Flash Fiction: Do you remember?

‘Do you remember? How I cried incessantly to be allowed to take a Jump into the flowing water thinking it was only a “really large swimming pool”‘, questioned Lucille.

And… And how the travel guide scared the daylights out of us with the story of the ghost-bride who roams at night with a ring in her hand, looking for her drowned groom to make her a wife. Ohhh, how scared I was, praying she wouldn’t appear while we were on the bridge. And you, you calmed me and scolded the travel’s guide for terrifying me.

Oh.. Oh, and granny, do you remember the way I danced afterwards to the sound of the waterfall splashing and you clapped and cheered and…

“Granny?” Said Lucille self consciously, realizing the only sound coming from the room was her voice. She looked at her grandmother to find her eyes shut, her face like that of a peaceful sleeping wrinkled baby. Lucille prayed to God at the moment, that her granny was only sleeping and not…

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Word count: 171 This post is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge, where each week we get a photo prompt and wrote a 150-175 words story on the given picture. Thank you very much Etol Bagam for this week’s beautiful picture.

Writer’s quote: Rick Mofina

I took a few week from participating in Writer’s quote wednesday challenge, but I am glad to be back. My inspiration for this week is from a book I just got done reading by Rick Mofina- If Angels fall. I must say, for a first novel, he did a bang-up job. I felt like I was in the interrogation room with the FBIs and detectives, he took me on one heck of an amazing investigative journey.

The reason I chose this quote is- should we have to wait for life to throw it’s many curveballs at us before we “prioritize”. It’s true, everything becomes clear when we are at the threshold of losing everything; here’s the thing, why should we wait to be at the cliff end when we can avoid it. We all have ways of interpreting quotes and sayings and I daresay we are all right. But for me, quotes like this are kind of a “fore-warning” to take charge of things, before they worsen; to prioritize before I find my feet dangling.

For more about the sizzling crime author, Rick Mofina, click HERE. 

Mask over tears

The moist in her eyes,
Told a different story,
The grin on her lips-
A perfect disguise.
The sass in her walk,
As she strode the hallways;
A perfect cover-
She hid all her life.

Now where was the girl,
Who wept till morning;
Afraid of the silence,
That comes on with dusk.
When dawn goes to day,
So does her real self-
A blinding spotlight
The pretense begins.

A mask over tears-
appealing to the universe;
At the cost of herself-
And on the story goes.
Yet a loophole it has,
If you were to look deeper;
A broken girl you’ll find-
A bird awaiting to fly.
If only we did look deeper-
Past the facade, past the smile.

The above image courtesy of The dynamic turnaround 

Flash Fiction: Kiara

The water moves with a speed akin to that of dogs chasing after squirrels, it rushes towards the rocks. Rises with vehement force into ginormous waves and then, collapses all at once with a turbulent sound- that’s on a cold stormy day.
During the Summer, the rays of the sun reflects on the cerulean sea with its low tides, swaying in a slow rhythmic fashion.

The isolated fortress located at the center of Norman’s island (a place rarely visited) was Kiara’s home for six years and 277 days now. Silence and loneliness were the backbone towards her friendship with the sea- she had become at master at the language of water.

She was the sole survivor of a ship wreck and had sought refuge in the fortress, that was the last time her pale feet graced the grassy outside of the building’s four walls. But yet, she hoped, someday, HE would set her free. The price of being rescued couldn’t be that expensive, could it?

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word count: 165. This story is In response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. We get a photo every week and then wrote a 150-175 word story on it. To read more or even participate, clink on the highlighted link above.  Thank you TJ Paris for such an astounding picture.

You broke me not-

You broke me not,
I broke my heart;
In loving you,
I fell apart;
I chose to love,
It wasn’t force;
A sane decision,
Of insane love.

You loved me not,
I loved you so;
A choice I made,
Conscientiously;
You owe me not,
I owe my soul;
For taking the road-
Mostly followed.

You’ll save me not,
I’ll make my own
Decisions as-
I’ve always done.
I chose to go,
You begged me not;
A sane decision-
Of a broken heart.

You broke me not,
I broke my heart;
Your words, you lied
But I, obliged.
I’ll take my blame,
And pave new path;
Mend back the pieces-
And bloom a new flower.

Flash Fiction: Who dunnit?

A loud explosion rocked the Gotham’s town hall, it was a time of great upheal. The skimpy dressed, high heeled ladies found themselves kicking the heels and running helter skelter within moments. Married men forgot their wives, Sirs forgot their mistresses, ladies forgot their friends, only mothers remembered for a moment to find their kids whereabout.

It all started with the ice-duck like statue. One minute, men were sipping wine and gazing at the intricate and beautifully finished gallant design of an ice duck, the next, a rumble originating from the ice-duck’s pit and crumbling of blocks sent them running.

For months after the explosion, the town hall was rarely visited by sane individuals and the question of “who dunnit” died down like the explosion.

Oldman Grimes couldn’t help but roar out in a manner fit to wake the dead whenever he thought of the ice-duck job. “Ahh, it was so easy”, he boasted wiping a tear from his eyes. Of all the tricks he’s played on an ex, that was his favorite.

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Word count: 173 This post is in response to the Flash fiction for Aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. I apologize for the late response and my absence from the blogosphere. Travelled to a place with very poor network, will be leaving by Friday. I can’t wait to read all if your wonderful posts when I get back. 🙂

Unwanted

“They were wrong”, didi thought.
“Hey, heyy”, she spun around to a circle of kids giggling, and jumping all about.
“Alright, just one picture and that’s it” she declared jokingly.

It was hemani, Anshal and Preeti’s birthdays. They wanted an artistic themed party, she couldn’t say no. Didi took the picture and let the kids be, watching them from a safe distance. Her heart swelled up in Joy knowing and realizing she had made the right decision. These were the kids who were “unwanted”. Rejected by their parents, left to the mercy of Mother Earth.

When she started the foundation, people thought she couldn’t do it. Some said it to her face. If even the parents don’t want the kids, why should she bother. But she did bother about them. Seeing the smiles on their faces, the purity in their laughter, Didi knew she had made the right decision. There was no greater blessing than watching a toddler grow up and rise in front your eyes.

She fought to blink back tears. Ah, her kids. Her kids who might never know their real birthdays or who their real parents are for that matter. She sighed as she thought about her own doting parent.

“We’ll make it”, Didi reassured herself as she walked to get some more coloring. “We’ll make it”.

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This story is in response to a photo prompt challenge hosted by The rattling bones. And ooh, what a beautiful picture given by him (I mean the photo above) ;).

She wrote, not cry-

From words to phrases,
She tried her might;
To put those pure thoughts,
In lines and rhymes;
Alas, the ink well
Had dried that night;
The muse of poetry-
Departed her.

She sought refuge,
In the dark of night;
With the moon at bay,
And the stars not alight;
When the world consumed her,
She wrote not cry;
When the words ain’t coming,
She froze inside.

The moon didn’t shine that
Night when she sat;
And the sounds accompanying
Dusk didn’t arrive;
In the blanketed night,
Face thrust in hands,
For the first time in ages,
She didn’t write but cry.

She wrote how she felt,
But forgot how to feel;
In paragraphs and deadlines,
She ignored within;
The tears were a welcome,
Relief to her skin;
For in becoming in a writer,
She’d forgot her human being.

Flash Fiction: “I do!”

 

            “Where on earth is Nigel”
Frustrated, Maura sought refuge under the red umbrellas present at Lancaster lake. It wasn’t as much that the weather was hot but rather the sun rays melting her pancaked face which bothered her. She looked at her watch, 3:35pm, “Nigel better have a good reason for keeping me waiting”.

Just then, Maura noticed a ripple at the center of the waterbody. Her eyes widened as she realized splashes of water were erupting from the ripple. She took a few steps towards it when a floating box caught her eye.

At the top of the box was a banner on which was boldly written:
                “I know you don’t like cheesy,
                 I’ll try to make this cool;
                 Sorry for keeping you waiting-
                 Maura please please say I do”

It was the worst poem Maura had ever read but even that didn’t stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. She screamed at the top of her lungs to Nigel who appeared at the other side of the lake,
                     “I thought you’ll never ask!”

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This post is In submission to the flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. Word count: 175 words. We are provided with a photo every week on which a story of 150 (give or take 25 words) is required. If you’d like to participate or read awesome flash fiction stories, just click on the link above. 🙂