Rainbows and Clouds: A short story collection
A short story collection about the happy, funny, and ugly sides of life.
Some of my short stories are humorous about every day life.
Other stories are about friends and my experiences form long years working in the medical field.
These stories are about happiness, sadness, vulnerability, weakness, suffering, and courage.
Some of my short stories are humorous about every day life.
Other stories are about friends and my experiences form long years working in the medical field.
These stories are about happiness, sadness, vulnerability, weakness, suffering, and courage.
Available in eBook, audiobook, and print
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Buy the audiobook   Listen to the audio sample |
Second edition
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A collection of humorous anecdotes, heartwarming stories, and slice-of-life tales that evoke a wide range of emotions.
Short stories about life’s humorous, happy, and dark moments. Some of the stories are from my years in nursing, Steve's clumsiness and my cooking disasters might make you spit out your coffee laughing. The stories of my pets will put a warm smile on your face, and the stories about life's darker moments might make you wipe a tear or two. Rainbows and dark clouds are part of life, Without darkness there can be no light. Without moments that make us cry, We can’t enjoy moments that make us smile. Without moments that make us laugh, We can’t get through moments that make us sad. ~Erika M Szabo Editorial review: "A collection of fun anecdotes, heartwarming stories, and slice-of-life tales that evoke a wide range of emotions. It's impossible to choose a favorite story because I loved them all, particularly the tales that explored the challenges of having a pet. There are several stories within this collection that explore the best - and the worst - of humanity. We are reminded that not everything, or everyone, is what they appear to be and that the best things in life are often surprises. I would absolutely recommend this book to everyone! It truly is something special." ~Tricia Drammeh |
Teasers
Green Light
My neighbor, Bob, moved to a nursing home shortly after he lost his beloved wife. At 92, paralyzed from the waist down, he was unable to live alone.
I always enjoyed Bob’s company, so I visited him often. On one occasion when I was walking to his room, I saw an old woman sitting in the chair by the wall across from Bob’s room.
She looked up at me and said with a serious look on her face, “Your pocket is blinking.”
Her stoic statement surprised me and then I thought, the poor dear probably has dementia. I smiled at her; she smiled back, and then she looked at the beautiful orange cat curled up on her lap, purring. The lady gently stroked the back of the cat and started humming.
I turned toward Bob’s room with a heavy heart, thinking, it’s not fair. Life plays a cruel joke on us by the time we get old. When we should be enjoying the golden years, if we’re lucky to live that long to get there, most likely we’ll lose most of our abilities to enjoy it with.
I forced a cheerful smile on my face and knocked on Bob’s door.
“Come on in!” I heard Bob’s raspy voice.
I opened the door, walked in and took my sweater off. Bob invited me to sit in his pink, velvet-covered armchair that was his wife’s favorite. I poured the cappuccino into delicate porcelain cups from my thermos and put the brownies I had baked for him onto cookie plates.
We talked for a while about books he read recently and music we both enjoyed. At 92 he remembered the past more vividly than what he had for breakfast that day, so as usual, he entertained me with stories of his childhood and his memorable days as a college professor.
After an hour or so I noticed that Bob was getting tired, so I collected the empty cups and plates and washed them. As I was drying the cups and put them back in his china cabinet, Bob said, “Something is blinking in your pocket.”
I looked over to the chair where I had put my sweater, and I saw the rhythmically pulsating green light of my cell phone. It shone through the thin material of my sweater.
I said, feeling ashamed, “Bob, that lady across the hall told me but I didn’t pay attention. I’m so stupid. I assumed she had dementia just because I didn’t realize what she was talking about.”
“Margaret? Oh, no,” Bob laughed. “Her mind is as sharp as a well-made Katana.”
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I should have known better.”
“Don’t sweat it, kiddo,” Bob replied. “See you next week? Oh, could you bake some of your famous cookies, the ones you make with apricot jam and meringue on top?”
“You bet! I’ll see you next Saturday.”
He flashed a tired smile at me and pressed the call button for the nurse’s aide to help him to bed for his nap.
On my way out, I approached Margaret and said to her, “You were right! I just realized what you said, and my pocket really was blinking.”
“Took you long enough,” she laughed and winked at me playfully.
Little Johnny
As a young nurse in Hungary, I worked in the pediatric unit for a short while. Johnny was a nine-year-old cute as a button little boy who had leukemia. The medications and treatments wiped him out physically and emotionally, but he still had a sweet smile for everyone who entered his room.
Restrained sobs choked me every time I saw his pale, angelic little face and heard him say, “Hello, beautiful. Give me that shot quickly and tell me a story.” (His father was a flirt and he imitated him by calling the nurses beautiful or gorgeous.)
Our storytelling sessions started when he had a very bad day after chemo, and the medications didn’t work to suppress his nausea and headache. All I could do was sit by his bed, hold his hand and wait for the stronger medication to kick in. To break the silence and get his attention away from heaving and pain, I started reciting a fairy tale. “Once upon a time...”
As I continued the story, his breathing slowed, and he hung onto every word, seemingly forgetting his pain and misery for a few minutes.
The story with medicine became our routine. One morning, because I didn’t remember any more fairy tales that I had read as a child, I started telling him my childhood memories.
One of my fondest memories was how my best friend and I saved four drowning kittens when a cruel neighbor threw them into the river.
Johnny grew weaker and weaker and could listen to the story only a few minutes at a time, but he remembered the next day where we left off. When we got to the part where my mom prepared a wicker basket for the kittens, Johnny’s eyes lit up and said, “A kosarnyi kiscica,” which means: “A basketful of kittens.”
When I wrote this story into a children’s book last year, in memory of little Johnny, I gave the book the title that he came up with: “A Basketful of Kittens.”
I never had a chance to tell him the end of the story. The next day, there were only a few minutes left to tell him how Daniel and I dealt with the neighborhood bullies, but when I entered little Johnny’s room that morning, his bed was empty.
My neighbor, Bob, moved to a nursing home shortly after he lost his beloved wife. At 92, paralyzed from the waist down, he was unable to live alone.
I always enjoyed Bob’s company, so I visited him often. On one occasion when I was walking to his room, I saw an old woman sitting in the chair by the wall across from Bob’s room.
She looked up at me and said with a serious look on her face, “Your pocket is blinking.”
Her stoic statement surprised me and then I thought, the poor dear probably has dementia. I smiled at her; she smiled back, and then she looked at the beautiful orange cat curled up on her lap, purring. The lady gently stroked the back of the cat and started humming.
I turned toward Bob’s room with a heavy heart, thinking, it’s not fair. Life plays a cruel joke on us by the time we get old. When we should be enjoying the golden years, if we’re lucky to live that long to get there, most likely we’ll lose most of our abilities to enjoy it with.
I forced a cheerful smile on my face and knocked on Bob’s door.
“Come on in!” I heard Bob’s raspy voice.
I opened the door, walked in and took my sweater off. Bob invited me to sit in his pink, velvet-covered armchair that was his wife’s favorite. I poured the cappuccino into delicate porcelain cups from my thermos and put the brownies I had baked for him onto cookie plates.
We talked for a while about books he read recently and music we both enjoyed. At 92 he remembered the past more vividly than what he had for breakfast that day, so as usual, he entertained me with stories of his childhood and his memorable days as a college professor.
After an hour or so I noticed that Bob was getting tired, so I collected the empty cups and plates and washed them. As I was drying the cups and put them back in his china cabinet, Bob said, “Something is blinking in your pocket.”
I looked over to the chair where I had put my sweater, and I saw the rhythmically pulsating green light of my cell phone. It shone through the thin material of my sweater.
I said, feeling ashamed, “Bob, that lady across the hall told me but I didn’t pay attention. I’m so stupid. I assumed she had dementia just because I didn’t realize what she was talking about.”
“Margaret? Oh, no,” Bob laughed. “Her mind is as sharp as a well-made Katana.”
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I should have known better.”
“Don’t sweat it, kiddo,” Bob replied. “See you next week? Oh, could you bake some of your famous cookies, the ones you make with apricot jam and meringue on top?”
“You bet! I’ll see you next Saturday.”
He flashed a tired smile at me and pressed the call button for the nurse’s aide to help him to bed for his nap.
On my way out, I approached Margaret and said to her, “You were right! I just realized what you said, and my pocket really was blinking.”
“Took you long enough,” she laughed and winked at me playfully.
Little Johnny
As a young nurse in Hungary, I worked in the pediatric unit for a short while. Johnny was a nine-year-old cute as a button little boy who had leukemia. The medications and treatments wiped him out physically and emotionally, but he still had a sweet smile for everyone who entered his room.
Restrained sobs choked me every time I saw his pale, angelic little face and heard him say, “Hello, beautiful. Give me that shot quickly and tell me a story.” (His father was a flirt and he imitated him by calling the nurses beautiful or gorgeous.)
Our storytelling sessions started when he had a very bad day after chemo, and the medications didn’t work to suppress his nausea and headache. All I could do was sit by his bed, hold his hand and wait for the stronger medication to kick in. To break the silence and get his attention away from heaving and pain, I started reciting a fairy tale. “Once upon a time...”
As I continued the story, his breathing slowed, and he hung onto every word, seemingly forgetting his pain and misery for a few minutes.
The story with medicine became our routine. One morning, because I didn’t remember any more fairy tales that I had read as a child, I started telling him my childhood memories.
One of my fondest memories was how my best friend and I saved four drowning kittens when a cruel neighbor threw them into the river.
Johnny grew weaker and weaker and could listen to the story only a few minutes at a time, but he remembered the next day where we left off. When we got to the part where my mom prepared a wicker basket for the kittens, Johnny’s eyes lit up and said, “A kosarnyi kiscica,” which means: “A basketful of kittens.”
When I wrote this story into a children’s book last year, in memory of little Johnny, I gave the book the title that he came up with: “A Basketful of Kittens.”
I never had a chance to tell him the end of the story. The next day, there were only a few minutes left to tell him how Daniel and I dealt with the neighborhood bullies, but when I entered little Johnny’s room that morning, his bed was empty.
Thank you for reviewing this book!
Overall
5 out of 5 stars
Performance
4 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
Pattwee
10-30-20
short stories
Lovely collection of short stories, kept me entertained.
Narration was good. Looking forward to listening to more stories by Erika Szabo
Overall
5 out of 5 stars
Performance
4 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
Keskiviikko73
04-26-19
Great collection of stories.
This is a great collection of stories, those that tell our walk of lives. Indeed rainbows like every precious and shiny happy moment in our lives, and shiny happy moment in our lives, and clouds which make us realize how beautiful life is. Great book, highly recommended!
Overall
5 out of 5 stars
Performance
5 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
B.Shoe
01-24-21
Wonderful!
This has stories that will make you laugh and cry. It is stories from the author’s life as a nurse. A great listen.
Overall
4 out of 5 stars
Performance
3 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
seelk
06-19-19
Rainbows and Clouds
I loved the little stories, some were funny, some interesting, some thought-provoking. Thank you for sharing glimpses from your life with us Ms. Szabo. Loved the story of Lucky especially,
Mr. Resnick has a good voice, easy to listen to. The sound effects were distracting at the beginning, but after a while got used to them.
Overall
5 out of 5 stars
Performance
4 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
R. Tran
05-04-19
Fun and uplifting
Rainbows and clouds was full of laughs and intriguing stories. It brightened my day every time I turned it on. The narrator was pleasant to listen to and gave the story life. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who wants something uplifting to listen to.
5 out of 5 stars
Performance
4 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
Pattwee
10-30-20
short stories
Lovely collection of short stories, kept me entertained.
Narration was good. Looking forward to listening to more stories by Erika Szabo
Overall
5 out of 5 stars
Performance
4 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
Keskiviikko73
04-26-19
Great collection of stories.
This is a great collection of stories, those that tell our walk of lives. Indeed rainbows like every precious and shiny happy moment in our lives, and shiny happy moment in our lives, and clouds which make us realize how beautiful life is. Great book, highly recommended!
Overall
5 out of 5 stars
Performance
5 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
B.Shoe
01-24-21
Wonderful!
This has stories that will make you laugh and cry. It is stories from the author’s life as a nurse. A great listen.
Overall
4 out of 5 stars
Performance
3 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
seelk
06-19-19
Rainbows and Clouds
I loved the little stories, some were funny, some interesting, some thought-provoking. Thank you for sharing glimpses from your life with us Ms. Szabo. Loved the story of Lucky especially,
Mr. Resnick has a good voice, easy to listen to. The sound effects were distracting at the beginning, but after a while got used to them.
Overall
5 out of 5 stars
Performance
4 out of 5 stars
Story
5 out of 5 stars
R. Tran
05-04-19
Fun and uplifting
Rainbows and clouds was full of laughs and intriguing stories. It brightened my day every time I turned it on. The narrator was pleasant to listen to and gave the story life. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who wants something uplifting to listen to.