The Cremation

As the plane neared the airport, his anguish overwhelmed him.

‘Why did I come now when she is no more? I could have come earlier; should have come earlier. But I always found an excuse to postpone the trip. It’s almost fifteen years and not even once did I.……?’

Hundreds of people came for the cremation. He could sense that they had all come because now he was a celebrity.

Everyone was eager to personally convey his condolences. It was just a pretense. But how could he fault any of them when his own love for his mother was a mere pretense?   

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A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.

Word count 102

The Illusion

They had been in the space for almost ten Sirrah years (about ten thousand years by our reckoning) and not even once had they faced a technical glitch.

But one day the unimaginable happened; the power failed. They had a backup and a series of backups to that backup. But these were insufficient to run all the systems; the journey to home was ruled out.

“Scan for some alternate source,” barked the commander of the spacecraft.

 “Commander, I see a possibility on a small planet. They call it the earth.”   

“Seems improbable, the aliens out there are too primitive.”

“Should we go and check?”

“Go ahead.”

Two weird looking persons entered the Illusion, the most elegant restaurant in the town.

“I was right; they have it. But none of them is aware of it,” whispered one.

“We would need many of them, in fact every one of them on the planet,” replied the other.

“Does it matter? They are likely to parish sooner than they expect; they have brutally ravaged the planet.”

“The commander has to take the call.”

“And we know what we would say; ‘we are being kind to these foolish creatures.’”

The power on the spacecraft was restored and it commenced its journey back to Sirrah.

The two who had come to the earth felt sorry for the aliens that had inhabited the earth.

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A post for Flash Fictionfor Aspiring Writers on a picture prompt

Word count 227

The Letter

She was stunned.

She could not believe that her husband was a murderer, that he had killed her first wife.

The letter said that his first wife was a rich widow and he had married her only to grab her wealth. She had not died of sickness, as the man claimed. He had brutally killed her.

‘It’s a lie. But then this person knows everything about my husband. Every other thing that he has written is true. So perhaps…...’

She was unnerved. But she soon regained her composure.

‘Now I can go ahead with my plan without any regret or compunction. He will get what he deserves…..it would rather be justice, no?’

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A post for Flash Fictionfor Aspiring Writers on a picture prompt

Word count 112

The First Snow

They were looking at the snow-covered tree; the old man had a wistful look and child had a curious look.

‘Grandpa, it’s just amazing, this snow. I wish I had come here earlier.’

The old man looked at the child, almost bewitched. How could the child say the same words? The child looked at his grandpa and smiled. He even smiles like her, the old man thought.

It was almost fifty years back when they had come to this place. She had never been to the mountains and the first snow had mesmerized her.

‘It’s just amazing, this snow; I wish I had come here earlier.’ She smiled; he felt an imperceptible squeeze on his hand.

The child tugged at the grandpa’s sleeve; the old man came out of his reverie. He felt sad for her; the child would have made her ecstatic.

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A post for Sunday Photo Fiction

Word count 143

Revolver

                                                                                Photo prompt © Jan Wayne Fields

‘I know you’re going to turn prickly but I have to admit I misled you.

‘There are some Bigfoots around here, that’s the rumour. We are going to search for Bigfoot.

They laughed thinking that it was one was his quintessential pranks. But it wasn't a prank.

They were dumbstruck. They ought to have known; he was a rabid adventurer.

‘Are you out of your mind? We don’t even have a toy-gun for protection.’

‘I have brought my father’s revolver.’

At that moment there was some commotion; there was something outside their tent. They all froze in fear.

A hairy hand entered the tent, it was holding a revolver.

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A post for Friday Fictioneers and Three Word Wednesday

Word count 108