Patrick M. Ohana
Bio
Medical writer who reads & writes fiction & some nonfiction, though the latter may appear at times like the former. https://patrick-m-ohana.anthi-and-m.com
Stories (248/0)
Dog Day Morning
It was a very cold January morning; one of those arctic daybreaks that one often encounters in wintry Montreal. Deciding to remain in bed at least until eight, I almost imperceptibly heard the sound of a scratch on the door. When I opened it, I found a cute cocker spaniel about to freeze to death. I let it in and thought that I heard it thank me. I brought it some warm milk and could have sworn that I heard it thank me again. I was getting ready to leave for work when I heard it wishing me a good day. I looked at the dog, it looked at me, opened its mouth and said: “Yes, you heard me! I spoke to you!” I was stunned. “I hope that you feel fine. You look quite pale. Although I am a dog, I do speak, English and French.” I regained my speech, and with extreme disbelief told it — there was no one else to speak to — that I knew that it was a prank. “My names are Honesty, Good Dog, Bad Dog, Sit, Roll Over, Jump, Fetch, Come Here, and Get Out,” it replied. Still doubtful, I mumbled my name. “I like your name,” uttered the dog and wiggled its tail. “Thanks!” I muttered. “What name do you prefer?” I added. “Yes,” said the dog. “Yes?” I asked. “Yes,” Yes replied. I smiled and was going to feed Yes, but she asked for a rain check. I sat beside her with a large coffee, feeling silly for a short while.
By Patrick M. Ohana4 months ago in Petlife
Greece My Love
How can one relax and even sleep during a raging pandemic? To be extra careful in order to stay very safe depends on many factors, some of which are difficult if not impossible to execute and ultimately control. To be or not to be adopts a different disposition that may feel or at least seem new in a world still keen on living as if the all clear had sounded on Mount Olympus and on every other peak.
By Patrick M. Ohana4 months ago in Humans
Once Upon an Owl
Once upon a time I knew a woman who showed me her pussy but would not tell me her name. I thus called her Pussy. It is her name to this day. I think that she still lives in El Paso, or is it Chicago. I do not remember Pussy so much any more. It has been a long while. More than a couple of years. I would say five but M would disagree. He always disliked the number five. He even wished we had six fingers on each hand. The feet, he did not care, as long as the toes were nice. A dozen fingers actually sound nice too. With the extra two we could finger some things more. You know. New gloves. More nail clippings. Faster typing, I suppose. More itching coverage. Another finger couple. More status quo.
By Patrick M. Ohana5 months ago in Fiction
Anthi and M
Note 1 The real world is much smaller than the imaginary. Nietzsche Crete (Region 4) became heaven for Anthi and M; I mean me. We left Athens (in Region 1) for Crete as close friends and returned to Athens twelve days later as inseparable lovers. Anthi refused to speak to her husband, already considering him her ex and her why, though Delphine had come out from their union, the only worthwhile and beautiful result. I loved her, but I was green when thinking that Delphine could call me Father or Dad instead of M. I never planned to be a father, though I could never have declined the idea of a daughter like her. She was as wonderful as her mother, and the direct cause of our union, having revealed that her father was cheating on Anthi. I could not believe it. How could anyone in their right mind prefer someone else over Anthi? I figured that he must be demented and or as stupid as stupid can get. We were meant to be together. It was set in motion after the Big Bang. Goddess Athena only facilitated our primordial desire to be together, granting us a union in our nightly dreams. But it was Delphine who hastened our coming together (pun perhaps intended).
By Patrick M. Ohana5 months ago in Fiction
I Always Disliked the Sound
I think that I became a feminist during my first or second year of university, and in my case, in Montreal, in a French university where I also later received my English degree, a while ago now (I did not complete a final part of the MA), but I would not say that those were the days.
By Patrick M. Ohana7 months ago in Fiction
