Sleeping Women - By Chris Dino Belacho

Written By: Chris Dino Belacho

Category: Short Story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, Chris Dino Belacho presents "Sleeping Women," a compelling short story that delves into themes of family, memory, and mystery. As the protagonist navigates a surreal encounter and an unexpected family emergency, the narrative unfolds with a sense of intrigue and emotional depth. This competition serves as a platform to showcase diverse voices and creative expressions from across the globe.

About the Work

"Sleeping Women" by Chris Dino Belacho captures the haunting beauty of unexpected encounters and familial ties through evocative storytelling. The narrative is imbued with tension and introspection, as it explores themes of loss and reconciliation. Belacho's literary style incorporates vivid imagery and a poignant sense of mystery, inviting readers to reflect on the delicate interplay between reality and the surreal.

Sleeping Women

Original Submission by Chris Dino Belacho

Sleeping Women

by Chris Dino Belacho

It was nearly dawn. I was driving through a remote pass on the mountainside when suddenly, I received a phone call from my mother. At first, I thought it was a wrong number, but it really was my mother.

“No time to explain, but it’s really me.

I need you to do something for me.”

There was no way that it was her, unless this was just a dream that I was having.

I hadn’t heard from her for years.

Apparently, there had been a family emergency that I needed to help sort out. My Aunt Cecil had just died. The task was for me to visit my aunt’s place in the nearby province, assess the situation, and head back right away with as much information as I could gather. Honestly, I didn’t really want to go; however, my mother rarely asked me for help, so it was hard to say no. When I arrived, the funeral director was already there.

“We’ve been expecting you,” she said, bowing slightly before walking toward the car.

Although my mother mentioned that someone from the funeral home would come over, I wasn’t expecting it to be a young woman, let alone a stunningly attractive one. She wore a somber black suit and a modest white collared shirt underneath, and her hair was neatly pulled back.

I never thought the face of death could be as beautiful.

“Shall we go inside? I took the liberty of preparing something to eat and some refreshments. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. I am grateful. Thank you for taking an interest.”

Up until that point, I didn’t know the details surrounding my aunt’s death. According to the funeral director, she was alone when it happened, and the coroner ruled out foul play.

“Foul play?”

“I apologize for being too forward about this, but given her situation and her status in our community, we needed to rule out all possible scenarios - her living alone in such a spacious property could make her vulnerable.”

“I understand. Could you tell me the cause of death?”

“Well, according to the official report, to put it simply, your aunt’s heart just stopped. The doctors, despite their efforts, weren’t able to find any blockage in the blood flow or anything that could lead to a logical medical explanation.”

I was unable to respond properly - I wanted to ask if my aunt had an easy passing.

The woman walked me through the details of the service. I signed some documents for the release of the remains and the insurance for the service.

That evening, I slept on the couch and watched the full moon through the window. The sky was more blue than black, contrasting with the dark trees surrounding the house. Outside, the orchestra of crickets played, and the air was thin but cool. I had half a glass of whiskey and turned in between 8 and 9.

Sometime in the middle of the night, the phone rang. It was the funeral director.

She asked if I wanted to see my aunt before they started the cremation. Of course, I had to say yes. Despite being tired from the drive, it was only proper to pay my last respects.

At the funeral home, the man at the front desk cheerily greeted me and walked me to the lower grounds where my aunt was.

“We don’t usually have people over, you see. Not to sound like a prick about it, but people live long in these parts of the world.” I nodded and walked along, keeping up with the attendant’s pace.

The funeral director was waiting for us at the mortuary. This time, she had her hair down. The gloss of her lipstick shone under the single yellow lightbulb hanging in the middle of the room. I secretly wished that someone as lovely would take care of me when my time comes.

“I did mention that we’d commence the procedure tonight. However, I don’t think I asked if you wanted to witness it, so we wanted to ask you.”

“Yes, thank you for the thought. Do I need to do anything? I’m sorry, I’m quite new to this.”

“No worries. Um, do you want to say a few words? That’s usually how it’s done.”

I gave it a try. I thanked my aunt for taking care of me and my siblings when we were kids, when my mother had to go abroad to work, and for being so kind at all times.

“It’s just unfortunate none of the other family members could join us,” the beautiful funeral director said ruefully.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Do you wish to call someone back home to let them know we’re about to begin the service?”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid they’re all indisposed.”

“I see,” she said, then signaled to the male attendant to com- mence the process.

“Can I ask you a small favor?” I asked hesitantly.

She looked at me with approval, the first time I’d seen her smile since that afternoon.

She sidled next to me and held my arm.

“Is this okay?” I asked. She nodded.

I told her I’d stick around for a few more days just to see things through.

While my aunt’s body was inserted into the chamber, I prayed for her and my mother’s souls.

And after that, I stopped receiving calls from my dead mother.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a celebration of literary talent worldwide. It provides a platform for writers to share their unique voices and creativity, fostering a community of diverse narratives and artistic expression. Participants engage in a vibrant showcase of poetry and prose, contributing to a rich tapestry of global storytelling.

We extend our heartfelt gratitude to Chris Dino Belacho for sharing "Sleeping Women" with us. This captivating short story, featured in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, invites readers into a world of mystery and emotional resonance. We appreciate Chris's contribution to this year's event and look forward to witnessing more of their creative journey.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.