The Owner

He slipped, unintentionally, and dropped the tray on the elegant but arrogant looking gentleman, unaware that he was the owner of the prestigious hotel. He was not even allowed to apologize and was kicked out.

He wiped his eyes and decided that one day he would own this place.

Twenty years later he stepped in that hotel and was utterly disappointed. There was nothing that even remotely reflected its glory of early days.  But he was not going back.

“Where can I meet the owner of this…..place?”

The haggard looking man stopped wiping the counter and said, “I am the owner.”

 

*************

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101

 

Crime Scene

She had just finished reading another book. She pondered, was it really worth the effort? Or was it just a waste of life?

She smelled the next book. No, it won’t make her a better cat.

She looked at old man and felt a deep sense of regret. None of the books had helped him. If only he had learned that sometimes it’s better to use your legs.

She climbed down, taking care not to step on the blood. She didn’t want to leave her footprints. She couldn’t resist a smile; she had read something about crime scenes in a book.

***********

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101

 

 

Moon-rover

“Yes, that’s the Moon-rover; my grandpa invented had it.”

“You must be joking.”

“I knew you won’t believe it. But it’s true, my grandpa made it. It was driven on the Moon by the astronauts,” little boy claimed, proudly. His friend seemed unsure.

“Can I climb on it?” friend asked.

“No!” little boy almost shouted.

In the evening grandpa called him, “Why were you making a fool of your friend? I heard everything.”

“He always keeps saying that his father had been to the Moon.”

“Perhaps he is telling the truth.”

“I know his father. He drives one of our school-buses.”

***********

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101

 

Shah Jahan*

He lifted his eyes to look at the magnificent building. He felt a deep pain within. He wanted to cry but somehow managed to swallow his tears and cursed himself, “Why did I come here?”

Then a horrifying thought flashed through his mind, “What if someone recognizes me? There must be people in there who had worked for me.”

“Good evening, sir.”

He shrank back. She knew him. But he couldn’t place her.
“I….I was your personal secretary,” she muttered, hesitantly.

“We miss you…. if only your son had not been……”

 He moved away. He didn’t want to hear the word.    

(*Shah Jahan was a Mughal emperor who had been imprisoned by his son in Agra fort)

*********

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 101