Inventor

                                                                                    Photo prompt-copyright –Ted Strurz

He was four years old; three years junior to his brother. 

He fiddled with every toy papa brought for his brother. Engine would lose its wheels, aeroplane would turn wingless and jumping bear would no longer jump. Brother would get wild and often boxed his ears.

Still he could not resist the temptation of exploring the unexplored.

But when he tried to change his chopper into a wind mill that produced electricity he shocked everyone; literally.

He plugged his wind mill into a switch board and waited for someone to switch it on.

Papa intervened and averted a great invention.

******

My younger son, as a child, was fond of fiddling with everything and anything. He was always well intended but would often mess up his brother’s toys and things. The picture prompted me to recall and write those experiences.

Linked to Friday Fictioneers.

Wooden Box

It was a beautifully engraved wooden box.

The grandfather had in inherited it from his father. But he would not let anyone touch it. It was a prized possession that he would not share with anyone. Many years later I learnt that grandfather’s father was a rich man but all his wealth and valuable possessions were appropriated by his venal relatives, friends and hangers on. He was too sick to take care of anything, even his only surviving son.

The grandfather kept all his valuables and documents and his daily diary in the wooden box.

“What do you write in this diary?”

“Everything that happens; everything I do during the day.”

“Why?”

“I want your father to know everything about me and my possessions when I leave this world.”

“But why don’t you let me touch the box?”

“Well, it is for your own sake; you don’t know but there is a cursed book of magic in the box.”

“Book of magic? I would love to read it.”

“No, never. The book is cursed, anyone who even looks at it turns into a big bat.Do you want to turn into a bat?”

“That’s not possible?”

“Yes, it’s true. So, don’t ever touch the box.”

Forty years later I sold the grandfather’s house. It was in a dilapidated condition.  Everything had to be removed. I found the wooden box. It had lost its shine and beauty. It was still locked. I don’t think my father ever opened it.  

Impulsively I brought it with me. But I did not open it. I just could not open it.

*********

Linking up with BYG Adventures

Pondering word is “Box”

Abandon

“Can I come with you? Would it be proper?” she asked, almost nonchalantly, when he was about to leave.

He looked at her; he was slowly realizing that she was a puzzle which he could not unravel.

“You very well know that the invitation is for both of us; you did not want to come; you were adamant; I had told you that it would be very embarrassing for me if you were not with me, but still you declined.”

“I wanted you to insist but you did not; you chose to abandon me; you are just waiting for an opportunity but I won’t let you flirt with those….”

He left, wondering, did he ever love her or did she ever love him; outside, it was all foggy.

******

A post for Five Sentence Fiction

Word prompt- abandon

Puzzle

“Can I come with you? Would it be proper?” she asked, almost nonchalantly, when he was about to leave.

He looked at her; he was slowly realizing that she was a puzzle which he could not unravel.

“You very well know that the invitation is for both of us; you did not want to come; you were adamant; I had told you that it would be very embarrassing for me if you were not with me, but still you declined.”

“I wanted you to insist but you did not; you chose to abandon me.”

“Abandon you? How could you even say that?”

“Yes, I know. You are just waiting for an opportunity. But I won’t let you flirt with those….”

He left wondering did he ever love her or did she ever love him. 

Outside, it was all foggy.

******

A post for Two Shoes Tuesday

Word prompts-proper, puzzle

The Boat

                                                                                     Photo prompt-copyright-Georgia Koch

“Grandpa, who built this boat?”

“My grandpa. I did go fishing with him on this boat, as a child. ”

“You were a child, just like me? When?”

“Long ago.”

“Strange, I thought you were a grandpa… always.”

“No my boy, I was a child once…..and I had lot fun…. I loved this boat. But grandpa would not let me play in the boat.”

“Papa was a child too?”

“Yes, I love this boat; I wish I was a child, I would play a fisherman, I always envied them….”

“Will I be like you one day… a grandpa?”

“Yes,…this boat…”

****** 

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.

Word count 100

Withering Flower

                                                                               Photo prompt-copyright- Jan Wayne Fields

“I am at Grand Plaza….”

“Get out.... right now…” he almost shouted, knowing well that he would have to violate his oath. He began to pray that, for once, his mission should fail. But he knew that he never failed. They never failed.

“What did you say? Get out? Why?” she loved and trusted him, like a child.

He switched off the phone. 

After every success they prayed and celebrated. Even today they would pray and celebrate.

He laid the table. He loved this chore.

But today something hurt, deep inside. He looked out and saw a flower, withering.

*****

A post for Friday Fictioneers one photo prompt

Word count   99

Offer

It had an electric effect on him. Even though he was confident of getting a decent offer, he did not imagine that he would get such an unbelievable offer. He ran to the nearest phone.

When he was finally able to speak to his father he just could not find the right words. He knew that his father was passionate about his brilliant future. But even he would get a shock.

“I got an offer today,” he tried to make it as simple as possible.

“It must be good,” there was a tinge of apprehension in the voice.

“Yes,…. they are offering me two hundred thousand dollars.”

“……”

“But I would have to go to London,” he said hesitantly.

“How much is that in our currency,” father had found his words.

“About a million per month,” he said, almost meekly.

That was perhaps the amount his father would have earned thus far. He had managed to marry his two sisters, one daughter and bring him up as well. He was brilliant, no doubt, but father had to sacrifice a lot to ensure that he realized his destiny.

“I will accept it on one condition; you have to come with me to London.”

Father laughed; it was a hearty laugh.  He could not see but he could feel the tears running down the aging cheeks.

“You want to uproot us at this age in our life; no, don’t be a fool; just accept it right now and be with us for some days before you leave for London. Now I must go and tell your mother. She is the one who sacrificed the most; don’t ever forget that.”

Exactly three months later he reached London. It was the day when a group of terrorists, known for their violent and savage acts, attacked the airport killing fifty travellers who had just arrived.

A post for Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- electric, passionate, savage

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End of a beginning

                                                                                   Photo prompt- copyright-Jean L Hays

“Can’t we make a fresh beginning? We need to give ourselves another chance. Don’t you feel so?”

“But what of the bitterness and bickering that have been our constant companions?”

“I am aware and….. apprehensive.”

“How would we succeed? Why would we succeed?”

“We may not, but still I want to give ourselves a chance. Would you?”

“I really don’t know.”

He began to feel a sweet warmth in the air, “Yes, why not?”

Next moment they were two of the twenty odd hostages. It was a terror attack on the Café. 

Few survived the police action that followed.

**********

A post for Friday Fictioneers and Two Shoes Tuesday

Word count 99