Forbidden Desires
Desire Unveiled
My Dearest Friends, Writers, and Followers of our Pub,
Happy Valentine’s Day! 💖
May your day be filled with love, inspiration, and the beautiful words! 💕
This Valentine’s Day, I’ve been thinking of you all with deep gratitude — your energy, words, presence, and wonderful support — it means more to me than I can say. You are the heart of this community, and I’m truly honored to share this creative journey with you. Your support surrounds me like a warm embrace, boosting me up as we progress together.
Like many, I’ve been busy with work — translating a novel, managing our pub, and refining my online presence — while also exploring new ways to grow, evolve, and create. Expanding to new platforms beyond Substack and Medium, fine-tuning SEO, making upgrades. And… designing a new… secret product for our New Literary Society pub. We are all connected to this project, whether we realize it or not.
If, for any reason, you’d rather not be included — or if you’d prefer not to be tagged on Medium anymore — simply let me know.
More details about our new common product will be revealed in due time.
Please follow our pub if you haven’t already, and show some love on Ko-fi to help us fund our new common project.
Thank you for your endless support and affection. You are the warmth that keeps this space alive.
With warmth and whispers,
Julia
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To All the Dreamers
A heartfelt dedication to you, on this Valentine’s Day — may your heart be filled with love, your soul with inspiration, and your path with endless creativity. 💖
I hope to inspire you to pursue your wildest dreams,
to push your limits, and to discover the enigma
that lies in your heart.
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A Special Preview from My Upcoming Book
- Coming Soon to Amazon
- Pre-order your copy using the link below
The Plum Garden
The little Japanese girl was wearing a lilac dress and a white blouse with puffed sleeves. The white stockings with a garter stopped around the middle of the thigh, offering a glimpse of skin. And then the bows: most of them in hair, others on stockings, and one big one, at the waist. They gave her a playful and spring-like air, fitting for that day when the “Penis Festival” was celebrated.
Very nice up to this point; except that from the store’s mirror, a sulky little face was smiling crookedly at her because a man had just rejected her.
The cashier repeated, “A child is not allowed alcohol and cigarettes. The boss told me, ‘They’ll give you those big, pleading eyes, they’ll beg, they’ll insist. But don’t you dare sell them cigarettes, or they’ll be bouncing off the walls!’”
The little Japanese girl said, “But I’m not a child.”
“Prove it.”
“I love you… I love you more than coffee, but please don’t let me prove it.”
She didn’t have her documents with her, and even if she had, it wouldn’t have helped her much.
She left the money, chose a pink marzipan penis, and pushed it into her mouth. She whispered something and, receiving no response, placed her left foot on the counter in front of the cashier. The man raised his eyes just as the folds of the little dress parted, and from among them emerged a pair of lace-trimmed shorts. Then she reached out to the cashier, and the latter acted on instinct, he couldn’t have done otherwise. What did he do? He slapped her, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her out of the store by force. He calmed down upon seeing her crying at the door. The man needs to dominate a woman, that makes him happy, she said to herself. And she was right, at least in that case, because his face lit up. Maybe it was just like that, or maybe his smile was sparked by the sight of the procession that was just passing by on the street.
She turned around too and was left with her mouth agape at the monumental golden phallus that the priests were dancing with on their way to the temple.
It’s just that she was kind of done celebrating.
She turned her back on the revelers. She walked away until the noise faded behind her.
She might have walked for more than half an hour until she reached the Plum Garden. The garden was laid out on a hill that looked as if it had been carved with an ice cream scoop. A stream flowed through the middle, over which wooden bridges arched, and further along there were flowering trees.
She sat on a bench, lit the last cigarette, and inhaled the smoke eagerly. When she was about to kick him out, she choked, and that made her laugh, reminding her of her sister who used to say that from smoking, her little bird smelled like a man.
The girl wandered around the paths again, as if she was looking for something.
She found a night kiddo: shadows gathered in increasingly oppressive processions among the clusters of people bustling to enter or exit, cheerful, even happy, savoring their multicolored lollipops. She didn’t care about anything anymore. It’s striking how one bad man can darken a bright day. Somewhere, a grumble slipped from her — she swore to take revenge.
To get home faster, she had to take the subway.
In the air of the street, one could feel the energy of thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands of people, who had prayed for fertility and love. The station was more crowded than ever, and on some faces, that sparkle was no longer visible, but something else, they were twisted by fatigue. The pusher shoved them inside. A few stations later, it happened. At first, she felt something sharp on her right thigh, she chased it away with the tips of her fingers, but it took refuge between her thighs. She wanted to free herself from the arm that was immobilizing her and scream, but the contemptuous gaze of the man in front of her frightened her. In principle, everything was fine, nothing bad could happen to her, so why should she get worked up? The doors opened and their play was interrupted long enough for her to remember the scoundrel of a cashier who hadn’t let her buy cigarettes and alcohol. At the next station, she turned her head and spotted him. It was really him. She sighed with relief and hugged him.
Soon, the creaking of the rails somehow intertwined with their gasps, and the doors opened and closed two more times. He whispered to her, “I love you,” and slipped a note into her palm.
At the exit, she got dizzy and let herself be carried away by the wave of people, all the way outside.
Here I am, having missed this year’s “Penis Festival”. I’m not too worried though, I heard they’re going to celebrate it again next year.
And the following year and…
She walked confusedly, many were hurrying carelessly, others were still celebrating.
A few months later, she returned to the Plum Garden and caught a message in the tree.
She had written there that he wanted a little girl.
That wish of hers came true, and even more than that because everything worked out for her: the one with the plums, the one with school, and the one with the note.
Even the cashier died.
Well… not really. But rumor has it, he’s still out there, haunting convenience stores, forever denying cigarettes to desperate souls.
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Dear Writers, Dear Friends,
Thank you for your incredible support! Your engagement means the world to me. Please clap, comment, and stay tuned for the next story.
Don’t forget to pre-order Book of Love and Gossip or support our new projects — every bit helps.
With love and gratitude,
Julia
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Julia Kalman 