Tag: Microprose

Exceptional Lives

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Every time I think of my hundred-year-old great grandmother, I remember her room window. A black-and-white photograph that pictures a woman gifted with a rare beauty, looking out through her window, longing for her long away husband flashes in mind.

After decades, all saw her; a mother looking through the window mourning her gone son.

The youngest generation loved her as their favorite humorist who always sat beside the window.

She had seen so much life that after she was gone, even her window and the bricks of her room started recounting her tales. Something we all like to cherish.

 

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100 words

{Friday Fictioneers}

Lasting Love

three line tales, week 159: a little fellow dangling from a graffiti heart
Photo by Nick Fewings via Unsplash

Many marry, just the play of immature love.
Many marry, learn to tie the perfect knot of a hanging rope.
Some marry and find the wedded bliss.
True Love is the last love, lasting love.

____________________________________________________

35 words

{Three Line Tales, Week 159}

Happy Campers in Need

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

 

Our sister’s transformation from a lively girl to a depressed doll took a toll on us.
Our cousin, Rose, who accompanied us in one of the trips could make her smile and talk, a couple of times.
During the campfire, our sister almost danced a few steps. 

Rose was quick to intervene when she kept staring at the fire.
Well, what do you see?”

“Folded human hands, requesting help!”
“Oh! It reminds me of the grilled, spicy corn cobs, so D.E.L.I.C.I.O.U.S.!
“That sounds yummy!” Our sister cried enthusiastically.

Sometimes, all we need is someone to alter our cerebrations.

__________________________

99 words

{Friday Fictioneers}

Cozened

grayscale photo of two men in cave with body of water

Photo:Warren Wong via Unsplash

I had no reason to turn down my boyfriend’s marriage proposal. We had met only two months before. My family disapproved, but he was so kind and respectful. He seemed quite well off though we didn’t talk much on that.
I cried the day he had gifted me the tickets to The Baths, in the British Virgin Islands. He had planned to celebrate our V-Day in my dream destination.

The unique island vibes when coral sands blend with blue water, posh resorts, superb food and snorkeling, everything in our menu seemed mesmerizing. We trotted through the white beach-sand, took perfectly posed, but candid, selfies leaning against the granite boulders.

Passing an abandoned grotto, I saw my man receiving small white packets from a stranger, hiding it and proceeding like nothing ever happened.

In a drug smuggling corridor with a dealer!

I understood the trap I was in, but too late.

_______________________________

150 words

{What Pegman Saw -The Baths, British Virgin Islands}

 

 

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}

 

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.

________________________

99 words

{Sunday Photo Fiction – February 10, 2019}

{February 7: Flash Fiction Challenge}

Dragons

SPF 10-07-18 CE AYR 4Photo Credit: C.E. Ayr

Every day I despise,
The diverse dragons in disguise.
Those with a fake smile.
The ones who offer a false style.


Every day I despise,
The diverse dragons in disguise.
Every so often they appear as,
Chilling fears or milling tears.
Off and on they appear as, 
Burying worries or worrying hurries.

Every day I despise,
The diverse dragons in disguise.
Now I have made a will,
To bring all the dragons to kill.

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{Sunday Photo Fiction – February 3, 2019}

In Search of Love

PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz

Tiny, the apple of our eyes, went missing.
Pining for a lost puppy was laughed upon. A gone pet wasn’t a reasonable excuse to overlook my work on short notice either.

After managing to get a day off work, I and my son went on to search for our pet. 
His pictures were pasted wherever possible.

Feet away from our home was a ghost forest. On hearing little cries we headed to where an old wrecked car was parked.

The front trunk was open. There laid a noble dog feeding her puppies along with Tiny. 

Mother’s love is peace.

______________________

100 words

{Friday Fictioneers}

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.

_________________

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 Fault in our Stars

three line tales, week 155: an old truck in a ghost town
Photo by Ian Parker via Unsplash

As an armed truck driver who rides ugly trucks, those vehicles breaking down occasionally at the loftier altitudes weren’t an unfamiliar experience.

When that happened at night on the cliff tops, Charlie felt solemn.

Staring up at the beautiful Milky Way, he would admire them sometimes and other times curse the fault in his stars for not allowing him to become a poet or even an incredible cook.

_________________

68 words
{Three Line Tales, Week 155}

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 exist 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.

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.

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63 words

{Three Line Tales, Week 154}

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}