Category: Sudden Fiction

Prophecy

Photo Jasper Wilde via Unsplash

The shabby lone woman exited her hut to inspect the sea.

Peculiar shades of red laughed in the horizon.
Birds flapped across the evening sky.

The shore was all tensed up over the impending arrival of a disaster.
Fishing nets had oarfish, which predicted an upcoming tsunami or earthquake.

She, who knew it was coming, fell into a meditative trance.

The sea was calm for the next days until she disappeared from the place.

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74 Words-Inspired by a recent news

{Weekend Writing Prompt #93 – Horizon}

 

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Paper Boats in the Monsoon

Subramanya Bhat

Photo Credit Subramanya Bhat (Photo for SPF)

A delayed child, who never spoke, giggles to herself.
Everyone except me thinks she is defective. None in that big, rich family cared.
Somehow she knew I appreciated her. She hugs my gifts and giggles.

I visited her last monsoon. She was playing with paper boats in puddles of water. She appeared angelic.

A fallen coconut, her port. Boats named in an unknown script. Suddenly she spoke a peculiar language fluently.
The signs were good enough, she was an angel.
She hugged the pink sweater gift and giggled.

A month later saw her lifeless body wearing that pink sweater.

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99 words

{Sunday Photo Fiction – February 10, 2019}

{February 7: Flash Fiction Challenge}

Trails of History

aerial view of city buildings during nighttime

Photo: Andre Benz via Unsplash

The old lady couldn’t interpret the hoopla and the coverage shown in the morning television news. After several minutes, she could realize it was about the series of thefts that happened in Manhattan City. The reporter was describing the CCTV footages that presented a group of people entering different stores stealing items.
Her great-granddaughter was managing a stationery store in the city. But, that didn’t prompt the lady to call her and enquire the matters. 

Hours later, the grey-haired lady received a message from her granddaughter which affirmed the theft in her store too.

Tinged with her own Native American history, she remembered the innumerable thefts and the trails of tears her tribe had to endure centuries ago. Manhattan may be a national treasure today, but it was somebody else’s yesterday. 
Store thefts appeared trivial. 

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{What Pegman Saw-Manhattan Island}

My Granny’s Patio

spf 11-18-18 joy pixley 2Photo Credit: Joy Pixley

A long patio covered with garlic vines where my granny rested in a rocking chair is one of my strongest childhood memories.

I had constantly wondered why my granny selected those vines to decorate our patio of all the flowering climbers. She had told it was because of the lovely purple blooms, as blue shaded flowers were the rarest. I had believed that for quite some time.

As I grew up, I realized those plants resembled my granny in a way. She cherished me so much. She was the family I was closest to. She maintained the serene look befitting an angel and was an epitome of love. It was shocking to know she had beaten up her long-estranged husband, who left her for another when he tried taking away my little aunt.

I know why she had been growing garlic vines. It was a reminder.
Garlic vines are one of the most rewarding plants when left alone. They did emit the intolerably pungent garlic smell only when crushed.

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169 words

{Sunday Photo Fiction – January 27, 2019}

A Knitter from Eastland

brown and white chapel

Photo by Beau Swierstra via Unsplash

The way Kaisa had introduced herself during our undergraduate course was interestingly informative. She was a cheerful lady in her 30s.

Hello friendsI am Kaisa. I see I am older than you all, but I come from a nation much younger than yours. I come from Tallinnthe capital of Estonia, a remote country in Europe. Many believe we are the defenseless dorp of Russia or just a Baltic hinterland or an idiosyncratic population of renegades. But I oppose, may be humble, but we are unique. A splendid group of people who possess a distinct culture, languagefood and lovely lands. We witnessed various rulersendured a lot. I dream of the day my country is known for the right reasons, not as an appendage of any nation!

My fond memory is Kaisa hand knitting gloves for gifting. 
Before parting she had gifted me a knitted phone pouch. Precious.

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150 words

{What Pegman Saw- Estonia}

 

Still Waters

three line tales, week 156: stars over the sea
Photo by Sam Loyd via Unsplash

The riverside, echoing eerie stories, stood notorious for its paranormal activities.

The still waters that never reflect the starry night skies, the large mangrove trees which hide the haunted palace, the broken statue of a murdered prince which is heard making pleas for help in nights.

Sam and Jill brushed aside all these until they heard mysterious footsteps and disembodied screams the night they had arrived at the riverside. 

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69 words

{Three Line Tales, Week 156}

The Genes

img_2072Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

I enjoyed the way my three-year-old girl, Disha, pointed her chubby fingers towards a painting placed in her pre-school. I have asked her which picture she liked the most.

It was a picture of a girl presenting a flower to a pooh bear.
“That’s an excellent picture!” I congratulated her selection.

She surprised me by pointing to another picture saying,“ No like, no like!”
I asked her why.

“The cow is eating flowers, Mama! No like!!”
My eyes scrutinized the painting. It was a donkey.

I knew correcting my kid was useless, as she thinks she created and named almost all animals and birds. Still, I tried, “That’s a donkey, not a cow, Disha! Look at its head.”

She swayed her head negatively.
A memory struck me.

My five-year-old self who believed all the eggs in our farm was laid by our bunny and the hens were the enemies who came to peck them. None of my family could convince me otherwise, for a long time.

I laughed at the way the genes work.

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174 words

{Sunday Photo Fiction-January 20, 2019}