H N Arabian Blog - Random Tales

 *** “Small World” succeeds because it whispers its tension rather than shouting. It lets the reader sit in uncertainty, much like the narrator himself. There are no dramatic revelations—just a slowly shifting sense that something isn’t quite right. The story rewards close reading and lingers in the mind, like a half-remembered face from the past. *** "Small World" By Harry Arabian It was Sunday morning—the one day each year I accompanied my wife, Marie, to church. It was a holiday tradition of sorts. The pews were full, the stained glass glowed, and the sermon—eternal as ever—finally ended, releasing us to the more tolerable part of the service: the social welcome event. It was time for coffee, cookies, and chit-chat with the congregation. As Marie and I made our way toward the refreshment table, a gentleman in his late sixties approached, smiling warmly. “Wasn’t that sermon something?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Too bad the coffee hour doesn’t rise to the same hei...

*** "The Dream in the Delta 88" is a psychologically rich, symbol-laden narrative that fuses elements of memory, identity, and generational legacy with surreal horror. At its core, the story explores the fragility of time and the subconscious weight of familial and personal commitment. Through a dream sequence that blurs the boundary between reality and memory, the narrator confronts an existential fear: the withering of meaningful human connection and the decay of self-embedded in symbols of continuity—marriage, parenthood, and tradition. *** "The Dream in the Delta 88" By Harry Arabian It was a warm Sunday afternoon when I decided to take my wife and elderly parents for a ride to the mall. I’d recently polished up my classic 1963 blue Oldsmobile Delta 88, and the idea of cruising through familiar streets in that rumbling beast brought a certain joy that only nostalgia can provide. The four of us piled in, our laughter echoing through the cabin as we rolled dow...

*** “Gyro,  Spinach Salad, and  Family Jazz Serenade ” is a deceptively simple story. At face value, it chronicles a few spring days in a student’s life—but underneath, it’s a meditation on the tension between structure and freedom, tradition and spontaneity. It celebrates the messy, surprising, and beautiful ways people connect—through food, through music, through quiet moments in back rows. Much like jazz itself, the story resists neat categorization. It meanders, it pauses, it plays with silence—and in doing so, it becomes a deeply human reflection on youth, memory, and the rhythms that shape a life. ***  Gyro, Spinach Salad, and  Family Jazz Serenade By Harry Arabian It was an overcast Monday—March 25, 1975—the kind of day that pressed its gray sky against the windows of the chemistry building and made even the fluorescents feel tired. I had just wrapped up a grueling Organic Chemistry Lab assignment on isomer separation and pigment extraction—caffeine, spinach c...

*** "The Red Hawk" is a contemplative short narrative that explores themes of transition, memory, and renewal through the lens of an aging engineer—Herald—as he and his team leave their long-occupied lab for a modern facility. Set against the backdrop of rural fields and symbolized by the titular hawk, the story blends emotional realism with subtle natural imagery to frame a quiet, personal reckoning with change. *** "The Red Hawk" By Harry Arabian It was our last day in the lab. The farewell unfolded under a wide sky, next to fields sweet with strawberries and rustling with the chatter of sycamore leaves. For over two decades, our white-walled building had stood proudly, its frame humming with the focused energy of minds designing machines—some so tough they earned reputations as indestructible, built for the gritty, tireless world of point-of-sale counters. In the early morning light, hawks circled overhead, as they always had—guardians of the fields, shadowed by...

*** “ Stars, Rain, and an Old Friend ” is a quiet, reflective short story that weaves astronomy, memory, and human disconnection into a touching narrative. Through the eyes of Herald, a recently retired amateur astronomer, the story explores how people drift apart, how the past lingers just below the surface of everyday life, and how moments of recognition—real or imagined—can shake us more deeply than we expect. *** “Stars, Rain, and an Old Friend” By Harry Arabian I’ve been a backyard stargazer ever since I signed up for Introduction to Astronomy back in ninth grade—Mr. Albert Halle’s class. He was our physics teacher, the kind who made stars feel close and planets feel like neighbors. That class planted a seed that lay dormant for decades—until now. Retired and living just a few miles from Griffith Observatory, I signed up as a volunteer Astronomy Guide. The observatory staff seemed amused at my enthusiasm. Sensing my sky-gazing dedication, they slotted me for two back-to-back shift...

*** “The Lone Ranger Arrives in the Village” is a tender, reflective portrait of a bygone time, delicately balancing the beauty of local customs with the wonder of cultural exchange . Through subtle symbolism, richly drawn characters, and an atmosphere of celebration and innocence, the story reveals how even the smallest gestures—a toy, a catalog, a hairdresser’s scissors—can represent a shift in identity and worldview. It is a tribute not only to childhood, but to a moment in history when tradition and modernity met at the doorstep of a goldsmith’s workshop. *** “The Lone Ranger Arrives in the Village” By Harry Arabian It was the festive time of year again—winter crisp in the air, fires glowing in every home, and the scent of grilled meats mingling with the perfume of dried fruits and nuts stored from last year’s harvest. Our little village had come alive with preparations for the New Year, a time when the cold months brought families together in the warmest of ways. We lived in ...

  *** "Victory Field Test Run" explores the quietly transformative experience of intergenerational bonding. The protagonist—a grandfather affectionately called Dada —becomes an unlikely adventurer in a world dictated by toddlers. What begins as a simple act of babysitting evolves into a journey through responsibility, nostalgia, and childlike wonder. The narrative shows how time spent with the young can refresh the spirit, prompting the adult to slow down, observe, and reengage with joy. *** “Victory Field Test Run” It was half past the lunch hour on a Friday afternoon. The last bite of my floral pâté—a lavender chicken salad on rye—was barely swallowed when the doorbell rang. I already knew who it was. My son Vic had warned me earlier that he and Mindy would be dropping off the boys, Herald and Tim, five and three years old, respectively. They were off to celebrate the anniversary of their first date—again. They never ran out of reasons to clink glasses. When I opened the d...

 *** “Sunday Heat, Ventura Detour” operates as more than a travel anecdote. Through its sharp imagery, compressed characterization, and ironic treatment of cultural rituals, the story meditates on the persistence of familial bonds amid inconvenience and the paradox of seeking relaxation through struggle. In its brief but resonant arc, the piece suggests that the true destination is not the beach itself, but the shared recognition of absurdity and joy along the way. *** Sunday Heat, Ventura Detour By Harry Arabian  It was one of those Southern California Sundays when the sun doesn't just shine — it declares war. Heat shimmered off the pavement like a warning, and the air buzzed with the sort of restless energy that drives every Angeleno toward the coast in search of relief. I was behind the wheel, gripping the steering wheel like it might melt right out of my hands, heading north on the 101 toward Ventura Beach. My older brother lounged in the passenger seat, his left leg dan...

***   In “The Last Stop at Vincet Farm,” the narrator’s quiet journey to purchase a simple rotisserie chicken unfolds into a richly layered meditation on memory, loss, and the enduring presence of the past in the natural world. Through subtle imagery and a deliberately reflective tone, the piece weaves together personal history and ecological continuity, ultimately offering a profound commentary on how place can shape—and be shaped by—human experience. *** “The Last Stop at Vincet Farm” By Harry Arabian At the end of a long day—the kind that wears you out in a way only real work can—I decided to surprise my wife. Nothing fancy. Just something honest and warm: a farm-fresh rotisserie chicken from Vincet Farm in Waltham. It had been years since I last set foot there, but the memory stuck like good soil under fingernails. I still remembered picking the freshest corn I had ever tasted—so sweet, so alive it felt like biting into summer. The clock read just past six. The farm store c...

*** While modest in scope, “Dan and the Rabbit War” provides a compelling meditation on the intersection of nature, effort, and community. Through effective use of setting, symbolic imagery, and grounded character interaction, the story elevates a seemingly trivial inconvenience into a narrative about human adaptability and the quiet power of support. The story reminds us that even small acts—pressing a help button, offering advice, or remembering someone’s herbs—can carry deep significance. *** Dan and the Rabbit War By Harry Arabian It was just past sunrise when I pulled into the Home Depot parking lot. The sky hovered in a soft wash of lavender and gold, the pavement still damp with dew. I stepped out into the cool morning air, clutching the last bite of my breakfast bar, and muttered under my breath as I pictured the latest garden carnage. My herb plot—once orderly and fragrant—had become a feeding ground for rabbits. What started as two fluffy trespassers had grown into a bold,...

      ***“The House by the Oak” elevates a domestic narrative into a meditation on inter generational bonds and the significance of place. Through its rich natural imagery, careful structural choices, and symbolic motifs, the story affirms the emotional power of rootedness—both in land and in lineage. The oak, pond, and porch are more than scenery; they are enduring symbols of stability, growth, and inheritance in a world often marked by transience. In capturing a family’s quiet joy and shared beginning, the story leaves the reader with a sense of reverent hope and grounded belonging. *** “The House by the Oak”   By Harry Arabian Finally, it was moving day. The sun rose golden behind the freshwater pond, casting shimmers across the still surface like blessings whispered by time itself. After a long, aching struggle—dozens of walk-throughs, nights poring over mortgage paperwork, bargaining that left us drained—we had closed the deal on the multifamily building on th...

*** “ High Water on Divinity Street ” blends the mundane with the mythic, the modern with the historic, to create a quietly poignant meditation on displacement, missed opportunity, and the strange comforts of being out of control. Set against a backdrop of torrential rain and rising floodwaters, the story uses its physical setting as a metaphorical landscape in which the protagonist confronts more than just a missed presentation—he encounters a reckoning with expectation, resilience, and time itself. ***   “High Water on Divinity Street” By Harry Arabian Cambridge had always seemed charming from afar—its cobbled paths, ivy-draped walls, and the mist of intellectual reverence that clung to every lamppost. But this morning, charm had given way to chaos. It was the second day of the Embedded Systems Conference, and I woke to the insistent drumming of rain on the sloped roof of my attic room. The small square window offered a blurred view of a tree that I guessed was a maple—its lea...

*** "The Color of Memory Tags" is a quiet, resonant story that captures the emotional complexity of endings, especially in industrial and professional spaces. Through its characters, it elevates the act of cleaning out a factory floor into a meditation on memory, value, and legacy. It reminds us that in every bolt or binder may lie a story, and sometimes the most meaningful things are hidden in the side drawer—next to a forgotten chocolate bar. ***  "The Color of Memory Tags" By H. Arabian The first Tuesday after Labor Day brought with it a dull gray sky that matched the color of the concrete floors we walked on. For the first time in decades, I wasn’t showing up to solve a circuitry failure or lead a design review. I was here to decide what stayed, what left, and what would be remembered. The corporate board, fresh with new faces and sharp suits, had made it clear: our era of innovation had ended. The electronic devices we once prided ourselves on had become mu...