I am sorry for being so late with my Friday post. I was asked to step in at the last moment as there was a slot free for 100 words stories feature! I came up with this story at the last minute, please do share your feedback.
100 Words Story-
I gathered up all my courage that day and called her to the park near her house. My friend had said that I would never be able to tell her that I liked her. Incited, I bet him a cola that I would. I was waiting for her in the park and then, it rained. Drenched, I was worried she would never show up. Just then, I saw her in her polka-dotted dress carrying an umbrella. She looked at a girl passing by, and they exchanged a shy smile. Before I could say anything she said, “I am in love!”
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It was a beautiful cloudy, moon night, I was again waiting for him, standing on the dimly lit balcony. There I see a sweet chakor hanging in the air, searching for a place to sit, so that she can enchant her beloved. A sight it was, one waiting lover, watching another, waiting one. And then it rained heavily, soaking me in its essence of love, taking away my pain of loneliness. I felt big warm hands trying to wrap me up in an embrace, gently kissing my knuckles, he muttered “Lover’s do get separated, to be reunited in the end”.
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This Friday’s 100 Word Story Prompt is: a phrase! Continue reading
“Oh! Not again!’, Sasha groaned .
The GPS had led her to the same STOP sign for the third time. For the past one hour Sasha had been driving in the same area struggling to locate the campground.
Luckily a park ranger noticed her and helped her.
“Mam, drive on this road for a quarter mile and the campground will be on the left. I hope you enjoyed the scenic drive.”
That’s when Sasha realized that she had ignored the beautiful nature around her in her search for the destination! Indeed, she had missed the forest for the trees.
In keeping with the mood of the ever changing features of our forum (we are yet to decide the new feature for Monday, I know!), I thought why not try a different prompt than always. With the recent photo feature Shutterbug Showcase picking up interest and becoming such a success, why not spice things up a bit for this feature too. What do you say?
So I decided to go with a photo prompt for the 100 Words Story this time. Here’s the beautiful picture that Rashmi Menon very kindly shared with us to use for this week. Continue reading
They had finally came on a long “late night” drive. Just like the old times when they used to sneak out of their houses for trips like these. The car’s speed increased in conjunction with their happiness meter. Before long, all they concentrated on was each other, rather than the roads ahead.
Their laughter was pierced by the deafening silence brought on by the collision with the trailer. She was thrown out of car, from where she saw, his mangled remains beneath the tires of the vehicle.
The screeching brakes jolted her out of the deja vu she just had.
Time stood still in this very moment. I am in Central Park jogging, I begin to slow down and eventually stop. I have been in this moment before. My eyes dart left and they dart right. Who was I with? Why was I here? I look again to my left and I see the couple arguing, the woman storms off and the middle aged man stares at her and then put his head down. To the right of me, I see an elderly couple holding hands and kissing gently. I may never recall how or why, but I definitely was here…
Clad in her favourite yellow sari, she went in to the kitchen to make tea for her in-laws. She smiled, remembering how in the morning Rehan had pulled her sari and had not let her go.
The priests had declared her unlucky for him . She was ‘Manglik’*, they said. Despite his family’s objections they got married, a month ago. His parents though hesitant at first had eventually accepted her to their family.
Everything was perfect.Or so it seemed. Until she lit the burner.
Her mother-in-law continued reading her book and turned a deaf ear to the screams that engulfed the kitchen along with the flames.
*Manglik-In India, being Manglik has been considered as some kind of curse, especially for brides.
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“I don’t care about what you think or want to do, all I know is get rid of this mess you have brought upon us!”, glowered Saira. She had made it clear, Zishan was unwelcome in her house.
Samarth couldn’t tell her any detail about all this and in the absence of any explanation in last two months, she had put the pieces together herself, accusing him of bringing home his grave mistake.
How was Samarth to tell her, their source of strife was the illegitimate son of the only woman in their lives – Saira’s precious but dead daughter – Neena.
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