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Bouquet: Short Stories with a Buddhist Scent
Bouquet: Short Stories with a Buddhist Scent
Bouquet: Short Stories with a Buddhist Scent
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Bouquet: Short Stories with a Buddhist Scent

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A set of three speculative fiction stories with a twist of Buddhist philosophy.

Bouquet - Condemned to death for treason a pilot, who has made first contact with an alien species, gives a startling last confession.

The Eighteenth Vow - In a struggle for ultimate power, things are not what they seem.

Okasan - Is an eleven-year-old, who is obsessed with a video game, crazy or remembering something from his past?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 16, 2014
ISBN9781928064060
Bouquet: Short Stories with a Buddhist Scent
Author

Bonnie Ferrante

I'm Bonnie Ferrante, a hybrid author. I was born in Northern Ontario, Canada. I grew up in a mill town of about 1000 people. I moved to Thunder Bay (on the north shore of Lake Superior) to attend university, got a job teaching after graduation and stayed. I love being a grandmother and am so grateful my son and his family live near by.My short stories, newspaper articles and columns, and novels have been published traditionally beginning in my thirties. I was a grade school teacher for thirty-three years, ten of those as a teacher-librarian. Since retiring, I have begun simultaneously self-publishing novels and picture books and am doing my own illustrations. During the long cold winters, I spend most of my time reading, writing and drawing. Since developing Parkinson's Disease, I have switched from illustrating with acrylics and pencil crayon, to exploring methods of digital illustration I also have a blog where I talk about books (mostly for children), reading to/with children, parenting/families (both humorous and practical), writing tips, author interviews, and more.

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    Book preview

    Bouquet - Bonnie Ferrante

    Bouquet

    Short Stories with a Buddhist Scent

    by

    Bonnie Ferrante

    ISBN 978-1-928064-06-0

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

    Copyright Bonnie Ferrante 2013

    Published by Single Drop Publishing at Smashwords

    This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any existing means without written permission from the author

    This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

    These three speculative fiction short stories were previously published in print magazines – On Spec and Challenging Destiny.

    Bouquet

    The Eighteenth Vow

    Okasan

    Footnotes

    Connect with Bonnie Ferrante

    Other Books by Bonnie Ferrante

    Bouquet

    I want to talk about my soul, Peter. But, to do that, I have to tell you what really happened. Judge for yourself whether I’m a traitor.

    Assume this room is bugged. They still don’t believe I’ve told them everything. I’m not sure if they let you come because you’re my brother and this is my last day, or because you’re a priest and I might confess I’ve given away federal secrets. The guard said you’ve been trying to see me for months. I’m sure they’ve sworn you to confidentiality, which you will follow.

    The faithful Father Peter Baxter. Always true to the system. I prefer to be true to humanity. Humanity. Perhaps that is not the right word.

    Here, have a cup of tea, Peter, and a biscuit. Get comfortable. Civilized, isn’t it, even without bone china? They tend to loosen up on the last breakfast. You being a holy man doesn’t hurt either, I bet. Try this jam. Bookerman’s mom sent it. It’s out of this world. It’s a bit seedy, but nourishing. We both need our strength, at least for the next twenty-four hours.

    I know you’ve heard a hundred variations of the incident. Well, this is mine. We were flying south of Goose Bay. One minute I’m navigating the Vulcan, and the next I’m sitting on a soft, green floor. I didn’t feel the leaving. I was there, and then I was somewhere else. There was Bookerman, Fellini, and me, your out to make a mark little sister. Our weapons were gone. You’ve seen our pictures a dozen times in the news, but if you’d seen our faces then…

    Fellini freaked. Started screaming about how the air force had no fucking right to test new weapons on us without our permission. For a paranoid, he could sure be naïve. Bookerman, quiet as usual, inspected the walls and floor. He was our squadron genius with security systems.

    Fellini finally stopped spitting threats and made a drawn out promise to smash a few heads when he got back. Bookerman explored every nook and cranny three times over, but it didn’t look hopeful. The room was basically a box, no windows, a virtually seamless door without a handle, tiny holes in the ceiling for ventilation.

    The aliens brought food and water on reed-like trays in wooden containers. They wore long gowns, like monks. Dwarfish body type. Faces hidden by large loose hoods. Fellini told us not to eat. Three aliens, three trays, three of us. Bookerman tried to jump one of our captors, but was knocked off his feet by some

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