Tag Archives: hundred days of fiction

the Shot

Photo by MarkusmitK@pixabay.com

“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”

******
Written for Twittering Tales#155 and Six sentence Story

*********

This September, I’m taking my blog to the next level with Blogchatter’s #MyFriendAlexa campaign.

********
Check out my weekly newsletter here

Secret

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.

********
Check out my weekly newsletter here

complication

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.

Written for Six sentence Story and Friday Fictioneers

**
[I am taking part in this month’s #MyFriendAlexa campaign by Blogchatter ]

********
Check out my weekly newsletter here

Presence

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.

***

Written for Six sentence Story

**
[I am taking part in this month’s #MyFriendAlexa campaign by Blogchatter ]

********
Check out my weekly newsletter here

Spirits

CCC#43

The detective was called in the end.

It turns out, it was actually “the end” of the good winter in their zone, when food and wine had been enough to keep the people happy inside the houses.

Things were about to change and no detective could stop it, or even have a clue how it would start and where it would lead the people of the town.

None of the residents were old enough to understand the significance of the coats found hanging on the edge of the forest.

But the detective, whose father and grandfather had been from the town knew – he had been told the stories in preparation of similar event.

“The forest spirits have come to collect their dues “, he said, crossing himself as he walked back to the town, to confirm their worst fears.

**

Inspired by Six sentence Story & Crimsons Creative Challenge

**
[I am taking part in this month’s #MyFriendalexa campaign by Blogchatter ]

********
Check out my weekly [almost] newsletter here

Stories

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.

Written for Six Sentence Story

The Meeting

[Part 1 of this tale was posted last week here ]

Hiding behind the heavily scented flowers, he felt a sense of calmness surround him.

His mind wandered to the first time he had seen her – in another waterfall that also served as a portal to Hell.

He never asked nor knew why she was banished from earth, even after she had taken their son away from him.

Suddenly he realized that she was no longer visible from his position.

He padded along the rocks, trying to find another spot to keep her in his sight.

Before he could settle again, he heard her standing behind him, “You look older”.

===

Inspired by Crimson’s creative Challenge (Image) , Six sentence story (pad) and Twiglet

SON

Cenote Cave in the Yukatan by mattiaverga at Pixabay.com

He finally found the secret cave.
She appeared in the early morning with her guards.
As she waved in and out of the waterfall, she relished being home.
This was one of the few spots she could enter Earth.
This was where she met her son each year.

And today he too would see his boy.


====

Inspired by Six sentence story (word prompt: wave) and Twittering tales (image prompt)

Meeting point

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

“They congregated up in the hills, far away from judging eyes”, he answered.
We were newly inducted to this secret society which my great-grandfather had started to track unexplained people and keep detailed records.We gathered intel on these aliens among humans who needed to be handled immediately.
“But that would be extreme,to do now”
“We can meet in this plaza”, he offered.
“The one with the white statue with eyes covered ?”
“Yeah, she sees nothing. We see nothing. The fucking world sees nothing nowadays.”
The cameras see it all, we knew but those could be erased.


=======
Inspired by First Line Friday (first line) and Friday Fictioneers (photo)

My stroy

Photo by Zoë Pappas at Pexels.com
“Take all the time you want,” he said encouragingly, pushing the paper and pen along with it, towards me.
If only I had time, I thought.
I knew I had to do this soon, if not right away. So, after years of hiding behind silence, I wrote the story all wanted to hear,but not the truth.

===
Written for Twittering tales ( story in 280 characters or less, based on image )