Across Time and Riverbanks: Stories of Transition and Choice

By Stanley Winata

"Across Time and Riverbanks: Stories of Transition and Choice" is a short story collection that effortlessly stitches together narratives emphasizing the essence and complexity of human experiences across different settings, times, and decisions that mold one's existence. With a breadth of themes ranging from societal reflection, personal dilemmas, to spiritual awakenings, this collection presents a tapestry of lives intricately woven with the common threads of choice and transition.

The opening story, "Neighbouring Spheres of The Banks" (2017 Asian English Olympic Top 10 Stories) paints a vivid picture of contrasting lives across the riverbanks, sharply delineating the disparities in socio-economic conditions while emphasizing the innocence and curious nature of childhood. The visual storytelling here is poignant, highlighting both the beauty and bitterness encountered by the young protagonist. Metaphorically, the river serves as a silent witness to life's varying circumstances, subtly suggesting the idea that our environment heavily influences our opportunities and choices.

"The Alley of The Magdalenes" delves into the darker corners of human experiences, exploring themes of redemption, despair, and the complex nature of morality. Here, the juxtaposition of the sainted name against the backdrop of debauchery invites readers to look beyond the surface, touching upon the capacity for change and forgiveness. This story is a testament to the idea that redemption and transformation are possible, regardless of one's past actions.

"Time to Go" uniquely presents four intertwined narratives: "Destitute of Present", "Confounding Past", "To Shun an Adieu", and "Bourne of Time" exploring the transient nature of existence and the haunting grip of the past on our present. This poignant tale strikingly contrasts the protagonist's eventual hollow triumphs with his nostalgic yearnings for a simpler, more meaningful past life.

This anthology, while weaving distinct stories, maintains a coherent thematic essence, urging readers to reflect on the pivotal moments of decision and change in their own lives. The prose is clean, as Hemingway would advocate, filled with subtleties that demand the reader's attention and contemplation. The collection affirms courage and grace under pressure but also underscores the importance of introspection and the values we hold dear in navigating life's riverbanks.

"Across Time and Riverbanks: Stories of Transition and Choice" is not just a collection of stories; it's an introspective journey that questions, reflects, and ultimately, resonates with the universal human experience. It serves as a mirror, a reminder that amidst the ebb and flow of life, the riverbanks we choose, knowingly or unwittingly, map out the course of our lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stanley Winata
• Release date: May 7, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224737550

Book preview

No subject is terrible if the story is true, if the prose is clean, and if it affirms courage and grace under pressure.

Ernest Hemingway

We all fear death and question our  existence. An artist's job is not to succumb to despair, but to find an antidote for the emptiness of existence.

Getrude Stein

Forewords

Something foolish, something creative, something generous.

Table of Contents

I. Neighbouring Spheres of The Banks

II. The Alley of The Magdalenes

III. Time to Go

IV. To the Dawn, Morning, Afternoon, Dusk, and Night

V. A Cup of Time

VI. Out of The Past

VII. Tale Toll Told

Neighbouring Spheres of The Banks

It was gloaming at the station; the sun was setting alongside the fluttering clouds and the birds were chirping, returning their flocks to their nests. A roaring horn blew heeding the whole station of the arriving train. It was a long, old, silver train carrying wagons loaded by passengers.

The train doors opened. The crowded loads got off, spread, and swarmed the station. A small boy sneaked between the swarm, trying to find his way out. He wore a red cap, outfitted in a checkered shirt compounded with short and blue trousers. Equipped with a brown backpack, the boy strolled slowly but surely heading out to the gate of the station.

Once he passed through the gate, he beheld a long and crooked river extending afar. It spanned miles away and flowed in smooth current. Dock green moss blanketed the stones and pebbles scattered around, and plants were growing following the river bank.

An old paddling wooden canoe came by: he wore a round hat and dressed in a torn grey shirt. He raised his head, faced the small boy, and grinned. The griming old man's face was covered in wrinkles and his grin showed a set of yellow, porous teeth.

Wanna cross the river kid? The old man asked.

The boy nodded, stepped his little feet down the river bank, and sat on the canoe facing the old man who was still smiling at him. The boy smiled back, put his backpack down, and leaned his body to the canoe's edge. Thus the old man started to paddle, rowing his boat to the other end of the river.

The small boy discerned the river; the water was clear that he could see its muddy bottom; tadpoles were swimming in directions and small fish were hiding behind the river plants. Nonetheless, embedded white pipes were also on the riverside pouring oils, soapsuds, and wastes diffusing the water.

A pair of dragonflies perched on the canoe's edge. The boy tried to catch the insects, but he missed, and the dragonflies flew crisscrossing and roaming around the river's edge.

The boy soon looked tediously at the dragonflies as he beheld a dirty and vile pile of trash. The grubby trash heap was piling in disarray on the riverside; flies were swarming, rotten foods emitted a penetrating smell, and cans and plastics had turned into soiled mouse nests. Nevertheless, a big garbage can was left vacant on its side, secluded without anyone ever noticing.

A garbage truck appeared and parked at the trash heap side. Men wearing caps, orange shirts, and boots descended from the vehicle, sighted the garbage pile, and sighed regretting the empty garbage can beside it.

The boy's tiny, round eyes blinked. He gazed and wondered if there was still any human awareness of the river bank.

By that time, the wooden canoe crossed beneath a green and Strong bamboo bridge. The bridge consisted of five bamboos, it was tied on its ends and the knots were so tight that it left no gap between the bamboos.

The small boy had been amused by the bridge when a woman carrying a finely woven tray of cookies with her head arrived at one of the bridge's ends. Drenched in sweat, she stepped on the bridge carefully, balancing the round tray on her head. She crossed the bamboo bridge gaudily in her white blouse and headed towards a patch of vile and dense dwellings. She passed through a row of houses, halted in front of