Thursday, 27 December 2018

The Everlasting

The goat looked at the grave and slowly went around it. There was something about it that fascinated him. Apprehensively, he came closer and tried to decipher the words on the stone.
To his utter shock it was his grave. Suddenly everything came back to him; the glory and the bloodshed.
He had himself chosen his burial ground. It belonged to an equally proud and vicious man. He had that man and every one of his tribe butchered.
He had to have a grave that would make his memory everlasting.
The goat looked at the dogs sniffing at the grave and moved away.
A post for Friday Fictioneers
Word count 103

Friday, 21 December 2018

The Shoes

‘What do you think, Detective?’
‘I have a witness who says that this man came here in a coach and when the coach left he committed suicide.’
‘Are you sure he was not trying to fool you?’
‘I have no reason to doubt him. See that gun in the dead man’s hand.’
‘I’m sure he was murdered.’
‘How come?’
‘Elementary! The dead man is elegantly dressed but surprisingly his feet are shoeless and spotlessly clean. He was murdered elsewhere and his body was dumped here.’
‘He fooled me….I think he was carrying a pair of shoes…it must be him….’   
‘Perhaps something precious was hidden in the shoes….’
A post for Friday Fictioneers
Word count 107

Thursday, 13 December 2018

The God of Soldiers

‘That’s the replica of Mars…..’
‘I can’t believe it……’
‘Yes, my grandpa made it for me….. He loves me so much…’
‘Does he tell you funny stories?’
‘Of course, I never miss my… my mom and dad.’
‘But he keeps shouting at you?’
‘No, no. Never!’
‘Did he love your mom?’
‘Yes, always.’
‘Why did he make this…?  Mars?’
‘He was a soldier. And Mars is the god of soldiers. He says Mars saved his life, many times.’
The boy was about to say something, but the colour faded from his tiny eyes. The grandpa was staring at him from the upper window.
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.
Word count 104

Friday, 7 December 2018

The Tunnel

‘Why do you keep pestering mama? She can’t tell you anything? You are too small to understand.’
The little boy looked at his sister. She was not smiling; that troubled him. Mama was always crying; that pained him.
‘When will papa come?’
‘I don’t know!’ she almost shrieked. Then she felt sorry for him.
‘I want to go to papa!’ he shouted back.
‘You can’t!’ she blurted, unknowingly.
‘Papa!’ he screamed.
‘Stop! He can’t come. He is gone to the other world.’
‘I will go to him….through that tunnel…. you once told me that the tunnel opened into another world……..’
The sister stood speechless.
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.
Word count 104

Monday, 3 December 2018

The King’s Minister

‘You told me that your father was very rich…..’
‘Of course, he was very rich. He was the king’s minister and in those days ministers were rich and……’
‘How come you are so poor?  Didn’t he give you any money?’
‘It’s rather complicated. He had three wives and I was the second wife’s son. The brother of his third wife was a……’
‘That’s why people don’t take many wives?’
‘Perhaps that’s one reason.’
‘I was wondering…….’
‘Yes? Kid!’
The old, haggard man looked around. Everything was dim and hazy. There was no one there….never had been…. for years.
Word Count 100
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.

Saturday, 24 November 2018

The Cascade

M could not have imagined that a silly decision of jumping the red light would devastate his life.
If he had just waited for ninety seconds for the light to turn green, he would not have witnessed the killing near The Cascade. M had seen the face of the killer; the killer too had seen him. Instinctively, M felt threatened.
It took some courage to go to the police; he had never been to a police station.   
He heard a screeching laugh. It was the killer; he was laughing and hugging a policeman.
M turned and ran to his car.  Heavy footsteps followed him.
Word count 104
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.

Sunday, 18 November 2018

The Arrogant

“This is the place…no one will know….let’s dig here and bury it.” said Taby.
Beny didn’t answer … he was busy with his boat.
“Come here…..we don’t have all the time…”
“You are a fool…why did you pelt a rock…killing the ….”
“Not another word,” shrieked Taby; he was already regretting his folly.
Beny smiled; the boat was finally afloat.
Taby furiously dug a small pit and, with trembling hand, buried the dead.
“I wish I had missed the mark.”
“You are arrogant…..always pelting rocks at little birds. This time I will tell mama……”
Next moment Beny was in the water…… screeching like hell.
Word count 106
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.

Friday, 9 November 2018

The Artwork

Grandpa, do trees feel pain?
Well, I ain’t sure…..
But I read somewhere…. heard someone say…yes, I am sure I heard someone say that plants grow faster if you play music near them.
Then they must feel something…..if they can hear….feel music.
Don’t you think this tree would have suffered? 
But it’s a dead tree.
How do we know? The roots are still inside the earth. The roots can still……
Don’t think weird thoughts. Just enjoy the beauty of the artwork. This the hundredth artwork that he has created…. marvelous, isn’t it?
The grandpa was left speechless.
Word count 100
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.   

Friday, 2 November 2018

He was not a king; just a patriarch of a large family. But everyone called him a king. He liked it.
He moved a pawn and murmured, “Never treat anyone like a pawn. Treat them like knights, bishops…..”
“Why?” the son had always felt that the king treated him like a pawn.
The king looked at a pawn that was about to turn into a queen and brooded for a long time. He was mortally scared of losing. He raised an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly. A man hidden in the shadows nodded, silently.
“You never know when a pawn would become a threat……”
Word count 103
A post for Friday Fictioneers.

Friday, 26 October 2018

Just for an idea

How do you like the place?
It’s amazing…but…
I could die ten times…..but I would not leave….
When did you….?
Don’t remember…..perhaps three…four hundred years ago….burnt …at the stake
I never believed in ghosts…all my life.
It is a big shock!
I still can’t believe it.
Hardly matters, now.......
I was certain about everything….almost dead sure. I argued …with everyone…vehemently.
I can imagine. We all were…dead sure. And we suffered…. suffer.
When will it end?
You mean…will it end?
Don’t know.
Wish I could have been less sure! It was not worth it.
Yes, it was foolish….getting burnt…. just for an idea.

Word count 103
Post for Friday Fictioneers on a picture prompt.

Thursday, 18 October 2018

The Pirate Ship
Is that a ship up there, grandpa?
My…my, I didn’t notice it. Of course it is a ship.
What’s it doing up there?
Well, I don’t know. Let’s go and check.
But if it were a pirate ship they might attack us. You once told me that story when you were on that famous ship with Columbus and the pirates…...
Hush; don’t even utter a word about that. It still frightens me to death. 
But why did they cut you up in hundred….
Stop, grandpa shrieked.
But was that story true.
As true as the plants growing on our graves…...
Word count 100

Tuesday, 16 October 2018

The Bat
“Sir, is this house haunted?” the little boy asked.
The mischievous woodcutter thought that there was something funny about the little boy. “Why do you ask?”
“My friends keep threatening that one day they will lock me in here and the ghost will turn me into a little bat.”
“But it would be a great fun, being a bat, hanging upside down.” And the woodcutter pretended being a bat, hanging upside down, making a fearful face.
But next moment he was shrieking in terror.
The little boy was hanging besides him, upside down like a bat.
And he was not pretending.
Word count 102
A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.