Tuesday, August 25, 2015

An Excerpt from Insanity By Increments, Stories

Edward could have stayed to chat longer. Instead, he took out his wallet and proceeded to motion Danny over to tip him. Edward handed it to Danny, and Danny smiled as usual, thanking Edward and wishing him a safe trip. Edward walked out the door, seeing his BMW in its usual space. He got in, and turned the key in the ignition, but saw the silhouette of a woman hailing down a cab without much success, preventing him from leaving.

Isabel was flagging a taxi cab down. One by one, they drove past. Isabel saw an empty slow-moving cab approaching. Suddenly, the cab sprinted past, splashing her with standing water from the street. She took a little time gathering herself before looking for another cab, but every single one seemed to be occupied. Edward suddenly felt a wave of compassion come over him. She almost looked like a woman he dated a long time ago ... someone he had loved and lost. It stung to have remembered. During that relationship, love hadn’t been enough.

He called out to Isabel. “I’ll take you home, if it’s ok?” he asked her, his offer stunted by another splashing of the standing water.

She hesitated, but the downpour wasn’t getting any better. He seemed trustworthy enough. She weighed the pros and cons of letting her favorite author take her home in the midst of bad weather. He might have been her favorite author, but he was also a total stranger, a handsome articulate one no less.

It wasn’t a difficult decision to make. ”Sure. That would be wonderful,” she said with a smile.

- Dulcinea, Insanity By Increments, Author: Alaric Cabiling

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Excerpt Taken from Insanity By Increments

One October night, Marcela came home late, close to midnight. Saul was asleep in his room. I’d spent the greater part of the day with him, looking after him in the afternoon, cooking supper and feeding him, reading to him before bed. The street lamp sent a hazy light through the curtains, and I watched Marcela undress, ready to slip into her side of the bed, beside me. I waited patiently for her in the darkness.

“Where have you been?”

“Grant, I’m sorry. I thought you were asleep.”

She slid into the sheets quietly, facing the window outside, never once looking at me.

“I had something I needed to take care of,” she said. 

“What was it this time?”

“Just work. Go to sleep, honey.”

She might have expected me to stop there, but I pressed further. She was lost to me then. She had been for a while, seeing the man she'd met on one of her trips to Paris. I had even seen them in my dreams, their naked bodies, their smooth skin, making the kind of love that I had never known from her. She whispered sweet nothings to him and she had meant them, the way she never had with me, and never would.

“I know you’ve been unfaithful,” I told her, looking up at the ceiling, never once at her. She continued to face the window. She has resigned herself to this marriage, I thought to myself, eyes hot with anger and hurt. All she ever had to do was tell me she wanted out.


“Yes, I have been,” she said.