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.
Danny felt that he was five years old as he listened to Mr Bowman’s account of the swearing-in ceremony. Indeed, he had been five when had last seen the parliament at close quarters. His parents were poor immigrants and Danny had gone through a lot.
“Will the ministers assemble by 9 AM?” asked Danny
“Yes. And the swearing-in ceremony starts by 9:30.”
“Are we too early, Mr Bowman?” asked Danny, smiling.
“No, Mr Prime Minister, we are just on time.” said the National Security Advisor as he led the prime minister-elect inside the parliament.
The short story above was written for Alastair’s photo fiction. Alastair has interesting photos each week. So, do check them out and take part in this exciting challenge.
Sir Galahad threw the sword to sir Lancelot.
“Let me see you do it, Lancelot.” he said, coldly.
Sir Lancelot caught the sword and bowed. Then started an intense sword fight the world missed or it would have been recorded in history. Their brows furrowed in concentration as they tried to spot a weakness in their opponent.
Sir Galahad screamed all of a sudden, “Mom!”
Their mother came hurrying down the stairs. “Gally! Lance! I have told you not to touch those antique pieces. Who is hurt now?”
“He asked for it, Mom.” said Lance, defensively.
Written for Alastair’s Photo Fiction.
Dave’s wife walked away, fervently taking pictures of a parade in the vicinity. He had seen too many parades in his life. As he strolled around, his legs stopped in front of a gallery, eyes glued to the statue of a security man. It was an exact replica of a youthful Dave, even the uniform. Some passers-by looked curiously at the statue and Dave, recognising the identical features, despite his wrinkles.
Dave sat down, stunned, in front of the gallery. Was this just a coincidence? He had retired after 40 years of service with no pension and unappreciative employers. Now he felt strangely vindicated.
Written for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Pirate for the photo.
“Have you brought it?” asked Sam
“Yes.” said Dilip, taking out a pack
Sam snatched it from him and opened it. It contained soft brown powder. He knew it would taste great.
Dilip and Sam, in their early teens, always met in the lighthouse, far from their village. They were already privy to robbery and smoking. The powder was a new attraction.
They heard a cough behind them. An old man huddled in a corner.
“What is that heavenly fragrance?” he asked in a shaky voice, coughing.
“This is nothing for you, grandpa.” said Sam, hiding the powder.
“Whom did you call, ‘grandpa?’”, asked the man, rising up. “Are you blind? I am just 29.” He fell down, shaking weakly and coughing again. His hands were shrunk and bruised.
The two boys stared at him.
“Give it to me. I have been using these for the past 15 years.”
The boys looked at each other and slowly edged away. The powder lay alone behind them. They would never touch it again.
This was written for Ermilia’s Picture it & Write.
Jase rowed slowly; his eyes filled with pain, thirst and hunger. He laughed aloud. Out of desperation, he had drunk the seawater a few minutes ago. He could see a whale eying him from a distance. No, it was just a dolphin, which held something in its mouth. A box! Jase reached out and grasped the box, almost dropping it. Some patterns were engraved on the lid. He opened the lid easily. Upon glancing at the contents, Jase shaded his eyes. The box was divided into two parts. On the left side were sparkling diamonds, emeralds and other jewels. On the right side was a package. He opened the package to find a bottle of water and candies. Jase gulped the water thirstily and gorged the candies. He reached for the bottle again and noticed a paper sticking on it.
It said, ‘One side of the partition belongs to you and the other to the sea’
With renewed energy, Jase looked at the box for the last time. He took the package containing the remaining candies, closed the lid shut and threw the box into the sea.
Written for Alastair’s Photo Fiction
Copyright – Sarah Ann Hall
This short story was written for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. It is a continuation of my previous two stories. You can find Part 1 and Part 2 here.
The doctor waited in the bushes to meet Sal. Nobody knew Sal’s full name. He knew all the happenings in both the enemy camps.
“Did you give those fake pills to Mary?” Sal asked.
“Yes.” said Tony.
“We learnt that Mary’s husband wants to go back to her. He is too valuable a soldier to lose.” said Sal. He outlined their plan for a few more minutes before walking away.
Tony stood there, looking at him. He had betrayed the government and turned to the rebels for the safety of his family. But, he could not be untrue to his profession. He had given Mary the required pills to cure infection.
Mary looked at those tablets. She had made a quick decision while hurrying from Tony’s bunker. She had thrown away the pills given by him. Her heart condition, which she had kept from everybody else, was getting worse. She could not imagine the plight of her children left to the enemy’s mercy.
With both her children dead, it was her turn now. She chewed the sweet pill.
Mary walked stealthily, her legs throbbing with pain. Yet, this was the right time. She had to reach for the doctor before dawn. Her children were sleeping in the underground bunker, her youngest still very sick. They had taken to underground bunkers from the time when civil unrest plunged their country into chaos. Her husband was with the opposing ideologists. She heard that he had married someone else now and was living a life of opulence. But, she refused to deviate from her support of the overthrown government.
Mary clutched her heart as a bullet flew, narrowly missing her. It was probably her husband or one of the rebels, she thought wretchedly. She looked at the sky, fearfully. The dawn was breaking through. She hurried to the doctor’s bunker, limping.
This was written for Alastair’s Photo Fiction.
The following short story was written for Alastair’s photo fiction.
Pat and Macy sat at the dining table, looking bitterly at each other. Then Pat lowered his eyes to his plate, stuffing it with food, barely looking up. This was their last night together. Their divorce would come through the next day. Macy’s eyes brimmed with tears as she reached for the juice. Losing one child after another, all those years of petty quarrel, misunderstandings – all of them were coming to an end. Why did she feel so terrible then?
Suddenly, the power went off. Macy sighed and went inside for candles while Pat searched for his torch. Pat had just located his torch when Macy screamed. Pat panicked and ran to the living room. The lit candle had fallen to the floor, mercifully just brushing Macy’s dress.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes” she replied, shaken.
In the torchlight, he saw the woman he had met and fallen in love with fifteen years ago. He had even forgotten what his wife really looked like. As Macy blinked back tears, she realized that they were holding hands.
This short story was written for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Kent for the photo.
“Is the apartment empty?” asked Sally, crouching in a corner.
“It seems to be” said Adrian, looking around.
They were runaway lovers. Adrian’s influential family had already dispatched search parties to locate them.
“The floor is creaky” said Adrian. Sally came to stand near him.
“Ouch!”
The ground opened and they fell below with a thud. Sally groaned while Adrian tried to get up. It was a dark cellar. There were confused noises around. A group of people stood around Sally and Adrian. Some of them made faces while some laughed and a few cried. All of them were old; except for a couple.
The couple helped Sally and Adrian rise from the floor. “What place is this and who are you?” asked Adrian.
“All of us are runaway lovers who took refuge in the apartment above. Some of them have been imprisoned in this cellar for the past 40 years. There is no escape route and many of them have lost their senses. Now we are awaiting the same fate.”
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