Hunter

Photo prompt © Lisa Fox

 

 

“Do you see that man over there?”

“Where? Which man?”

“There…. On that red building…. You see that signboard.”

“What of him?”

“He has a gun. He is a hunter?”

“Don’t be silly, he has no gun. He seems perfectly harmless.”

“No, you don’t understand. Jinxy had told me. He knows everything. That man must be a hunter.”

“And what would he be hunting here?”

“Sky-dragons.”

“Jinxy would have told you about sky-dragons?”

“Yes, he knows everything.”

They heard a gunshot. The little boy screamed.

Father patted him lightly and pointed to a screeching car. It had a tyre burst.

*******

Word count 100

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

 

The Far End

Photo prompt © J Hardy Carroll

“Hurry! Don’t you want to see him?”

“I’m scared.” The younger brother whispered. “Is he fearsome?”

“No, he looks hideous but he is nice…. gentle….”

The little boy could feel his thumping heart.

“Why does he look hideous?’

“How do I know? But he always has a chocolate for little boys.”

They reached the far end of the cemetery. They looked around. There was no one there.

Then the little boy pointed towards a grave.

A man was lying there, his face covered by a cloth. There was chocolate in his left hand.

Elder brother screamed and ran off.

***********

Word count 99

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

 

A Slip

Photo prompt © Jen Pendergast

“What’s this? What have you been doing?” asked the mother, sounding tired and flustered.

“I was making coffee?”

“But why is the room flooded? Where is Papa?”

“He is busy…attending meetings.”

“Shantanu!” she screamed. Shantanu felt that he had been hit by a bullet. He jumped from his chair and ran. But he slipped. There was soapy water, everywhere.

“What have you been doing” he asked meekly.

“Papa, I wanted coffee,” she said, smilingly.

“But why is there water here…...everywhere?”

“I was cleaning the kettle…. it was….”

And then they noticed white, soapy water, leisurely flowing down the kitchen sink.

******

Word count 100

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

 

 

 

 

 

The Painting

                                                                 (Photo Prompt)

“That is the painting……I know the artist…. He studied in Shantiniketan and JJ School of Art…. a dear friend of my uncle….” said the boy, proudly.

“You must be joking…. it’s just trash…...” replied his friend.

“You have no idea…..it’s abstract art…..everyone can’t appreciate it.”

“What has he painted….”

The boy scratched his head. He knew he had to say something and quickly, “It’s a thick autumn forest and there is a tiger hidden in the foliage.”

“What are those words?”

“That’s the tiger talk….”

The friend looked at the boy and laughed. The boy repressed an urge to hit him.

******

 

Word count  101

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt

 

 

                                                                         

                                 

The Chair

“I think the chair is too big for him. What do you say?””

“Should we get a new chair? Brand new?”

“I don’t want him to be a soldier? No, never!”

The mother felt a twinge in her heart.  More than a year had passed and still she had not received any confirmation. The suspense was killing her, slowly but surely. Girl’s eyes were brimming with loneliness.

“Don’t be sad, mama. If you want, I will send him to army. Maybe he will find out something for us. Yes, he will.”

A tear was shining on her sunken cheek.

*********

Word count 99

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture post.

 

Zombie

The sorcerer was stunned. He had lost his handy boy. He did not regret that loss, because the boy was of no use to him.  He had never intended to teach him sorcery.

But the loss of magic stone was nothing short of a catastrophe. He owed everything to the magic stone; without that stone he was totally powerless.  

‘I will get back my magic stone and teach the boy a lesson that he would never forget,’ he said to himself, his eyes blazing in anger.

The sorcerer had a stable full of alien creatures. He thought that he could use them to find the boy.

The boy was not sitting idle. He knew that the sorcerer will do everything to get back the magic stone. But, the boy felt, he had nothing to worry; as long as he was in possession of the magic stone no harm could come to him.

‘It would be wonderful if I could prevent him from using his brain,’ thought the boy. ‘I can use this stone to turn him into a zombie.’

The boy touched the magic stone and wished, ‘Let the sorcerer become a zombie.’

The sorcerer was giving instructions to the alien creatures. He would burn them all, he said, if they came back without the boy. But then suddenly all thoughts were swept away from his brain.

He did not even recognise the boy who was standing before him. The boy was holding a yellow stone in his one hand.

******

A post for A to Z April Challenge

Today’s letter Z

 

 

 

 

Yellow Stone

The sorcerer was angry. Since morning he had been frantically searching for something. But he was not able to find what he was looking for. And that made him angrier.

The novice had a suspicion that the sorcerer was looking for the stone and that made him fearful.

“Did you enter my chamber? Did you touch anything?” the sorcerer screamed at the novice.

“No,” he mumbled. The sorcerer knew that he was lying.

“Who could have taken it? No one can dare!” he shouted and glared at the young boy.

“What……….”

“My magic stone, I can’t find it anywhere……… Oh, hell! I am undone.”

“You…. mean…. that…. yell…. yellow stone…...”

“Yellow stone!” the sorcerer screamed. “How dare you call it yellow stone? You idiot, I will kill you…...” and then it occurred to him that the novice knew about his missing magic stone. “You took it? I know you have it. Where is it?”

The novice had found that stone under the dining table when he was cleaning the floor. He wanted to learn sorcery but the sorcerer had made him his handy boy, performing petty domestic chores, from sunrise to sunset.

The stone had nothing interesting about it except the colour. It was bright yellow in colour.  

The novice had not even heard of a thing called magic stone. He cleared that stone along with the garbage.  But, as an afterthought, he pocketed the stone and, as per the instructions, burnt rest of the things.

Right hand of the novice slipped into his pocket. He touched the stone and wished he could vanish from that place.

And he vanished.

**********

A post for A to Z April Challenge

Today’s letter Y