... ‘Now, let’s see if I’ve understood everything,’ Sebastian said with a frown of concentration when Henry finally stopped talking. ‘When God’s sick of watching us muck everything up, he’ll let us live in peace, love, health and harmony with everyone and everything for ever and ever... as long as we’re part of your gang.’ ‘It’s not a gang—it’s a congregation. But...yes.’ ‘Imagine, Reggie, you and me—lovers for eternity.’ Reginald’s expression was enigmatic. Henry turned an unattractive shade of grey. ‘No, no! There will be none of that!’ ‘What?’ ‘Sodom and Gomorrah!’ ‘Blessed if I know them.’ ‘Cities of evil punished by God!’ Sebastian leaned forward and patted the old man’s knee. ‘No worries, Henry, we’re not evil. You’d be hard put to find anyone more law-abiding and honest than us. Isn’t that so, Reggie?’ Reginald rumbled assent. ‘You may be honest and law-abiding, but you’ve just admitted you are a homosexual!’ Henry paused and pulled a face that suggested merely saying the word had somehow polluted his throat. ‘It is against God’s law.’ ‘So god hates us?’ ‘No! He loves you but hates your actions.’ ‘Goodness! Then why did he make us like this?’ ‘To test you. To see if you could overcome your affliction and be worthy of his love.’ ‘I don’t feel afflicted.’ ‘God sends troubles to test our worth.’ ‘Like plagues, pestilence, war and death?’ Sebastian smiled brightly. ‘Y es.’ Sebastian’s smile dissolved into a frown. ‘Are you sure he’s a loving god, Henry? Maiming, laming, murdering and spreading dread-diseases—just to test us? To see if we are worthy of his love?’ ‘Well....’

Table of Contents
•‘Spreading the Word’ • ‘Time to Think’ • ‘Free Will’ •‘A Misunderstanding’ •‘Useless Things’ • ‘I Arrived a Week Early’ • ‘Poisoned Chalice’ •‘Mens Sana in Corpore Sano’