Category: Microprose

Colonnades

Photo: Canva.com

Reflecting on memories during the late thirties is like taking a walk through long colonnades. She has felt it a hundred times.

The ranked memories, each alcove created for each event from the childhood, adolescence and the glorious youthful days.
Some nights, when we are all alone, we see a full moon shining through the colonnades; whose solemn look befits all the sweet evocations.
On radiant days, shadowy but warm colonnades remind of the unspoken apprehensions, and agonies we once survived.

Just as the colonnades are magnificent, so are our memories.
Still, somewhere exists fallen colonnades, the vexed memories.

________

99 words

{Flash Fiction Challenge January 17 2019}

In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes colonnades.

 

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The Unfortunates

Photo  by Yinglan

From where he stood, the place appeared like a verdant meadow.
The rich kids in colored T-shirts were playing. Their posh houses were visible from his spot. Witnessing their plays, shouts and screams delighted him. 

The winter has caused all the trees to look like tall skeletons. 
It was noon. But the haze didn’t give way to the typical noon-day warmth.
The kids didn’t bother either. What’s more important than playing outdoors with friends?

His stomach grumbled. He hastily moved to the gully side of the meadow.
His ungloved thin hands started sorting the things found there.
Being a ragpicker kid, he was searching for his ‘gold’ in those ditches.

________________

111 words

{FFfAW Challenge – 200th-Photo Prompt}

Unavoidable Cries

woman walking on street during day time

(Photo: Stéphane Hermellin via Unsplash)

Mala peeled off, at a snail’s pace.
Suffering, she couldn’t hasten it either. 
Tears overflowing her red eyes.

All the while she was paring the onionthoughts about the layers maintained by her only son plagued her. 

Decades ago her motherwhile working in their onion fields, had remarked, “Life is like onions!” But the twelve-year-old Mala had no clue.

Her parents toiled like slaves to make the two ends meet. But, when they were all set to sell their bumper yields, onion prices had stooped down too low. Obtained nothing, not even peanuts.

Poverty-stricken farmers protested. Mala’s father had gone a little further, burnt his onion field and committed suicide.

She hated onions.

Still, working as a cook in Mumbai City, she had no choice.

All she could do is cry, daily, hoping that someday her pains get cocooned in its many layers, just like the onions.

__________________________

150 words

{What Pegmain Saw-Location prompt-Mumbai}

India is the second largest producer of onions in the world. Maharashtra state leads in onion production. Mumbai in Maharashtra has some of the largest onion markets.

Seasonal Jumps

three line tales, week 154: people skipping over stones in the waterPhoto by Nattu Adnan via Unsplash

In the spring of life, we jump with rhythm, in the water, on the bed and the trampoline alike, our priceless joys. 

In the autumnwe jump to rediscover the lost childhood or to keep a check, on the heart and the fat.

In the winterwe jump every time the body goes numb, and reassure the world that we are still alive.

____________

63 words

{Three Line Tales, Week 154}

Sweet Tooth

PHOTO PROMPT © Priya Bajpal

Saras has learned the lessons only a toothache can teach, promptly to disregard when the ache is gone. The fifty-eight-year-old woman can’t quit the sweet stuff. 
A tooth removal was essential. Being a heedless patient, her dentist has stopped exchanging pleasantries. Services weren’t denied, thanks to the Hippocratic oath.

At the clinic, while experiencing excruciating pain, her eyes fell on the multi-colored candies kept in a jar on the pebbled surface teapoy. 
Before leaving after the procedure Saras queried someone if she could take some.
“Of course!” 

Candy-like papers with dental health tips left her bitter for the remaining day.

________________________________

100 words

{Friday Fictioneers}

 

Reminiscences

purple flowers on brown open book

Photo by Debby Hudson via Unsplash

Being the healthiest, she often prepared the inmates their favorite meal.
The way some recalled their life reduced her to tears, but nothing from her own made her so.

Neither that she had to give up her studies for the family’s sake nor that she got repeatedly cheated by the sole man of her lifeleaving her and the kids destitute.
Barely the times she forgave him only to repeat the cycle and the numerous times her kids failed her, and finally abandoned her.

She had allowed what came in, let what left her and seen what remained.

__________________

99 words

{January 3: Flash Fiction Challenge}