Friday, 9 November 2018


The Artwork


Grandpa, do trees feel pain?
Well, I ain’t sure…..
But I read somewhere…. heard someone say…yes, I am sure I heard someone say that plants grow faster if you play music near them.
Perhaps…..
Then they must feel something…..if they can hear….feel music.
Perhaps……
Don’t you think this tree would have suffered? 
But it’s a dead tree.
How do we know? The roots are still inside the earth. The roots can still……
Don’t think weird thoughts. Just enjoy the beauty of the artwork. This the hundredth artwork that he has created…. marvelous, isn’t it?
Butchered…….
The grandpa was left speechless.
*****
Word count 100
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.   

Friday, 2 November 2018


Threat
He was not a king; just a patriarch of a large family. But everyone called him a king. He liked it.
He moved a pawn and murmured, “Never treat anyone like a pawn. Treat them like knights, bishops…..”
“Why?” the son had always felt that the king treated him like a pawn.
The king looked at a pawn that was about to turn into a queen and brooded for a long time. He was mortally scared of losing. He raised an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly. A man hidden in the shadows nodded, silently.
“You never know when a pawn would become a threat……”
“………”
********
Word count 103
A post for Friday Fictioneers.

Friday, 26 October 2018


Just for an idea


How do you like the place?
It’s amazing…but…
I could die ten times…..but I would not leave….
When did you….?
Don’t remember…..perhaps three…four hundred years ago….burnt …at the stake
I never believed in ghosts…all my life.
It is a big shock!
I still can’t believe it.
Hardly matters, now.......
I was certain about everything….almost dead sure. I argued …with everyone…vehemently.
I can imagine. We all were…dead sure. And we suffered…. suffer.
When will it end?
You mean…will it end?
Yes.
Don’t know.
Wish I could have been less sure! It was not worth it.
Yes, it was foolish….getting burnt…. just for an idea.
*****

Word count 103
Post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.

Thursday, 18 October 2018


The Pirate Ship
Is that a ship up there, grandpa?
My…my, I didn’t notice it. Of course it is a ship.
What’s it doing up there?
Well, I don’t know. Let’s go and check.
But if it were a pirate ship they might attack us. You once told me that story when you were on that famous ship with Columbus and the pirates…...
Hush; don’t even utter a word about that. It still frightens me to death. 
But why did they cut you up in hundred….
Stop, grandpa shrieked.
But was that story true.
As true as the plants growing on our graves…...
***********
Word count 100

Tuesday, 16 October 2018


The Bat
“Sir, is this house haunted?” the little boy asked.
The mischievous woodcutter thought that there was something funny about the little boy. “Why do you ask?”
“My friends keep threatening that one day they will lock me in here and the ghost will turn me into a little bat.”
“But it would be a great fun, being a bat, hanging upside down.” And the woodcutter pretended being a bat, hanging upside down, making a fearful face.
But next moment he was shrieking in terror.
The little boy was hanging besides him, upside down like a bat.
And he was not pretending.
********
Word count 102
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.

Tuesday, 19 September 2017

A Piece of Heart
Photo© Kelvin M Knight

‘It’s a piece of heart….’
‘You mean art……don’t you?’
He pinched his nose and gave her a bemused look.
‘No, I was wrong; it’s a map of South Africa…..yes, it’s a map.’ She didn’t respond. She was getting late for the office and her mother hadn’t turned up yet. She felt bad for the mother but she had no option; she often felt trapped.
‘It could be….an entrance of…. a cave……’
‘Please finish your breakfast; grandma is on her way. You have to lock the door and don’t open it till she comes.’
‘You were right; it’s a piece of art.’
**********
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.

Word count 101

Monday, 3 April 2017

Letter


‘Why can’t he ever call us? If he has no time to video chat he can at least make a phone call? But he would only write letters.’
He kept quiet. He knew all the answers but he did not have the courage to tell her. She was bedridden for almost three years; he could not compound her suffering.
‘It’s almost one year now that he had written a letter; no? Why don’t you go to the post office; some letter may be lying there undelivered. You know how lazy these people are.’
Somewhere out there a ship blew its horn.
**********
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.

Word count 101