“It is going to be legendary” he pinged him “Like all other ideas?” she teased “Mock me all you want, I am still doing it.” “And if it fails, you would not be upset.” “Never. I would have tried it and I know It will be fun.” “It will be, let’s get the ball rolling on this podcast then.”
“We asked for a place people would not note at all”
“You asked for a place to hide the spaceship”
“Not a tourist place like this”
“You only need it the night, why waste it in the day”
“How does attracting people help?”
“Are you kidding? Don’t you know the earning from tourists”
“You are being crazy.” “Maybe. And you are starting to irritate me” “How dare you, I have been posing here and there and everywhere ..” “Because you like your pictures” “My face deserves your camera. Why should I scale this bridge for a back shot?” “Because that’s the prompt, Love”
She had come so far that there was no turning back now, she had convinced herself all the way. He stood on top of the stairs, waiting for her with a smile that was too troubling for her heart. She took a deep breath and turned away before she had a change of heart; She would not become his secret lover even if she loved him more than the world.
******** Written for Three Line Tales #190 This September, I’m taking my blog to the next level with Blogchatter’s #MyFriendAlexa campaign.
The child was creating a ruckus as was his favorite thing to do in the afternoon. It was only when she heard footsteps on the roof, she decided to check for monkeys but found the empty kitchen. Everything within his reach was in its place but the hanging pots were another story.
He had managed to jump on the roof, now giggling and running free. “Young man, If you refuse to come down right now, you are not getting any dinner” Mary yelled as she looked up at the window. “Your powers should have slept for another ten years”, she muttered as she called his guardian to come handle this complication.
The cardinal rule, she repeated to herself, was never to forget his kindness.Even if it came attached to an arrogance that scared her. Some relations, for the sake of a name, are built on rules, which are expected to be adhered to at all times. In his case, she knew better to test those boundaries. So years passed, but she dared not to ask if he still remembered the stories they made together. Somewhere far away, he opens the old emails; taking strength from her words and presence; even if it was something he never deserved.
“I liked the rush, I liked the crunch. Never did look back at the fallout. I knew I wasn’t alone in the vast desert road as I frequently heard the howling animals follow my trail, while still hidden in the shrubs. I was not scared or worried, instead, I felt alive for the first time in years. ”
He hit send on the latest entry for the blog he was maintaining to record his daily progress and thoughts he had on his last adventure.
A thousand miles away, sitting in her bed, she read the blog as soon as it was published. This was her only connection to his world since he walked out if it to follow his passion.
“Why do you keep going back to that forest? “ “It just feels right to go home to rest” “There used to be your home years back. Also, do you feel tired? “ “No. I just feel that nights are to go home and rest.” “Uh Uh, There is something wrong in the code. You can not be showing ancient human symptoms. It has been ages they slept in the night. The Internet ruined that. “Am I not human, then?”
This is the final part of the story. Part 1 & Part 2 [linked]
“I did not expect you to look older though”, he said genuinely surprised to find her standing in front of him.
“We age too, and part of this is to blend in when I visit Earth.” She replied as she settled on the mountain ledge.
“How did you even find this place ?”, she continued.
“Followed the signs from the old stories my ancestors collected. I realized quite late that stories are where all the knowledge is hidden. It’s a pity, people have stopped listening to them”. He said softly
“The stories are your bloodline, same as your son’s, all this while. I feared he would fare best as a storyteller. And he figured the same when he seeked you out to learn this dying art.”
“My son ?” he asked puzzled, till he remembered the young man at his home, the one who after a year, had left that very morning to spread the ancient wisdom in the world, as a payment for his training.