Origami-Heart. PART 1: ‘The Good’

The story is inspired by the poem of  The Lonely Author Blog

The story (it will be 3000-3,500 words) composed of 3 parts:

The Good
The Bad
The Horrible

Remark: the name of the boy is the word ‘ensam‘ – and it means ‘alone’ (in Swedish) 


‘…where would we keep the Love if we had no hearts, what would we say about our feelings, hurts, desires, dreams? Where would our Light, Kindness and Compassion reside? And what would be a human without the heart? My dad taught me that the most precious thing in the world is Origami – the heart of a pure kind. The one that folds in the way that the light stays forever inside. It preserves. It shines through the pain, the loss, the anger.
Everything you see around is the delusion. Only the hearts are Peace. Only the hearts are Freedom. To know yourself is to know your own heart, inseparable part of the timeless and formless Origami.’ – the boy met the dozen of quiet eyes of the class, put down the paper on the table and turned his face to the teacher.

The sun enjoyed a quiet break while playing with blonde hair of the girl, sitting near the window. The teacher felt embarrassed of too long pause. ‘Go back to your place,’ – waved his hand. And then, after one more lifeless minute, the hoarse voice finally cut through the silence of the classroom:

– It was a very fresh and interesting writing. Did your father help you?

– No. It is my own thoughts, – the child was already sitting, in the meditative state, like a marble pillar.

The boy’s name is Ensam and he is the member of ‘Origami-Hearts’: religious group, located outside of the Cape May, a quaint Victorian village nestled in the southern tip of New Jersey. Origami-members were always quiet, kind, polite folks, but everybody in the Cape May have been scared of them to death.


– Do you believe in what you have told us today? – the blond girl, Rida, the one who was sitting near the window, touched Ensam’s shoulder, trying to stop him. She was almost out of the breath.
– Yes, I do. That’s the only life I know, – the homeliness of his words were terrifying, but Rida has found no way to express her astonishment, so she just followed him.

The natural beauty of the southernmost beach in the state has been a draw for centuries. You can swim, jogg, walk, search for the polished quartz that washes up on shore. Rida have done it many times in her 14 years. Cape May was the most happy and in the same time the most boring place she knew. Still, each time, she enjoyed the view of the smiling faces and the laughing sound around.

– Do you know that people are scared of the ‘origamers’? – she asked Ensam’s neck. He did not turn to face her.
– I know. I see how they look at me. At the school, at the stores, other kids, you.
– I didn’t realize.
– It’s okay.

For a moment, the gloom of the pain arrived at her feet, and then rashly transformed into the memory, the wound, the absence of the light.

– They are scared that ‘origami-demons’ will take their hearts. My dad told me that people who follow your group are disappearing, – the last word has trapped inside of her, but she shut her eyes and added: – Sometimes…

Ensam stopped, turned his face to the girl and said:

– We aren’t the group.
– What?
– I said we aren’t the group and your dad is wrong! Wrong!

Ensam touched his eyes, took a step backward. Rida tried to help him to balance, but then noticed that his eyes are bleeding.
Wet and bright liquid streamed down, into the sandy road. He struggled to stop it, but his hands were shaking. And that scared her even more. The bloody wet mess on the face of ‘Origami’.

– Do not follow me! – he shouted, and ran to the bridge. As fast as he can. Past the beautiful beach and the smiling happy faces.


The kitchen was warm and sunny. Rida looked out the window: ‘Oh. Really? Again?’. There was Nothing. Nothing is the part of the small cute towns. ‘Nothing’ of the new sounds. ‘Nothing’ of the new choices. All ‘nothings’ from all over the world floated in the air of the Cape May that morning.

Rida’s dad, David, stood near the table, far from the window, preparing one of the lunch-boxes.

– What did she say when you last time met her in New Jersey? 

The man has frozen, his hands stopped all the movements for a couple of seconds and then continued the regular chopping. Seems even the ray of the sun have been surprised by the strength in Rida’s voice. It jumped up and started to play freaky games on the walls of the kitchen.

– She said you are in her heart forever, – her dad answered. Rida noticed that his face wasn’t angry, but desperate.

– Does it mean she will get back to us? – asked she softly, with a sad smile.

– Yes.
– Soon?

– Soon.

One part of of Rida has been waiting that dads ‘Soon’ will arrive today. Or at least tomorrow. But David’s version of ‘Soon’ is an illusion. Illusion of ‘I’m here for you’, of the warm smile, embrace, a promise and Love.
Another part of Rida knew her mother will never get back. Nobody ever did. Because the moment you become ‘Origami’ – your heart belongs to them. They own it. Forever. 

Next post, Monday – photography from my spanish vacation  


Victoria Ray NB View All →

Living in Sweden. Awesome. Happy. Writing. Ayurvedic food. Healthy lifestyle. Dogs. Literature. Drawing. Meditation/Yoga.

41 Comments Leave a comment

  1. Lovely post.beautifully written and…by the way if u need tips on origami and kirigami I have a little expert in the house.😉

    • Thank u ☀️😁 u r way too kind 💜👋 it will be posted next week, Thursday I think. Or maybe Wednesday. I can write only 1 part a week, bcz I have to write other posts too & live 😅😂 and my mum is still here, until 14, so it will be a very restricted use of wi-fi/laptop 😱
      I have to fight for using computer 😂

  2. I’ve just popped back to read this for a second time – and maybe it’s my state of mind – this time around it’s got a hold of me in some way – there is something about the way you write – like no one else I’ve read – yes you know how to get into someone’s head!

  3. I spent the late autumn of 1971 at the USCG Tracen at the end of the Cape. I remember brutal weather there doing my “slow walk” watches in the middle of the night (in early December!) on that flatland between Delaware Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. I had enlisted because I did not want to end up a statitistical draft number in Vietnam. But the Coast Guard was in in Vietnam. I had also enlisted because I was trying to forget a bitter break from my first love. I did not know the beauty of the southernmost beach in New Jersey at that time, and the thing you call Origami was not very perceptible. I suppose my name could have been Ensam. cm

    • Wow cool 🙂 unfortunately I’ve picked the place bcz of the name only 🙂 I never been there but I’ve checked some pictures online, looks interesting. Gosh, I have to tell u in 79 I didn’t know anything about origami as well 😂 and Hey, Ensam the Good 😉✌️

      • I don’t know about now, but it is my understanding that Cape May is not unlike the rest of the Jersey Shore during the summer (see TV show), except it has something of a trendiness bordering on snobbery. But then I was not there at that time. In winter it was a bonafide ghost town. Oh and best of success for your novel. Mine is a lifetime labor—or a future miscarriage. cm

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