Ed and Jane had put all their life savings in erecting their two storey home. When typhoon Katrina lashed their city, their warm, cosy hearth was reduced to a dilapidated structure. The kids refused to live their anymore. They said it reminded them of that fateful day. But there was more to it than meets the eye. The occasional sightings under their bed. Their door creaking open at 3 A.M. They had endured it silently, knowing their overtly pragmatic parents…
“Hey Philipe! Guess what, the Art Fair is on this Sunday.” “Date?” says Matt, rather mysteriously over the phone. It has been over a fortnight since they last spoke. Their squabbles had become way too frequent, so they were taking time away.
Istanbul, 1970 Every night they sat huddled under the exquisite lamppost erected by the Turkish noble. They were a bunch of homeless vagabonds. The lamppost was a witness to imaginary tales, true adventures and some silly, inane anecdotes. On lucky days, they shared piping hot tea and leftover bread, handed over by some generous passerby.
“I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas,” Vivian hummed, as the barren tree outside the living room window stared back at her. The icicles lent it a certain character, though.
My Thoughts on Seeing This Prompt: Yikes! I’m not going to write this one. It looks dark, gloomy and will not elude a great story. But then I haven’t written for my favourite Friday Fictioneers for the past two weeks. I was away traveling, and when I returned I got swamped by life’s little follies. I’m back this week armed with lots of cheer and sunshine on my shoulder. So let me give this a shot. Let’s see how it…
It’s a rare, sunny morning in Chicago. That special kind of morning when the sun streams right on to your shoulders, and your spirits are simply soaring. “What a memorable work trip,” thinks Sonia smugly. “I’ll grab a bite and then binge shop at Bloomingdales.” She turns around to eye the building. A gorgeous hunk stumbles into her, knocking some coffee on her brand new dress. Sonia gapes at his steel, blue eyes; mesmerised, not one bit upset….
Vishwas Kapur, the CEO of India’s second largest company, is a spiritual man known for his philanthropic deeds. His employees love and revere him completely. After all he is firm, yet generous with his words and actions.
“Woooah! What are those multi-coloured beauties we have on the mantle piece, Mommy?” asked Sam. “New additions to my artifact collection, Hun. Urns and vases, specially imported from Istanbul,” Eva replied proudly.
The strawberries went disappearing each night. Some one was definitely having a field day, thought Nathan. Whodunit? The neighbourhood kids? But there was a criminal. Unsuspected, unbeknownst. Mr. Rabbit and his little clan. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ Written as part of #MicroMondays, hosted by the gorgeous couple Varad of Loose End Of The Thread and Namratha of Namy Says So. Each week we are given a set word count for a piece of micro fiction, and…
For Ron, it’s a challenge to make ends meet, so a personal phone is totally out of question. His girl friend, Anna lives in Johor Bharu, while he lives in Singapore. At 7, every day evening, Ron goes to the nearest MRT station to call her. A time they both look forward to and cherish, every single day. Today when he calls Anna, a male voice answers the phone, “Hello!”