
He manipulates when
he is 3 months old
honing himself each day
while his mother
retains the bliss
of his ‘innocence’.
He manipulates when
he is 3 months old
honing himself each day
while his mother
retains the bliss
of his ‘innocence’.
All the trees in my country
have white barks that
give birth to white leaves.
Some stems have no offspring
while others have mutilated leaves.
I have a disfigured face and my
grown friend needs help dressing up.
All of us fear toy guns, water guns
and any signs of violence.
Yet I have seen videos
of your world 1000 years ago.
A beautiful world with green leaves
and healthy children.
I shudder at the anger and violence in your eyes.
We are now reaping your thirst for blood
and your experiment with nuclear war.
See for yourself.
All the trees in my country
have lifeless white barks
that mourn
the loss of humanity.
The soldier saw
reddish-orange blood pouring out
of his enemy’s chest
as he thrust his glossy sword
deep inside.
Reddish-orange, the color of the setting sun,
he thought, pointless.
For the first time, he looked into his
enemy’s face. Was he 17 or 18?
His hands numbed and bones quivered as he
imagined his youngest brother
soaked in reddish-orange blood.
Another enemy lay beside the young one,
like crushed leaves,
his dark crimson blood reminiscent
of the sky before a storm.
What is the color of my blood?
he wondered. What did he fight for?
Expansion? Race? Religion?
A vulture sat in the stench of blood,
her mouth purplish-red,
jaw dripping,
observing and waiting.
Suddenly, scared of all the red around him,
the soldier dragged himself out
of the battlefield.
His helmet and sword slipped away
in search of a better warrior.
His legs strolled where his heart led and
he stopped in front of a monastery.
He knelt with force
as the monastery bells rang,
his knees brushing
the hard rock below.
He found that his blood
was reddish-yellow
like a scattered autumn leaf.
He lifted his eyes
as the sun broke through the trees
illuminating his path to peace.
His reflection gulped at him
not long ago, he was quite slim.
The gym near his condo,
spring outside his window,
his keyboard soaked his frustrated whim.
Hello Friends,
My short story, ‘Shopping with the baby’ has been published in Page & Spine. Thank you, Nancy, for the kind words of appreciation and the publication. Please find a link to the story below.
There are two adult characters in this story. If you read this, do let me know if you have come across such characters in real life.
I am the spark of fire
born from animosity.
I do not rue my birth
but transform into
a spark of hope
as I implant myself in
every child
who crosses my path.
I will burn in them
as a light of hope
and humanity,
till they pass me to others.
I will stay alight
with faith and joy
till the end of the world.
Hi Friends,
My medieval fantasy story, ‘Closed Minds’ was recently published in the Terror House Magazine. This is my third work published in THM. Thank you, Matt, for featuring my short story. Do please click the link below to read it.
“Wait here. I will be back,” he told me as he walked inside the house, coughing. He stumbled and I heard a loud crash. I wanted to check on him, but he had asked me to wait. I heard a voice sobbing softly. People came and left, wooden-faced. That evening, I smelled lilies and heard the wail of terrifying silence. Everyone from his house came out, except him. I knew where he was kept. Should I follow him? But, he had said he would be back. I waited in the garden, amongst the daisies. He always kept his word.
This was written in response to the prompt at the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction. Write a story to the theme “a dog in the daisies.”
Peter turned off the alarm clock in haste. It was 9. In 15 minutes, he was in the living room, ready for office. However, there was no sign of breakfast. “Maisy, where is my breakfast?” She stared at him and turned away. Peter had slapped her yesterday and she was acting up. The next day was the same and so was the next. If he made extra food, meaning to save some for the night, she ate everything. Anger rose in him, but he thought of its consequences. “Maisy,” he began in a low voice, “I am extremely sorry.”
This was written for the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge.
Meghan stood at the entrance of the church looking at the white flowers which had begun to wither prematurely. Her husband, egged on by his friends, had carried her down the steps. They had been together for a month when he was called away to the sea. He described the calm and stormy waters in detail, calling the sea his mother and best friend. Although a little sad, he was highly excited when called away to the sea. “I am going home”, he had told her. Meghan adjusted her black veil as she went in to attend the service.
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Meghan smiled at the colourful flowers and wondered if he would carry her down the steps or would be too tired to do so. Her fiancé had been called to the sea after their engagement. She thought about the fierce storm and six months of fear, wondering if he would come back. However, he was never in any doubt. He had called the sea his mother and best friend. His faith had been rewarded and he returned home, cherishing life and his loved ones. Meghan adjusted her white veil and took her dad’s arm as she entered the church.
These two stories were written for the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. Thank you, Charli.