The Meeting With Satan (Excerpt from The House On Marble Hill and Two Other Stories by John Lars Zwerenz)

Brian felt as if he had expired upon that bed.  That in fact he had died.  As he fell into a kind of strange half-sleep he had never known before, he heard a horrifying scream from without his door:  “Satanas sum!”  At that very moment the ceiling of the room split in two.  Then in a fit of unspeakable horror Brian heard from without the door: “You are dead now Brian!  Welcome to hell!”  With fury and rage Brian grasped the doorknob, but his hand went through the wood and he found he could walk through the door without opening it.  “Who are you?!” Brian shouted.  “We are legion. And I am your host.  My reign here is eternal.  My name is Lucifer! I am still the brightest angel.  Behold my wings of white. They are brighter than your God, Whom you have rightfully forsaken. I have profited from the many contracts made between us. But I despise the very sight of you. For you were created in the image of my enemy. Your creation was an insult to the dignity of angels!”  Brian let out a hopeless scream and flew down the wild corridor where mad candles flickered red in an ominous hollow, endless row. 

From The House On Marble Hill

John Lars Zwerenz (1969- ) is an American journalist,
poet and writer known for his romantic,
impressionistic and mystical works. He
owns a Bachelor's Degree in English from
Queens College at The City University
of New York, but at the age of 24 he left
his graduate studies in order to travel and
write poetry. 

~ Rachael Canter

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The Tale of Susan Hathaway (Excerpt from The House on Marble Hill and Other Stories by John Lars Zwerenz)

Two weeks had passed.  Susan quit drinking and ceased to take illicit chemicals.  She began a regular regimen of exercise and started to jog around the reservoir in Central Park.   It was the first two weeks of April and the weather in New York was cool, bracing and brisk.  She reveled in the early spring sunshine.  She felt as if she had no cares in the world.  Towards the end of that month while pausing from a jog, Susan sat herself on a wooden bench by the reservoir.   She felt good though fatigued and was gazing upwards at the wide, cloudless sky which glistened above the southern cluster of the various, teeming and silver skyscrapers.

     Another jogger, a tall, young man sat down on the same wide bench to Susan’s right.  He had short, blond hair and sable-tinted eyes.  He was thin and very handsome.  He was wearing white shorts with a light-red lining and was donning a plain, white V-neck tea shirt.  He did not notice Susan sitting across from him.  He produced a small, black cell phone and began to text a friend.  Susan looked lustfully at his muscular legs, making sure all the time that the young man did not see the direction of her gaze.  She felt a burning sensation as she lifted her eyes which then admired the young man’s sculpted arms and his half-exposed, comely chest.  Susan then became aware of her attentions and felt a profound, guilty emotion, along with a decisive disappointment within her.  She made a promise to herself to begin a chaste way of living.  Yet she could help but become more aroused as she looked at this man in secret.  The harder she struggled against her lustful feelings, the more they increased.

    

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Excerpt From The House on Marble Hill and Other Stories by John Lars Zwerenz: Lament and Redemption

The first thing the doctors at the asylum did was to put Richard on a heavy diet of anti psychotic drugs. The effect on Richard was horrific.  He was agonized, yet he could not speak.  He was “jumping out of his skin” in a terrible manner that the other patients found very disturbing.  The doctors treating him and all of the nurses did not care in the least, and the more pain he felt was better for him according to them, it was what he deserved they said.  Richard’s room in the madhouse was fashioned with but a thin, springy mattress.  His roommate was a silent lunatic who uttered not a word.  

(Excerpt from Lament and Redemption.....From "The House On Marble Hill and Other Stories by John Lars Zwerenz")


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Excerpt

The Tale of Susan Hathaway

     The airplane coasted like a dragonfly across the vast expanse of The Atlantic Ocean.  Through her window Susan Hathaway could see the blanket of off-white billows a thousand feet below her.  She was high on pills and drunk.   She was traveling to New York from London after staying with her part-time lover in The West End.  His name was Phillip and she lusted after him.  Her relationship with Phillip existed merely to fulfill her sexual appetites.    She did not really care if he lived or if he died.........

(Excerpt from The House on Marble Hill and Other Stories by John Lars Zwerenz.......To be published soon)     

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