He manipulates when
he is 3 months old
honing himself each day
while his mother
retains the bliss
of his ‘innocence’.
The Child
Tag Archive | Child
Short Story Published
Hello Friends,
My short story, The Building near St. Anthony’s, has been published by CafeLit. Thank you, Gill, for the publication. Please find below the link to my short story.
Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge – David’s Photo
David’s memory was put up in the living room. After the birth of the triplets, he was moved into their dad’s study. As the children grew, he was relegated to the cupboard deep inside. He heard the kids coo, crawl, walk and then speak their first words. David wanted to see his sisters and brother play. He wished to hear his mother’s voice. No one had said his name for the past 3 years. Though he wanted it to be this way, he still felt a sense of loss. Had he survived, he would have been 5 years old.
This was written for the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. Thank you, Charli.
Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction- The Doll
It was cloudy when Macie returned home. She had been little more than a machine for the past 2 years. Her husband sighed, reaching out to take her hat and coat. All of a sudden, a fierce gust of wind shook their living room. The wind blew through his study, scattering his papers and bringing down a doll, which he had hidden from her. He did not hear the doll fall, but Macie did. She rushed over and picked it up, her eyes watering. She looked at his stunned face and sobbed for the first time in 2 years.
This story was written for the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. Thank you, Charli, for giving us the opportunity.
Dark Night
Dark night
moon and stars hidden
in her drawing note
Haiku – Learning to Fly
The ace fighter pilot
learns to fly toy aeroplanes
from his youngest son
The Stem and the Leaf
The tree pleads with the wind
For a few moments of silence
To listen to a leaf’s conversation
With the stem
About a budding flower
And the tree dreams on
With the stem
About the colour, texture and beauty
Of the arriving bud
Just the way
Parents dream
Of their unborn child
To be a Mother
Her heart thuds every time
he walks to the playground
Would he be hit by the volleyball
or the football this time?
She neither wants him to be the perpetrator
nor does she want him to be the victim
She wants him to be on top
but never over the top
And even after he fulfils her ‘wants’
She worries if things are too good
If there are no natural calamities
hidden to attack him
Innocence Lost
I saw him last year
A boy of nine
Living down the lane
Curiosity in his expression
Innocence in his eyes
Devoid of deceit and lies.
I saw him again this year
Artful in countenance
Eyes seething with belligerence
Mouthing abuse with each sentence
Alas! He has lost his naivety
Amongst the mob of his playground
He has lost his innocence
To the dark exposure of media
He has lost his trust
To the ways of the world
Now, he is an adult in a child’s body
Waiting for physical growth
To tackle the tough world.
call2read 