What are Ozlandish Writings?

From July 2010 to December 2014 we ran OZLAND PICTURE STORIES as described below. Sadly though the number of writers reduced over the years and we decided to call it a day. We leave these as a record of the good times we had.

Are "You" ready to challenge your writing skills? Then participate in our OZLAND Picture Stories writing series at The Ozland Art Gallery.

Each month a new picture will be picked, from our OZLAND Artist of the Month collection, with different themes. Your goal is to write a 500-1000 word... poem... essay... or story about the picture picked. This is a chance for you to challenge your writing skills each month. Story can be written in ANY genre... sci fi... romance... ghost... fantasy... fiction... non-fiction... biography... mystery... historical... whatever your writing genre... feel free to experiment. Send your writing inworld to Sven Pertelson as a notecard to have it included on the web site. We meet at the The Ozland Art Gallery each Wednesday at Noon and 6pm SLT to read the latest submissions on voice. More Information

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Hot Afternoon - part 2 - by Sven Pertelson

Vasili offered his condolences to Takis on the loss of his girlfriend. Takis shrugged, "Really, ex-girlfriend, would be a better description. I only went to her apartment to drop off her key. We broke up over the phone while I was away. She did not take my good news at all well." Takis explained that during his visit to New York, for a master-class held by a famous chef, he had been offered a job ,at that same chef's prestigious restaurant, in England. The offer had been based on the strength of some of the recipe ideas Takis had produced during the master-class.

Takis turned to his work bench and mixed several clear liquids into a small spray bottle and took the lid off a steel vessel that issued clouds of cold mist. After spraying the liquid into the container he took a spoon and fished out a little white snowy powder that steamed gently. He turned to Vasili and said. "Here detective, try this, I invented this and then used it while I was in New York and it clinched my job offer."

Vasili opened his mouth and popped in the spoon. His taste buds were totally confused. It was cold, but then hot and then cold again, but it was sweet and then again sour and finally flowery. He had never tasted anything like it. After thanking Takis for that experience Vasili went on to cover details of Takis's travel timings and to try and establish any possible reasons for Xenia's death either by natural causes or more sinister means. All in all this interview was drawing a blank, except for that most wonderful taste sensation.

Back at his desk Vasili opened the post-mortem file that the had been left for him by the pathologist while he was out. The findings were still puzzling. Death due to hypoxia (lack of oxygen to the brain) but no signs of strangulation, drowning, smothering or any of the usual causes. There were some odd compounds detected in a swab sample taken from the areas of the skin damage. Capsaicin, menthol, geraniol, limonene, acetic acid and fructose. Vasili wished he had paid more attention in chemistry lessons. Some of the names were familiar but he needed to be sure and something was starting to smell rotten in Takis's story. Time to visit the laboratory and talk to a chemist and then back to, what he was now sure was, the crime scene.

An hour later Vasili stood in the middle of the patch of crazed marble where Xenia's body had been found and watched as two officers escorted Takis, still dressed in his chef's whites, into the apartment. “Takis Xana, you are under arrest for the murder of Xenia Salis, I know how she died and the efforts you made to give yourself an alibi. What I want to know is why?”Takis stared at Vasili, “How can you know I'm guilty? You have no evidence, I was not even in the country when she died.”

Vasili stepped away from the crazed marble. “It is all to do with hot and cold Takis, like your flavoured snow. Xenia died from lack of oxygen caused when you threw a container of liquid nitrogen over her. The intense cold cracked the stone floor and also lowered her body temperature so it looked as if she was dead while you were still in the air. But that could have been done by somebody else. It was you who gave me the last clue, the nitrogen vessel still had traces of the same powder that you gave me to taste with chili, mint, rose oil, lemon oil, vinegar and fruit sugar in it. Where else could that mixture have come from if not you?”

Takis slumped between the two officers. “She would have told everybody if I'd let her live. I would have lost the new job in England if she had told them the mixture was her recipe. I could not lose my new job.” He started sobbing as he was led away.

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