Set Off

                                                                                   Photo prompt © Jan Wayne Fields

The old man looked at the deep blue water and thought of his great-grandmother. Her father had failed to repay the loan that his father had taken; as a set off she was sold as an indentured labourer. After a horrifying journey she reached a farm somewhere in Africa. All her life she pined to go back to her home.

His father was rich and could have gone back. But he hated the people who had sold his grandmother.

The old man looked wistfully at the urn containing his great-grand mother’s ashes; if only she had been with him on this journey.

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A post for FridayFictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 102

Escape

She was hardly sixteen. Like all girls of her age she ought to have been living a happy, cheery and carefree life. But she was trapped and was condemned to plot an escape from the clutches of her family.

She looked at the pen; it belonged to her grandfather. The old man, she recalled, was almost in love with his pen and would not let anyone even touch it.  She was uncertain whether she could use it to deter him; perhaps a stab in the eye would hurt him.

As the door opened she felt a tremor rising deep inside her. She tried, but vainly, to give a deadpan look as he stepped in. The fear was overpowering.

She could hear her mother; she was in the kitchen. The mother was, as usual, busy cooking and muttering some inanities.

The mother stopped, but for a moment only, when she heard an ear-splitting scream. She looked towards the girl’s room.

A pen, blood dripping from its nib, rolled out of her daughter’s room.

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A post for Three Word Wednesday;  word prompt- carefree, deadpan, ear-splitting

and Sunday Photo Fiction on a photo prompt.

Word count 172

Free Ride

‘I can’t believe it? You don’t feel insulted? She rebuffed you and you are acting as if she told you a joke,’ Dan tried to provoke Pipi.

‘Perhaps she is not my type of girl.’

‘Now you are acting stupid. You need to teach her a lesson.’

‘But………’

‘No girl can dare to humiliate you and get away with it,’ he said arrogantly.

Pipi got overwhelmed by Dan’s outburst.

‘What do you suggest?’

‘You see that new car outside her house; we will take it out for a ride and leave it in New Town,’

‘That would be criminal.’

‘We aren’t stealing it.’

‘But how do we get the key?’

‘Someone blundered; the key is in the car; I saw it when we passed by it,’ Dan smiled mischievously.

They took out the car for a free ride but they could not reach New Town.

They crashed the car into a stationary truck just outside New Town.

Later in the evening Dan learnt that her sister had gone visiting a friend in her new car. She left the key in the car. The car got stolen and was found crashed in a truck near New Town.

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A post for Flash Fictionfor Aspiring Writers on a picture prompt

Word count 196

The Cremation

                                                                                       Photo prompt ©  Sandra Crook

‘Nothing seems to have changed here.’

He was coming back after thirty years. He had to reschedule a couple of meetings. At his deathbed his father had insisted that the cremation should be done when his sons were present.

‘I just can’t understand……you could have gone ahead with the cremation…..the Japanese team is here for two day only…. I would ….’ 

The driver, who was his father’s closest friend, refused to break his silence.

As they reached the home, the driver said, ‘Your father loved army; he could have risen to the general’s rank but he chose to bring up his motherless boys.’

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A post for FridayFictioneers on a picture prompt.

Word count 103

Daydreamer

It was a hot day. He was in his bed, thinking of his childhood and of his home which was near a beautiful lake. He had become addicted to daydreaming, knowing well that it was a wasteful enterprise.

Someone knocked at the door.

Reluctantly he went out. There was no one out there. But then he saw a woman carelessly walking right through his plants.  He felt cross at her. He was about to shout when he felt a bruise on his arm. He was unnerved. He could not recall when and how had he hurt his arm.

‘Lady,’ he shouted ignoring the pain.

She did not respond. She sat on the ground and began playing with a stalk of a flower.

‘Mother? Can’t be?’

His dog appeared from nowhere and began to lick the wound on his arm. Something was not in order, it was his grandpa’s dog and it had vanished after his grandpa’s death. It was friendly only with the old man. In fact the dog would even let him ride on its back, if the grandpa so wanted. He would ride from end to end of the room, one little hand held firmly by the grandpa.

‘Grandpa, is that you out there?’ he asked.

Somebody jolted him, ‘The shift starts in one hour; you should leave immediately. You don’t want to miss today’s wages.’

He looked at his wife and then at his arm; he saw the bruise and smiled wistfully.

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A post for Sunday Whirland Three Word Wednesday

Word prompts- cross, ground, plants, only, through,  right, end, lick, ride, order, stalk, lady, addicted, wasteful, bruise.

Word count 245

Departure

She had been with us for more than five years. But for last few days the grandfather was extremely angry with her.

‘Next Sunday we get rid of her,’ he thundered.

‘How would we do that?’ I had never liked her; she had always mistreated me.

‘Take her to river front and just leave her there,’

‘Can I use the car?’

‘No, she will never leave the car. Go by the public transport.’

We went by a local bus. At the river front I kept moving around aimlessly. She had become suspicious of me and stuck to me like glue.

Suddenly I jumped into a bus when it was about to leave. She tried but could not enter the bus.

Back home the grandfather was a bit disappointed when he saw me coming back, alone.

Early morning, five days later, she was found sleeping at the doorstep; she was badly bruised and tired. 

The grandfather saw her and laughed; it was a hollow laugh. He was perhaps ashamed of himself.

Three years later she vanished the day the grandfather passed away.

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A post for Flash Fictionfor Aspiring Writers on a picture prompt

Word count 181

The Witch

                                                                                   Photo prompt © Jan Marler Morrill

I was about nine. She must have been around fifty but looked much older.

Whenever kids saw her they chased her, rhythmically chanting, ‘Witch, witch.’ In anguish, she would hurl abuses on them.

I had never teased her; I rather pitied her. But I was scared of her.

I had gone to the market to buy curd. As I was returning, a dog pounced on me. I ran for my life. Suddenly I saw the old woman at the other end of the street. Terrified, I collapsed.

Two sad, affectionate eyes greeted me when I came to my senses. I was in her lap.

‘Relax, you aren’t hurt,’ she said softly.

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A post for FridayFictioneers on a photo prompt.

Word count 111

The Rain Drop

Rain drops drop  

and Sun doesn’t shine.

Rain drops drop

and clouds thunder,

trees sneeze

and leaves tremble,

monkeys shiver

and birds flutter.

Rain drops drop

and clouds wander,

children jump

and shirts are off,

books float

and school bags laugh.

Rain drops drop

and clouds open,

rays stream  

and rainbow smiles,

trees sing

and leaves shine.

  Rain drops drop

and clouds depart,

monkeys play

and birds fly,

homes call

and children sigh.

Rain does not drop

and Sun shines.

© i b arora

 A post for Sunday Photo Fiction on a picture prompt.

For this week’s post I have slightly re-worked a poem that I had published in my blog ‘poems and stories for children’

The Trick

The castle was, to their shock and surprise, totally deserted.

‘Something is wrong?’ said Raj.

‘I thought it was a historical place and many tourists came here.’

Now they weren’t inclined to explore the castle.

‘How did you dare to come here?’

The two friends were stunned when they heard these words for there was no one around. And then they saw a scarecrow leaning over the wall of the courtyard. The boys felt nervous.

‘I think I saw this scarecrow down there in the valley; how could it come up here?’ Raj whispered.

‘It is a trick,’ his friend replied.

‘You think it’s a trick but you are mistaken.’ The boys felt the scarecrow had said these words. ‘Now you are trapped in this cursed castle and only I can help you.’

The two boys lost their courage and ran for their lives.

A seedy looking man jumped over the wall and picked up the bag which one of the boys had dropped. The boy was too scared to retrieve it.

‘It always works; this fear.’  

The seedy looking man smiled at the scarecrow.

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A post for Flash Fictionfor Aspiring Writers on a picture prompt

Word count 185