short story

Flash Fiction: Presence

I had never been a very good father. My now six year old kid had never had much attachment towards me. He wouldn’t listen to what I said. My wife, my love, she was always the better parent, and my kid loved her a lot more than me. But all this did not remain the same. It all changed , after my love passed away a week ago.

I had been devastated. And no words I know can describe what my son must have been going through. He had taken it very hard. He wouldn’t speak to me nor cry. And realizing the gravity of the situation, I had tried getting him to open up to me. But , he just wouldn’t. Strangely though, he had started listening to what I told him, which he previously never did. I can swear he had started looking at me different too.

I had taken leave from office. I felt that I could not compete with life anymore. I would stay home drinking and whiling away time, while my son was at school. Upon his return, I would cook for him a hot meal and try to get him to talk to me. But every night it was the same. He would sit at the table and eat his meals silently. He would glance at me a few times through the course of the meal, but never utter anything. This went on till yesterday night.

Yesterday evening he came home from school a bit more tired than usual. He went straight to his room. At around nine ,  he came down to the dining room. I had prepared  cheesy pasta-his favourite dish.  He started eating silently like he did every night. He glanced at me , looking like he wanted to say something. I decided to grab the moment-

‘What is it son? Is the pasta good? ‘

He kept his spoon down.

‘Yes papa it is nice. But I wanted to have another bowl.’

I was glad we were making some conversation.

‘Sure son. Eat as much as you want.’

He nodded. And started to fill another bowl. About halfway, he glanced at me and suddenly stopped.

‘What happened son? Go ahead take it. ‘

He shook his head.

‘No . Mom always screamed at me when I ate more than one. ‘

I thought I should be frank with the kid.

‘Son, your mom is not here anymore. So it’s okay if you wanna have more.’

He glanced at me again.

‘No. Mom is saying no.’

I was a few pints down. But I could swear he was looking behind me.

Word Count: 432

Prompt:

FOWC with Fandango “Compete”

 

(Originally posted on 3rd October, 2014.)

 

Would love to hear your thoughts on it! 🙂

Flash Fiction: Unimpressed

It is really irritating when you have a well-traveled, know-it-all husband. He fails to find anything impressive.
“Look darling, a rainbow!”
“Calm down woman. It is not like the first rainbow we have seen, you know.” Sometimes, it makes me feel guilty about being so easily impressed.

Yesterday I finally got a one up on him.
“Come here at the window. Look at the bird out there.”
“You want me to leave the comfort of my couch and walk there just to see some bird?”
“But it is a large white bird and it is coming closer..”
“Nothing special about a huge white bird. I have seen the Andean Condor up close.”
*rumble* *rumble*
“Get away from the window. It’s an earthquake!”
“No darling, it is the white bird.”
My husband got up from the couch and rushed to the window.

The gigantic bird stomping around in the city, left his mouth hanging open for the first very time.

Not unimpressed anymore.

Word Count: 157

Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner Week 21

Flash Fiction: Tragedy

Paul checked his location. He had almost reached the target.

Even as a kid, Paul knew his calling lay in the skies. He had aced pilot training just before the world plunged into chaos. Paul never wanted to shoot anyone out of the skies. However, when the fight came to his country’s border he was shoehorned into the air force.

Paul checked his radar, took a deep breath and pushed the button-of-doom. His actions would be called heroic by his countrymen. However, Paul knew what it really was.

A tragedy.

Word Count: 96

Written for Masters of Writing Flash Fiction Challenge, week 5

Do let me know your views on the story

And I do apologize for the infrequent posts and responses. I am traveling but will be back soon..full swing!!☺️

Flash Fiction: The Line

Gupta was thoroughly bored now. He had been waiting in queue for a long time and the line had only increased rapidly.

Gupta looked around. Most of the people in the line were teens and young adults. Making conversation seemed difficult. The teenage girl standing behind Gupta sensed his uneasiness and broke the ice.

“The line is too slow. However, it is surprising to see you in this line.”

“Isn’t this the entry line for people who died while clicking photographs?”

“Not exactly! This line is for selfie deaths. The regular camera photo line is over there!”

Gupta sighed.

 

Word Count: 99

This story was written in response to Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge “Line”

 

Would love to hear your thoughts and feedback on my stories! 🙂

Happy Reading!

 

Image Credit: https://www.stephaniesyho.com/the-early-years?

Six-Word Story Challenge – “Inspiration”

 

‘Dark Alley, Parents Shot: His Inspiration’

 

This story was in response to J.I. Rogers’ Six-Word Story Challenge – “Inspiration”

 

If you liked this story do give Darkness and Colour a read! 🙂

 

This one may have been a bit cryptic, Apologies!!

 

I would love to hear your thoughts on my work! Thanks!

Cur

“That rabid cur attacked me!”

The old man explained to the crowd that had gathered, brandishing his tattered clothes. His sullen face, was covered in sweat. The throng of people had encircled the old man, observing the consequences of his actions. A black mongrel lay motionless not two feet away from the old man. The body of the canine lay littered with cuts and bruises. The gut-wrenching howling of the dog had gathered the crowd to the location. Those who had arrived early had seen the creature breathing its last. The crowd had looked at the old man with accusing eyes. He wiped the sweat off his face and dropped the crowbar he was holding. Dashes of red were visible on the crowbar where it lay at the old man’s feet. He dusted his tattered clothes and rubbed his hands together. He addressed the staring crowd.

“The dog attacked me for no reason. I did what I had to do.”

The old man did not offer any more explanation and pushed his way through the crowd. Everyone continued staring at him until he had disappeared from view. No one uttered a word. The dog’s state left everyone aghast.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“That rabid cur attacked me!”

The young woman explained to the police officer sitting behind the desk, her face convoluted in disgust. The police officer continued taking notes. He was dutifully lodging her complaint. She had told her story.

“I was returning home, late night yesterday. My friends dropped me on the main road. It was only a couple of streets away from my house. As I was walking home, I saw an old man approaching me. He came right at me and grabbed on to me. He was trying to have his way with me. I was in no state to offer much resistance. He would have raped me right there, had it not been for a dog. From out of nowhere, this black mongrel had attacked the old man. He let me go and ran off in the opposite direction. The dog chased him and I managed to get home. Officer, you need to arrest this man.”

The police officer looked up at the young woman.

“And we will madam, we assure you.”

 

Image Credit: http://mjex.co/black-dog-art/black-dog-art-black-dog-by-black-and-white-dog-artwork/

Written for today’s Daily Prompt: Cur

Do let me know your thoughts on this story in the comments. 🙂

If you liked this story, you may want to check out:

Jingle

Sell

FFFAW: The Workers

Image Courtesy: Ellespeth

 

He watched them from the top of the hill. The two straw-people were working hard, doing their assigned chores. He watched them every day – toiling away in the sweltering heat. He often overheard their laments: how their masters were heartless and how they were being exploited. They shared their joys and sorrows with each other. He could see how when one of them got tired, the other one would lend aid.  The rigours of their lives were extreme.

Looking at them, he felt sorry. He felt sorry for himself. He was an older model -the scarecrow model – no moving parts. All he could do was to continue standing on top of the hill and observe them. He felt bad that he could never have any friends.

 

Word Count: 128

 

FFFAW Photo Prompt Challenge #164

Vague

“So Mr. Khurana, what did you see in your dream?”

Vishnu Khurana was sitting in a plush recliner. Sitting directly in front of him, in an equally comfortable recliner was Dr. Bose. The décor of the clinic created a relaxing environment. Vishnu sat staring at the ceiling with his shoulders hunched and arms resting on his laps. He looked troubled.

“Doctor, is this really helping? The weird dreams just don’t stop.”

Dr. Bose adjusted his thin frame glasses and uncrossed his legs.

“Mr. Khurana, we have been seeing each other just for a week now. She requested me to talk to you and help you in dealing with your nightmares.”

Vishnu suddenly stood up.

“I have told you, they are not nightmares.”

“Yes, yes. These not-so-pleasant dreams, we will deal with them. Please have a seat and tell me about the one you had yesterday night. Was it vague again?”

Vishnu sat back into the recliner.

“Doctor, the dreams are never vague. Just this particular character..”

“..the lady?”

“Yeah, the lady. The rest of the things I see in my dream are crystal-clear. So, the dream began with me lying on a charpoy in the middle of nowhere. I just lay there gazing at the cloudless blue sky. There were no birds, no sun even. Just a constant shade of blue.”

“Do continue.”

“After that, I got up from the charpoy and a motorcycle appeared from nowhere. It just apparated right in front of me.”

“That happens in dreams. It is quite normal. Go on.”

“I got on the bike and began going down the road.”

“Which road?”

“There was just one road. It also came into existent right after I got on the bike.”

The doctor scribbled something in his notebook.

“Very well, go on.”

“As I was riding down the road, all I could see was barren land all around me. It was arid, as if it had been devoid of water for decades.”

Dr. Bose nodded, indicating that Vishnu should continue.

“Suddenly, I reached a city. There were buildings and shops and parked vehicle, but no people. It was an empty city.”

“There was not a single person present?”

“None. No living thing at all.”

Dr. Bose nodded and made more notes. Vishnu reached for the glass of water kept on the adjacent table. He took a large gulp and placed the glass back in its position.

“Then I continued riding and reached the bazaar. I could tell because it had different shops there. In fact, all establishments over there were shops other than one. That one was a temple.”

“A temple. Alright, go on Mr. Khurana.”

“I get off the bike and step inside the temple. Again, there is no one there – complete darkness. However, a few feet away I can see a luggage bag. I could see it because it was glowing. So, I walked towards it, picked it up and walked out.”

“You did not check what was in the bag?”

“No, doctor I did not. I just walked out and got on to the bike. Then I sped off.”

“Okay, Mr. Khurana. Please continue.”

“I took the same road and returned to the same charpoy, from where I had started my dream. And then I saw her – The lady. I handed the luggage bag over to her, she walked off, and I woke up with the feeling that something was wrong. Like every night.”

“In your previous visits, you had said you could not see her clearly. How do you know it was the same lady?”

“I know, because I could feel it, doctor. She felt familiar. This time, I could see her a bit more clearly. I could make out that she was wearing a short red dress.”

“What about her face? Get a look at that?”

“No, doctor. The rest of her, including her face was still vague.”

Dr. Bose clicked his pen, indicating the session was over.

“Well, we seem to be making progress, Mr. Khurana. These troublesome dreams will stop soon. I am increasing the dosage of your medicines for now. Don’t forget to take them twice every day.”

The doctor handed over a medicine bottle to Vishnu who pocketed it. The two got up from their spots and began walking towards the door of the clinic.

“Thank you, doctor. I hope these dreams stop occurring.”

“I hope so too, Mr. Khurana. We will make that happen. Have a nice day.”

“Goodbye, doctor.”

Dr. Bose closed the door behind Vishnu. He walked to the window and watched as Vishnu got into his car and drove away. After he had gone out of sight, Dr. Bose fished out his phone and placed a call. A sultry voice answered the call.

“Hi, doctor. How did it go?”

“It is not going as well as planned. He remembers a great deal of his night activities.”

“Does he remember it all?”

“No, it is just a vague representation. He sees an empty city instead of a room full of people he has killed and other such things.”

“Then it is okay, the drug is working. He has no idea what he is up to every night.”

“Yes, it is working. Besides, I gave your husband a stronger dosage of the drug. Just in case.”

“Very well, doctor. Our plan seems to be going in order.”

“By the way, were you wearing red yesterday night when you collected the bag of drugs from him?”

“That was good doctor! How did you know?”

“Just a vague guess.”

 

 

 

Image courtesy: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/49/66/59/4966594ee5b2349c0eb802f05b90dda3.jpg

via Daily Prompt: Vague

The Antique Shop

“No, no, it is not for sale.”

Lee waved his hands frantically at the customer. The customer, a tall American sighed as he placed his hands on his hips. His sky blue eyes darted between Lee’s red face and his object of interest – a blue and gold dragon scale. It was majestic to look at and had an arcane air about it. The American was in complete awe of its splendor. Lee knew that was the only reason the American was still haggling, even after such a long time. He knew the American wanted it badly. The unblemished polish on the scale’s blue body and the striking gold outline could leave anyone wanting.

Lee puffed out hot air, calming himself down.  They had been at it for around ten minutes now. It was not the longest haggling Lee had done, but certainly on the longer side. He had been in the antiques and souvenir business for many years. He called his shop The Authentic Antiques. Lee had dealt with tougher customers. Chinatown, where Lee’s shop and house was located, saw many visitors of different ethnicities. They all had their tricks and techniques, which had only served improved Lee’s skills over the years. Lee was proud of his family owned shop. His father had handled it before Lee and his grandfather before him and so on. His daughter would handle it when Lee was no more, and so it would go on. He personally arranged and rearranged all the items in the shops with care. Tea cups, daggers, lockets, fridge magnets – any and all kinds of souvenirs could be found in Lee’s shop. The shop interior was lit in a combination of red and yellow lights, preserving the traditional Chinatown vibe. Lee’s shop attracted quite a few tourists around the year, but the sales had been down for a few months now.

The American had entered the shop half an hour ago. Lee could instantly tell he was American from the way he spoke and dressed. Lee had a knack of figuring out a tourist’s country of origin, it was his job. Upon a polite enquiry, the American had told Lee that he was not looking for anything in particular. However, he added that he wanted something whose origins lay in the realm of the mystical. The American told Lee that he was fan of wizardry and divination and had a soft spot for anything to do with supernatural forces. Lee liked this kind of customers. They usually paid more than usual, as long as they were sold on the story of the antique being authentic. The items in question were dubiously authentic at best, although such customers did not mind that. Lee had fetched many-a-item for the perusal of the American. He did not even give a second look to Quan’s Sword and Guan’s Jade tablet. He had spent some time looking at the black necklace of sorceress Wu Li. However, he decided that he already possessed the pendant of Circe, and another similar antiquity would serve him no better. The American had turned to leave when his sights fell on a dazzling blue and gold item lying on wall shelf. He had asked Lee about it. Lee had replied saying that it was a dragon scale and that it was not for sale. Both the statements had served in piquing the American’s interest. He had walked towards it and requested Lee to let him see it up close. Lee had agreed and let the American hold the scale in his hands. The American held it for a good two minutes, simply gazing at it without uttering a single word. When he had handed it back to Lee, his eyes were twinkling.

“Mr. Lee, how much is this for?”

Lee held his palms up and shook his head to the sides.

“Sir, this is not for sale. It is a family heirloom, brings us good fortune.”

The American smiled for the first time, turning on his charm. Lee had seen this trick numerous times. Customers would shoot smiles at him in order to get a better deal, and Lee had seen the most gorgeous smiles over the years. This smile however, did not even rank in the top fifty percent of those.

“I am sure a decent offer would change your mind about it.”

“No, no, it is not for sale.”

Lee waved his hands frantically at the American. The American placed his hands on his hips and stood undeterred.

“Mr. Lee, you can have five hundred dollars for it.”

“Look sir, I showed you the best antiques I have, and I guarantee these are the best in all of Chinatown, entirely authentic. Would you not like any of them? We could negotiate on a fair price there.”

“I understand you, Mr. Lee. However, I only want the dragon scale. It would be the crown jewel in my collection.”

“It may just be a part of your collection for you sir, but it has a lot more value to me.”

“I understand your sentimentality. I really do. And for that I am willing to offer you a hundred dollars more.”

“Sir, I am telling you that the scale is priceless. You cannot just value it at six hundred dollars.”

The American looked disappointed. He fished out his wallet and removed ten crisp hundred-dollar bills from it.

“Mr. Lee, this is my final offer- A thousand dollars, in cash. Think about it. It is a darn good deal, if I ever saw one.”

Lee tapped his left temple and looked up to the ceiling. The American was pleased to see that his offer was being considered. He waited patiently for Lee to make up his mind. After what seemed like ages for the American, Lee extended his right hand toward him.

“Deal!”

The American shook Lee’s hand as he displayed a wide grin on his face. He handed the wad of bills to Lee and quickly snatched the dragon scale. He shook his fist in the air as a sign of victory.

“Sir, please do take good care of it. You are taking a part of my family with you.”

“I will, Mr. Lee. Thank you so much.”

The smile on the American’s face vanished as he turned and left swiftly from the shop. Lee saw him out and checked the time.

“Time to close the shop,”

He announced.

Lee’s shop was connected to his house via a back door. After locking up the entrance, Lee took the back door and entered his house. His wife called out to him from the kitchen.

“How did it go?”

“It went well. Made a good sale today.”

“Ah! The old heirloom story?”

Lee laughed as he proceeded in removing his clothes.

“Yes, the same old story. Always works like a charm.”

She joined in on the laughter.

“You and your convincing lies! Get ready quickly darling, we are having duck tonight.”

Lee was ready to feast on the ducks his wife had prepared for him.

“You know, I really don’t feel as if I am lying. It is the truth. After all, it is a family thing and it is authentic.”

He lay comfortably on the stone floor.

“Darling, before we have our dinner, could you pluck out one more scale from my back? I don’t like leaving the shelf empty.”

“I will, I will. But only after eating. After all, dragons need their food.”

Lee snorted in agreement letting out a small jet of fire from his nostrils. His huge blue and golden form curled up on the floor, waiting for the arrival of the juicy ducks.

 

 

Image credit : http://www.beijing-tours.cn/beijing-shopping/beijing-antique-store.html

 

via Daily Prompt: Authentic