Thursday, 30 July 2015

The Mask

As the clock struck two, the sorcerer woke up. It had been a tiring year and he was feeling completely soulless. He looked around. He knew that no one could see him unless he chose to be visible.
He was surprised to see that no one had cared to inspect the mask.
‘Why no one is curious about that mask? Have they come to suspect that it’s a trap? But that’s not possible?’
He had made elaborate preparations. It had taken him almost a year to plan everything to the last detail. He would, finally, become master of their souls. Someone had to just touch the mask and his magic would do the rest. The magic would spread like a contagion and everyone who got afflicted would forfeit his soul.  
No one, however, could be forced to touch the mask. His teacher had been rudely adamant. He could only lay a trap and wait.
When waiting became painful he decided to persuade someone to inspect and touch the mask.  
‘Don’t you think that mask over there is the finest piece of art?’ the sorcerer tried to be as subtle as was possible.
‘Which mask? I can’t see any mask,’ the man looked at the sorcerer;  he gave the sorcerer a mysterious look and vanished.

Wednesday, 29 July 2015

                                        Photo prompt © G L MacMillan
The phone rang. He froze in fear. The bottles shuddered.
“What an idiot I was?  Why did not I refuse? I had promised to her that I would not get involved, not anymore. What will she think if she learns that I have let her down?”   
But there was no going back. The consequences would be terrifying.  
The phone would not stop ringing.
He lost his nerve. He locked himself in the room and disconnected the phone.
But it was foolish of him to think that he could evade his destiny. The bottles screamed when they opened the door, violently.
A post for Friday Fictioneerson a picture prompt.
Word count 100

Tuesday, 28 July 2015

Behind her she heard laughter, crude and demeaning. She could not control her tears that burned her eyes.
She wanted to look back but lacked the courage to do so. She cursed herself for being so naïve and trusting. How could she be so foolish as to fall for a cunning man like him?

The patient’s husband entered her chamber. She was stunned to see him. He too was taken aback. He tried to laugh. She thought, ‘he laughs like hyena.’
She smiled at his wife, “You are a lucky woman, no?”
He felt his heart sinking.
The prompt – Start the post with, Behind her she heard laughter/ screaming

Saturday, 25 July 2015


‘That is the throne of the great king Zaa,’ father said to his little boy, pointing to an elegant throne kept in a huge glass case.
The father and the son were visiting the royal museum in this unfamiliar country in central Asia.
The son looked at the throne; he seemed unconvinced.
‘Are they sure?’ asked the son.
‘Why do you say that? In this country they revere Zaa as if he was a god. Everything that he had used is held in very high esteem by these people. This is a precious throne and in fact, once in a year, they pray before it. Many have people have tried to steal it. You see that glass case; it can withstand even a nuclear bomb.’
‘But something is wrong; this can’t be the throne of that great king.’
‘You mean they are fooling everyone with a fake.’
‘I don’t know; but I am certain that Zaa could have not used that throne.’
Father felt amused; how could this little boy be so sure that it was not Zaa’s throne? 
‘You recall what the guide had said,’ asked the boy.
Father looked askance at him.
‘He had said that Zaa was a huge man, he was a giant and weighed about four  hundred pounds. Now, how can a huge man weighing that much sit on a throne as small as that one?’ the son said, pointing to the throne in the case.
‘I think…..’ the father stopped abruptly.  
A couple of local officials were talking in hushed tones; they were looking at the little boy with suspicious, angry eyes.
A post for Sunday PhotoFiction.

Friday, 24 July 2015

He was extremely polished and charming; she got swept off her feet.
She ought to have been careful; his voice was less human and more metallic. She could have very easily sensed it, if only she had not got carried away by his heart warming smile and twinkling eyes. Had she been a little discerning she would have been prepared for what was to come. His metallic voice should have surely warned her.
She was head over heels in love with him and she had been eagerly waiting for him to reciprocate her feelings and eventually propose to her. But he was always restrained in his feelings; always less than optimal.  
The wait was becoming heartbreakingly long for her. It made her desperate.  A time came when she could no longer stop herself; and, one beautiful evening, she proposed to him. She was sure that he could not say no to her.
He smiled and said in his metallic voice, ‘Don’t you think you ought to marry a human being?’
Word prompts- polished, metallic, optimal

Thursday, 23 July 2015

Another Day
It was a sad and dark morning. Walking on that road he felt lonely. He could not help thinking of the green valley that he had left behind and for ever.
“Another boring day?’ he said to no one in particular.
No one answered. Each one seemed drowned in memories; each one was oblivious of what others felt or did.
“Another painful day,” someone said.
He looked around but could not decide as to who had uttered these words. But he knew that he had chosen a wrong word ; it was to be another painful day.
As he neared the quarry he wished that it was just a dream; that soon he would wake up and the nightmare would end. 

But it was not a dream and the nightmare did not end.

Tuesday, 21 July 2015


                                                                                          Photo prompt © Sandra Crook

He had planned everything to perfection. After shooting her boyfriend he would vanish for some time before trying to win her.
As they walked, leisurely, down the street he looked at them from his hideout. He did not waver, even for a moment. He pressed the trigger; but it was she who stumbled. Even before he could realize what had happened she was dead.
He stood frozen and defeated.
Thirty years later he came back to his hideout but he was scared to look at the place where she had fallen.
Even now he was unsure of what had happened.
 A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt

Word count 100

Saturday, 11 July 2015

                                                                           Photo prompt © Stephen Baum
As they entered the tunnel they were confident that their quest was over; El Dorado was on the other side of the tunnel.
They could see light at the end of the tunnel but, somehow, they were unable to reach the other end.
In their excitement they had failed to see that the floor of the tunnel had been, all the time, moving backwards; they were on a treadmill.
Their hearts sank; they would perish and not reach the other end. Disheartened they turned back.
To their horror a glorious gilded man confronted them at the entrance of the cave.
A post for FridayFictioneers on a photo prompt.

Word count 100

Friday, 10 July 2015


“Is that  a vineyard?” asked Pipi. He had lived all his twelve years in a crowded city. It was his first trip to countryside and he found everything unfamiliar but  exciting.
“There we are growing antennas. We plan to grow a million of them,” said Tinku.  He was just about six but he was quite patronizing towards his city born cousin.
“Antennas? How? What for?” Pipi thought it must be joke.
“We want to talk to the ETs. They live on far off stars. We need lot of antennas to send messages to them,” Tinku was sure of what he was saying.
“But antennas are made in a factory,” Pipi was feeling confounded.
“We grow them here. One ET taught us how to grow antennas. Have you ever met an ET?’ Tinku asked in a supercilious tone.
“That’s why you think antennas can’t be grown in a field,” Tinku said with the authority of an expert.
Pipi looked at the vineyard thoughtfully; he was not sure if the little boy was making fun of him.
“Things are a bit complicated here,” he muttered.
“Yes,” said Tinku.  

A post for FFfAW on a photo prompt.

Wednesday, 8 July 2015


‘I have reached the waterfall; now what?’
‘But why did you go to the waterfall? I have been waiting here for half an hour and you think it’s a joke.’
‘Would I dare to joke with the person who has kidnapped my little daughter? I have the ransom money. Now don’t you oppress me and tell me where you are?’
‘I had said, and very clearly, that you would come to The Waterfront. It is the same building that was attacked by the terrorists last year. Everyone in the town knows the place. How the hell did you reach the waterfall? And which waterfall it is?’
It hit him like a lightening. 
How could he make such a mistake? He was at least a hundred miles from The Waterfront. About fifty people had got killed in last year’s attack on that building. Today his little girl would die.
‘I will come over there, I am already on my way,’ he cursed himself for making such a disastrous mistake.
‘You were supposed to have reached here half an hour back.’
He prayed that someone in the police had been listening to this conversation.
A post for Sunday PhotoFiction   

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

Three Women

She turned and looked at them.

There was something about them that disturbed her. A strange thought struck her, ‘They aren’t humans, no? They only look like humans.’

The tallest of the three was gazing at her with unblinking eyes.

‘She has read my thoughts,’ she was sure and tried to give the tallest woman a smile; she was still gazing at her.

Now the other two had also turned their unblinking eyes towards her. All three were unusually tall and appeared to be totally hairless.

Their stares were sombre, frosty and distant.

Suddenly she realized that she was alone at the pool; alone with three strange women who were perhaps not even humans.

“Are you the famous astrophysicist who was on TV yesterday? Would it be possible for you to help us?”

She thought she heard one of them say in a raspy voice.

“How can I help you?” she could not resist asking them. ‘Are they aliens, needing my help?' she asked herself.

“There’s no one here and we are new to the place. Would you mind staying here till we finish with our business?”

Taken aback, she didn’t know what to say. Compelled by nature, her eyes had an obedient look. 
 A post for MagpieTales  (on a photo prompt) and Three Word Wednesday.

Monday, 6 July 2015


                                                                                  Photo prompt © Jean L Hays

People living at the centre of the earth decided that they must explore the world beyond the centre.

A group of brave men and women left in three special purpose vehicles. The journey was harsh and demanding but they were excited; no one had dared to do what they were attempting.

Everyone was elated as they reached the outer space.

But further exploration left them shell shocked.

“I hadn’t imagined that it would be that bad out here.”

“No specie becomes intelligent overnight; in time they too will develop.”

“But we can’t plan another trip in near future.”

“I agree.”

A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.

Thursday, 2 July 2015

The Garden Party

It was to be a garden party and everything was well planned; the Mayor himself had seen to it personally.

When he had left the town thirty years back no one had imagined that one day he would be the third richest man in the country. He had never visited the town in these thirty years. There was no one who had even slightest acquaintance with him. Yet everyone was excited about his home coming; they had heard and read about him a lot.

The Mayor thought that the town must honour him for his achievements. And if he chose to stay in the town for the rest of his life it would be a matter of pride for all of them. Of course the Mayor had a hidden agenda. His political career had been stagnating; perhaps his support could propel him to higher strata.

He came in an old, cheap car with few belongings and no retinue. 

He agreed, but very reluctantly, to come for the garden party. At the party he was the one who was least conspicuous.

A Post for FFf AW on a photo prompt

Wednesday, 1 July 2015

The Angel and The Car

Rolls Royce angel
The angel had fallen in love with the car. But he knew that it was too expensive and he could not afford to buy it; not with the meager income he earned as an angel.
“Sir, would You mind if I request for a pay hike; I deserve a raise  and You know that; men down there get a raise every year and sometimes twice a year.”
“Well, if you wish you can go down there and live like a man for some time.” 
“That’s not fair.”
“But that is what it is.”
“If You can’t give me a raise then make it possible for me to ride that car, at least once.”
“I can give a better suggestion; you can ride on that car and for ever. I will put that idea in the man’s mind.”
Soon the angel was on the car; you could see him riding on the hood.