Category: Yeahwrite Fiction

Heart of Gold

gold-and-silver-colored pendant necklace

Photo:Alex Chambers via Unsplash

As he calculated the hard-saved money under the dull light, his lips curved into a smile.
“Enough for a lovely gift to her!”

His wife had openly alleged that she was unloved by her husband.

Every time she had rushed into explaining about the no-gifts received from him during their one year of marriage, he felt reduced to dead broke. Finally, she had left him to stay with her mother.

Being heartbroken both husband and wife had started speaking broken English. They started conveying their woes to their non-native neighbors.

 
In an overemotional and exaggerated tone, she told, “You seeanniversarybirthdayvalentine’s day, new year and other festivals, all went without a giftnot even a rose. No more stay with this beggar!” Then she would cry, reminding the worst Pokemon cries.

On the other hand, he would say, “Money comes, money goes, money stays with me not, just like her!” He would sit like a monkey whose only banana was snatched by another.

With six months of diligent effort and having saved enough money to buy her a gold necklace, he headed to the jewelry street of the town. It was dusk. His mind was full of dreams. The moment she would set her eyes on the necklace, she would seize her bag and return with him.

As he proceeded, a hand as smooth as rose petals, snatched his wrist. 
Coming back from the dream world, he observed a pretty damsel.

Overwhelmed with griefshe informed him about her mother being hospitalized for life-saving surgery. If she couldn’t collect the needed money within an hourshe would lose her only family. As it was dusk, no one was ready to lend her a loan*.

 She offered him her 30-gram gold chain and begged to give whatever money he has to save her from becoming an orphan. He could help her, she thought. At the minimum, he was spotted in the jewelry street.

A charming damsel in distress! His simpleton village heart melted.

He had 24 grams of a gold necklace in mind, and he was offered 30 grams gold chain for lesser money by the damsel. A profitable deal!

He handed over his money. As the damsel ran away, he felt contented.

The following day, he went to sell the gold chain given by the damsel only to find it was a beautiful strand of rolled gold.

_______________________

{YeahWrite Fiction Challenge 405}
Genre Prompt: Comedy
Personality Trait: Impulsive

*In many cultures, lending money or items in the evening is considered a taboo.

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High-and-Mighty

shallow focus photography of dried leaf

Photo:Harli Marten via Unsplash

Her seventy-two winter-kissed body skin glowed with a healthy pink tinge. A little bit of Botox and other contemporary techniques, with the world’s best make-up kits and stylistsabove all a never-ending cash pile is all that it took her to become the talk of the town. Funeral fashion has become lax with Alaena, who pretended death doesn’t exist for her.

Everything came to a halt when a nagging headache conquered her. The pain-averse culture counseled her about the most modern medicine. But who could assure her that it won’t affect her appearance? 

Her Rolls Royce steered to the outskirts.
There lived a wrinkled and grey-haired forty-two-year-old man, gifted for curing any ailment with mere water brought by his patients.

At the door of his mansionAlaena wanted to know his name and affiliation.
“My name is Tomato.” She couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t mind a bit.

He offered her the loftiest seat and turned back to sit three feet opposite to her.
She couldn’t shift her eyes off his long tail, possessing an arrow at its tipsweeping the floor he walked.

“What took you to my place?” His eyes sparkled like garnet in the light.
When the bemused woman demanded a cure for her throbbing headache, he nodded affirmatively.

With the first gulp of water in her bottle, she felt completely fineMuch surprised and delighted, she thanked him, a rare gesture.

“But man, I am intrigued, why do you look like an old monkey, with that disgusting tail?”
In reply, he consumed the remaining water she had brought.

Before long her mask fell off, her wrinkles became prominent, and her protruded cheekbones, snowy –white hair and sunken eyes gave her the look of a skeleton.

She ran out the door screaming until she fell down dead, covered in the village dust.

Alaena’s Rolls Royce is still parking at Tomato’s mansion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

316 words

[For readers’ information, the prompt was to write fiction in the genre ‘Magical Realism’ including the personality trait ‘vain’]

{Written for YeahWrite #404 }

Broken Memories

bokeh photography

Photo:Sharon McCutcheon 

It was the Christmas Eve. The grand family meeting was going on. 

Grandmas were dancing slowly, occasionally exclaiming, 
“Wow, we’re dancing after a long time!”

Children did their own business which others couldn’t decipher.
Everything was perfect. Everyone was happy.

Then, Irene, my mother-in-lawstarted it, “Get off me…how dare you?!

Though all eyes, and ears, were in Irene’s way, none saw anything.

Irene has been a shy and quiet person always.

 Nothing but bewilderment remained.

“What happened?” 

“These thingsCan’t you see, these sparkly things are coming for me. They’re gonna savor my eyesget them away from me!” 

Is it the lights?” 

“No!!”

“Maybe fireflies!” 

“NO…NO ….These sparkly bits…Monsters!!!

She shouted bringing all the merry to halt. 
Until her death, she kept reciting those words, typical of schizophrenics.

Today my mother joined us for Christmas. 
The way she described our living room, sent chills down my spine.

“Oh!! It’s sparkly…SO SPARKLY!!

{Written for YeahWrite Fiction 402}

Syzygy (Fiction-Queasy)

Image result for Blood Moon

(Photo: Huffingtonpost.in)

 

Once again she was seen smiling and everything seemed normal, at times perfect.

She was feeding the baby putting him to sleep, even planting kisses on his tiny adorable face.

Her colorful garden betokened her aesthetic taste and personal style.

The family rejoiced in the strength of the medicineHer heart pounded with contentment and gratitude.

Life in a feathered nest!

 

 

Out of the blue, the earth pronounced to align between the sun and the moon.

The blood moon made her queasy. 

Queasy pops gave way to antidepressants, which were equally futile.

The garden was in bad.

Thenceforward the baby was fed formula milk.

{Yeahwrite Fiction 401}

Love Rock & Bread Rolls (Fiction-Mouldy)

Image result for basket on beach

                                                                                              (Photo: Shutterstock.com)

Every grain of the beach sand started glistening as the setting sun rays waved them good bye.

The middle aged man and woman found their way towards the rock they claimed as their own. Loving an inanimate object, as hard as a rock, assures emotional feelings attached to it.

It was the prime site to view the sunset, moreover it was where they had declared their love. Good enough reasons to love a big, dull colored round stone which they named as “love rock.”

That rock was their favorite spot for 32 years. Before marriage their beach visits happened every weekend carrying rustic bread rolls, unique to Reiners Bread & Snack shop. They talked, they laughed, and they shared the snack which remained his favorite. They sat silently. They were in love.

Getting married changed up their routines. Their already infrequent beach visits dwindled, it was merely twice or thrice after starting a family.

When life demanded relocation to assume increased responsibilities, they obeyed. The love rock and the bread rolls stayed in their heart but were no more in their life. The couple missed them both very dearly. Fantastic events of the initial decades of marriage gave away to run-of-the-mill days.

The humdrum encouraged them to go back to the familiar place. They decided to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary at the love rock with just the Reiners bread rolls and wine taken in a basket.

In the evening,  they reached the beach. Both of them enjoyed a regained life. They sat on the love rock silently. The sky appeared lovely with a blaze of pinks and oranges.

Suddenly he spoke.

“Will you ever forget me?”

She was startled by the completely unrelated question.
Before she could respond he shivered, went numb and was seen lying on the rock leaving off the snack basket. The bread pieces fell off his hand onto the rock.

A cry for help was all that she could remember. All efforts proved fruitless, for he had started his return journey too early.

Ten days after the funeral she visited the beach. She believed he was still lying there on the rock, expecting her.

All she found were the mouldy bread rolls left by him on the rock.

“Oh dear, you left those for me, didn’t you?” She cried.

“I know…I know…that’s why it’s untouched by ants and birds. You definitely left them for me…”

People noted the woman insanely picking up something from the rock, and eating.