Black and yellow pit vipers lazed in durian trees, sleepy and fat under the Penang sun. Visitors to Mr Henderson’s plantation in Balik Pulau did not notice them at first, busy defending the split- open durians from the flies swarming their tables. Mr Henderson watched the tourists as they jabbered like magpies. Their eyes shone in lust for the creamy insides of the fruit, snakes the last things on their greedy little minds.
Into the open cartons under their tables they tossed the hollowed- out, spiky durian corpses and the plastic glasses from which they had just downed nutmeg juice. Over the years, Mr Henderson’s nose had so grown used to the cloying durian and the spice of nutmeg that he didn’t notice when they mingled with the plantation smell of damp, rain and joss sticks. But today the air seemed drugged by the smells rising from the courtyard. Mr Henderson took in a deep breath and decided to rest his legs. The chair on the balcony creaked under his weight, and he stretched his long legs far out across the wooden balustrade.
Inside, the old pendulum clock struck eleven. Its gong rang through the corridors of the wood-and-brick Kampong house, rose up against the shaded eaves, shivered against the doors of the rooms upstairs, then fell down towards the open kitchen. It mingled with the smoke that rose from large covered pots heating over a wood fire and came back to haunt Mr Henderson again. He hated that clock, a wedding gift from his father-in-law. But his wife liked it and he’d let it stay.
His head drooped in the wake of the ringing and the sunlight melted into an orange haze behind his shut eyelids. No matter that he’d now lived longer in Penang than in Ottawa – the daily tropical sun still felt like a personal blessing. He soaked it up and felt sleep crawl up over him. He needed to lie down, get an hour or so of uninterrupted shut-eye. But he wouldn’t give in to it, not just yet.
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Read the rest of the story here. (Might need to scroll down a little)
Novels and short stories are such different beasts–I admire authors who have equal felicity in both. I find both quite difficult and haven’t really been able to produce a decent short story in all the time I’ve been focused on novels.
Short stories need to show an entire world in a very few words, which is devilishly tough. A novel offers more space to depict a world, but it involves keeping so many plates spinning in air, without dropping any. And it takes serious work over years in some cases, depending on the novel you’re writing.
In the coming months and years, I hope I can finish a few more short stories so I can pitch a short story collection–I have some that might bear collecting, others not so much.
What about you? Do you find short stories and novels very different? How ? If you are a writer, which do you prefer? As a reader, do you find short stories easier or more difficult to read than novels?
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Beautiful storytelling Damyanti. And I loved what you said about two different writing styles but hard work on both. I actually prefer reading a book of short stories in between novellas. And I love novels with short chapters. No surprise I write in the same fashion. <3
This is why I love your stories so much. That was so moving… you write so beautifully. You steal all my emotions out of me to join you on the page….
I think I should stick to your short stories for a while longer. 🙂
That is so kind, thank you! This is the reason why I write! I’m incredibly grateful for your support, and I hope my other short stories end up being equally as impactful.
Excellent story. You mentioned Maugham, and that seems a strong influence there!
I find short stories and novels different, but not as much as some people. I like to think of a short story as being a very short novel – it needs to be as complete as a novel, and it needs to convey its world and story as well.
I agree! That’s the challenge — being able to portray the world in your head on a page, without losing any of the clarity required for it to be recognizable.
Enjoyed the read. You have a unique ability with words to take us into the story and see it with our own eyes.
Thank you so much, Ian! I really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
I am a big fan of short stories. They often haunt me in ways a novel cannot.
Thank you for sharing this poignant and painful one of yours.
Thank you for reading it! Many of my favorite short stories have stuck with me for years, simply because of how deeply they struck a chord. I completely understand what you mean about how haunting they can be.
I love your story but I hate the snakes🥰
Snakes scare me, too! I’m glad you enjoyed the story, despite the snakes 😁
You are a good writer Damyanti🥰
I agree with you. Short stories are a totally different ball game compared to novels. I’ve forever been a short story person. I enjoyed your story.
So different to read and to write! I’m happy you enjoyed it — hopefully, in time, I’ll be able to come up with more to share!