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Amir Hasham's Page
Profile Information
- Favorite Quote
- Once more unto the breach
- Brief Bio
- A lawyer practicing civil litigation (civilly!) in Greater Vancouver since 1981. Has written numerous short stories, two of which have won him first prizes. Also writes poems (some of which poems can be read on the site of Canadian Federation of Poets) Will be posting some of his work on AFABW in coming months.
Amir Hasham's Written Works
Dame Beatrice
DAME BEATRICE
As she entered the room every eye turned towards her. Although past her prime, grossly overweight and with pouches under her eyes complementing her double chin, she still commanded people’s attention. For she was none other than Dame Beatrice Foster, the modern day Miss Marpol. Her reputation as a sleuth had spread far and wide. She was known for her incisive mind and her equally sharp tongue. She minced no words and was known to lash out at anybody whom she thought intellectually… Continue
As she entered the room every eye turned towards her. Although past her prime, grossly overweight and with pouches under her eyes complementing her double chin, she still commanded people’s attention. For she was none other than Dame Beatrice Foster, the modern day Miss Marpol. Her reputation as a sleuth had spread far and wide. She was known for her incisive mind and her equally sharp tongue. She minced no words and was known to lash out at anybody whom she thought intellectually… Continue
Posted on November 8, 2008 at 12:12pm —
End of the story
End of the story
…………………
The pain paralysed the boy, the slightest movement brought on a paroxysm of shearing white pain. He lay there panting and soon passed out. An hour passed and he gradually became aware of his pain again. The fence paling was still imbedded in his groin. Suddenly with frenzy born of anger, he grabbed the paling and yanked it out, an involuntary cry of pain emitting from his clenched teeth as he did so. He passed out again, his hands – still holding the paling – falling by… Continue
…………………
The pain paralysed the boy, the slightest movement brought on a paroxysm of shearing white pain. He lay there panting and soon passed out. An hour passed and he gradually became aware of his pain again. The fence paling was still imbedded in his groin. Suddenly with frenzy born of anger, he grabbed the paling and yanked it out, an involuntary cry of pain emitting from his clenched teeth as he did so. He passed out again, his hands – still holding the paling – falling by… Continue
Posted on November 7, 2008 at 5:30pm — 5 Comments
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This is great, Sharon. There's no void of down-toned comm on our planet today.
You make a great point about creating "good effects", not only in our art, but in our
lives as we lead them. That is what Ron says in Route To Infinity- just being a
bea…
Your verses leave me detached, suspended in the silence of me.
And then the endless contemplations of "what if" so much beauty
could fill the spaces of us all.
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