Tuesday, 25 August 2015

Princess Zeena looked puzzled. King Zeeza had cursed her for not being ugly.
‘Is it my fault if I am beautiful and not ugly?’ she wondered. Her luminous face reflected a tear stain. Ironically, this stain made her finally chiselled face look more bewitching.
The king had received proposals from all neighbouring kingdoms. Five princes had heard of Zeena’s beauty and every one of them was eager to marry her.
No prince was willing to take a no for an answer. They were all sons of mighty kings. They were arrogant and commanded superior armies. Every prince was prepared to wage a war to force his  proposal on King Zeeza.
Zeeza’s kingdom was small and peaceful; people were fun loving. They made the finest wines in the world that were exported to different foreign lands. The kingdom was rich but lacked military power. For centuries they had not faced an enemy.
Zeeza was worried for he knew that the threats he faced were not hollow.
His thinking was no longer lucid; the fear had clouded his reasoning and he began to curse his innocent daughter. It was feckless of him to blame the girl, for her beauty was a divine gift.
The princess was not actually a dumb girl; she was intelligent and had been a winner all along. As soon as she regained her composure she said to her father, ‘Don’t you worry, father. They will not wage a war on us. Tell them, I will marry the prince who is bravest of all. He who can defeat the others can happily wed me.’
The king was taken aback; he knew that she deserved someone better than any of the five arrogant, ill-mannered princes who were desperate to marry her. 
A post for Sunday Whirl

A story that must include---puzzled, superior, foreign, luminous, winner, hollow, feckless, stain, lucid, dumb, chiselled, wine

Monday, 24 August 2015

The Dress
When she saw her prized dress she was dumbstruck. It was an expensive thing and she had to struggle for months to buy it, cutting on every avoidable expense, day after day and week after week. But that was not all; she adored that fancy costume. She almost broke down.
She knew who the culprit was; she had known it all the while. An anger rose in her heart, slowly but surely; an anger that could burn anything that came in its way.
She looked for him in every room and there were not many rooms in that house. She found him reclining in her grandmother’s chair; he was dozing, completely unaware of what was about to befall him. 
Her anger exploded like a volcano. Terrified, he tried to plead innocence.
‘Even if you kneel before me and lick my feet I will not spare you, not this time.  This is the third dress that you have spoiled,’ she screamed at him, her eyes burning with tears.
But he was a cool, clever cat; he knew how to mollify her even when her anger was beyond her control.
He let out half a purr and looked at her with eyes that were bewitching.
‘You nasty, scoundrel,’ she shouted and caught him by the neck. 
This time the cats's charm had failed.
Word prompts- kneel, nasty, purr

Saturday, 22 August 2015


Photo prompt © C E Ayr
No one was even willing to listen to him.
In fact, everyone derided him, ‘Only your study is true? Everything else is baseless?’
“I don’t know; but my studies reveal that we don’t have much time left. It’s a ticking time bomb. ’
They laughed at him and went on with their usual chores.
Five hundred days later they realized that they had only fooled themselves. The seas had suddenly swallowed huge land masses.
The leftover portions were hit be storms and freaky weather.
In his log cabin, high up in the mountains, he could only mourn at their folly.
A post for FridayFictioneers on a photo prompt

Thursday, 20 August 2015

A Decent Ghost
‘Believe me; I can’t harm even a fly. You don’t have to get scared of me,’ he said as politely as he could while trying to hide his rotting bones in a sack cloth.
Blood froze in our veins. No doubt he looked fearsome. His very presence in the room was reason enough to generate a terrifying feeling in all of us. We were all silent like a grave. We did not dare to even breathe loudly. We looked around, innocently.
His laugh broke the silence, ‘Why are you looking around? You think you can escape your fate? No way, at least not without my help. You have yet not met my friends. They are all dreaming of a great feast. Mind you, it is not an empty threat. They are all blood-suckers and love human flesh. Not me, I am not like them. I have always wanted to be an engine of change and revolutionize my society with new ideas. I have been persuading them to forget that, in their previous life, they were human beings. But they have always disregarded me. They look at me with contempt and disdain. Appalled by their callous behaviour, I decided to go on an indefinite hunger strike. It did effect them and, for some time, they were  torn between their hatred for me and their nascent desire to change.’
His talk was so engaging that, for some time, we forgot our fear and looked at him; we all wanted to him to finish his story.
But he would not continue.
'Did you eventually succeed?” asked one of us.
‘You could have easily guessed if you had been listening to me attentively. Sometimes I think that my friends are not in the wrong; no one respects a decent ghost. You men fear only flesh eating, blood sucking ghouls,’ he sounded distraught.
We felt guilty but that did not assuage his hurt feelings.
‘I will leave you to your fate and my ghoulish friends,’ thus saying the ghost left the room.
A post for Sunday Whirl
A story that must include feast, laugh, generate, escape, veins, way, sack, broke, empty, ghost, engine, torn.
My post for Sunday Photo Fiction

A Stray Shot

‘What do you say? Is this a decent place? Can we choose to settle here?’
‘Do we have a better alternative? At least here they have no time to think of us.’
‘Time is one thing they have in plenty.’
‘They are busy hunting and killing one another, and they are at it for generations.  Of course we have to remain wary of stray bullets and bombs.’
‘It’s surprising that they have learnt nothing over the centuries.’
‘Perhaps it’s God’s way of punishing the depraved souls.’
‘But let us not talk about these stupid creatures for, in spite of them, we are going to have beautiful time together.’
‘Yes, our love will overcome all hardships that we have to suffer and for no fault of ours.’  
‘But why do they think that we are symbols of love and peace?’
‘Because we truly are,’ said she-dove and her love made her mate feel proud and happy.
He looked into her eyes; eyes that were brimming with love when, to his horror, a stray shot killed her.

Tuesday, 18 August 2015

Plastic Balloons

The collection of the plastic balloons was just captivating. It had become the star attraction at the carnival.
But what surprised everyone was the ‘Not for Sale’ placard that was displayed along with that fascinating collection. Children were particularly disappointed. Little kids were rather arguing with their parents. They found it difficult to resist the temptation of owning at least one of those beautiful balloons.
Many parents were willing to buy the balloons and at any price. But there was no one around with whom they could negotiate or bargain. That was mystifying; no one knew who owned the balloons. Even carnival manager was of no help. He didn’t know when and who had brought the balloons to the carnival.
‘That’s a serious security lapse,’ commented a distraught parent. His little girl had been pestering him for the aeroplane-shaped balloon.
And it turned out to be tragic security lapse. The bomb hidden in the cluster of balloons exploded when there were about twenty people close by. Few survived.
In memory of innocent people killed in the bomb blast in Bangkok yesterday.
A post for FFfAW on a picture prompt.
 My post for Magpie Tales and 3WW

Monday, 17 August 2015

Murder in the Bedroom

It was a gruesome scene. The man had been stabbed with a kitchen knife. The body bore multiple stab wounds. The blood was splattered all over the bedroom.
But what surprised the police officer was the attitude of the murdered man’s wife. She was found in her bedroom, peacefully enjoying her smoke; she had wrapped her eyes with a black herbal eye wrap. He tried to speak to her but her responses were extremely cool and calculated.  
The officer could not find even a single piece of evidence that could lead him to the killer. Needle of suspicion, of course, pointed to the wife.
‘You didn’t share his bedroom?’ the officer said in a sneering tone and tried to provoke her
‘No, never.’
Her sang-froid irritated him.
‘None of your business; you suspect that I killed him but you can’t find any evidence against me, no? I feel so sorry for you.’
‘We will catch the killer; eventually they all make a mistake and get caught.’
She smiled at him; it was an enigmatic smile and that made him angry.
A post for Magpie Tales on a photo prompt and

Three Word Wednesday –word prompts: enigmatic, gruesome, irritate.

Tell me a story

                                                                                          Photo prompt-© Madison Woods
‘Grandpa, tell me the story when moths entered your room.’
‘I have already told it.’
‘You went to sleep, halfway.’
‘We were out for dinner; my seven brothers….’
‘You had seven brothers? How old were you?’
‘I was five …’
‘I am also five.  I have no brothers, why?’
‘Ask mama; let me finish the story, when the dinner was served…’
‘Who served the dinner?
‘If you interrupt….’
‘Suddenly hundreds of moths entered the restaurant.’
‘Last time you said they entered your bedroom?’
‘Yes, I remember every word.’
‘Tell me, then.’
The child began  the story; the grandpa was soon asleep.
A post for FridayFictioneers on a photo prompt

Sunday, 9 August 2015

The Game

She was coy but demanding.
‘Sure, I’ll get it for you. I can pluck it any time you want,’ he was confidence personified.
‘You can’t even reach it.’
“Promise to be my mate and you will have it.’
‘I do.’
He smiled at his cleverness.
‘I am waiting,’ she said impatiently.
He too was waiting and he didn’t have to wait long. As the clouds covered the moon, he brought the glass bead that he had hidden in his burrow for such an eventuality.
She was amazed to hold the moon in her little squirrely hands. He had won, again.

Monday, 3 August 2015

The Attack of Aliens.

‘The aliens are about to attack,’ said Pipi, who was just six but thought that he was old enough and smart enough to reflect on and talk about such matters.
‘So what do you plan to do? You must have thought of something to avert this attack,’ asked Pipi’s father in all seriousness.
‘Well, to be sure I have not been wasting my time, I do have a plan,’ Pipi was thoughtful in his words and manner.
‘You can share your plan with me; I won’t tell anyone anything about it.’
‘We human beings can’t match their fire power; they are far ahead of us in this field. But I think I can fiddle with their UPS.’
‘UPS?’ asked the father.
‘Universal Positioning System; if their UPS starts malfunctioning they will not find their way to the Earth.’
‘How do you plan to do it?’
‘Here is my device,’ Pipi said, unwrapping a cardboard pyramid with strange symbols painted on its three sides. He had a bright smile on face.
‘How does it work?’
‘This pyramid will generate energy waves that will destroy the memory chips of their UPS. But there is a problem? ’
‘What is that?’
‘I need some one to meditate and focus on this pyramid to unleash its energy. But we have to hurry; we can’t afford to waste even a minute’
‘Why don’t you go to bed; I will meditate.’
‘But you need to be careful, the Earth’s future is at stake,’ Pipi’s eyes said everything.
‘You can rely on me, I won’t let you down.’
Pipi would not go to sleep till his father had begun the meditation.
As minutes passed, Pipi was smiling in his sleep. The father thought that it was not a bad plan; meditation was doing him some good after a long and tedious day.
A post for Three WordWednesday; word prompts- reflect, waste, tedious.

and Sunday Photo Fiction on a picture prompt.