Antoinette L Brey
Bio
I am an elder in a time of freedom. I am now retired. All i want to do is have fun. Without a daily routine, my imagination is one of my only salvations. I am not planning on writing a book, it is just for my own pleasure
Stories (230/0)
The Arrogance of Men
"Tonight is the night that the world will stop. Tonight magic will start the talks." The thirteen women chanted the spell. "Esta noche ..."The spell changed from English to spanish. There were thirteen women from 13 different countries. These women were working together. Each women said two lines of the spell in their native languages.
By Antoinette L Brey6 months ago in Fiction
Seizedgaze
I never woke up early enough to see the sunrise, but last night I had fallen asleep on the beach. It had not been planned. I had brought my camera to take photos of the sunset. I took some photos and then froze, in a daze overwhelmed by the beauty. It was as if I had been caught in a witch's spell, I was frozen in wonderment. Unable to move, unable to think, the night passed.
By Antoinette L Brey6 months ago in Fiction
MY Cab
Every Saturday night was about the same. Downtown Boston was full of young couples. The young ladies urged their significant others to wave me down. The guy usually mumbled something about how he could have looked out for her on the subway. But my fare tonight was different. He appeared to have not been drinking. He didn't seem to even know where he was going. He just told me to drive, away from the center of the city. I headed toward Brookline, and then Somerville before he broke the silence. All he said was "She died, and I wasn't even there. I was forging our business when I should have been by her side." I was silent, feeling his pain. Then he continued "She promised me to go to the meeting and close the deal. So I did, and right before I waved you down I got the call that she had passed. Tonight I gave her her dying wish. but I feel dead."
By Antoinette L Brey8 months ago in Fiction
Rembrandt's Whore
The book "Rembrandt's Whore" by Sylvie Matton, looks at the relationship between Rembrandt and his servant and lover Hendrickje Stoffels. The story is told through the words of Hendrickje although she admits that she can not read or write. On some the pages she is relating her feelings to Rembrandt and in other parts of the book she is observing him. Her life story demonstrates the power of society on your life. Now a days we often believe love is all you need. That outsiders can't hurt you. When she moved into Rembrandt's house she was just a servant. Next she became a model for his paintings, and then one day he kissed her. In this story she declared that she loved him and his son.
By Antoinette L Brey9 months ago in BookClub
The Reunion
If I could relive the past I would not have gone to my highschool reunion. I had no desire to go. The past was the past not my future. When Alison called and invited me I found myself saying yes. It was fun to see her, and find out how her life had developed. The gathering went pretty much as I had anticipated. I talked about politics and other classmates lifes. It was a polite affair. We went into the cafeteria to listen to the speaker. Then my heart stopped. There sat the boy who had broken my heart during my tenth grade year. I instantly felt the same attraction. I know it should have been one strike you're out. I should have accepted the fact that he did not feel the same way. When everyone left he stayed at his table. I got the idea that he wanted to talk with me, but disappeared for three minutes to the bathroom. When I came out he was gone. I usually would not have gone to the party,but I figured he would be there. I became a social butterfly greeting everybody who entered the house. I was hoping that he would walk in the door and I would greet him, but he did not enter. Some of my highschool friends were actually there. Alison and I went out into the backyard. I was talking about how I wanted a house with a yard like that one. I was even talking about having children playing in the backyard. I wa on cloud nine but he never showed up at the party. His friends were asking about him. Claire the girl in highschool who he had dated instead of me seemed confused that he wouldn't come. She had been one of the popular girls . She was now married with kids. Not looking for a husband. Guys in highschool always preferred the popular girls, or those who would give it up.
By Antoinette L Brey9 months ago in Chapters
Title unknown
I wrote poems and short stories all through my childhood, but the first story that seemed to move others I wrote in college. It was about a young lady whose ex boyfriend marries her sister. She is still in love with him, and sits out on the cliffs and cries during the wedding. I cried while I wrote the story. I have never since gotten so emotionally involved in a story I wrote. I think I was exploring my relationship with my own sister. We were not extremely close. I felt that she always out did me , and shined above. My stories today do not veer into my psyche. They are not therapy they focus on my imagination. It might be good if I could write another story that could move me to tears as I wrote it. I no longer have this story. For years I guarded it, as one of my treasures. It made me feel like I was baring my soul. When I read it in class it got great responses. They even thought I had a signature style. Now a days I do not have a real style. You can not read my story and know it is mine. I write according to the vocal challenge. I have started several longer stories on my own. I keep meaning to expand my vocal stories. I tend to write more fantasy, about a world in the future or some obscure planet. It is never a perfect world, there is always some life lesson in it.
By Antoinette L Brey9 months ago in Writers
The other Boleyn Girl
This story helps the reader fall in love with Mary Boleyn. In the beginning of the story Mary is a pawn for her family. She is Henry the eighth's mistress. In the end of the story she is married to a man who loves her. She leaves power maneuvering behind
By Antoinette L Brey9 months ago in Critique
Anna and her Nana
"Move on, move on down the road." Anne was singing. Lost in her own world. She was on the way to her grandmother's house. She danced and sang as she walked. She was wearing the spring outfit that her Nana had given her for Christmas. She was very excited to be seeing her grandma. And couldn't wait to show her the outfit.
By Antoinette L Brey9 months ago in Fiction