Tears

                                                                               Photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

She looked at the Sun and sighed. One more day was about to end.

‘He would come today, surely. Has to?’

But she knew that she was only trying to fool herself; he would never return.

Still she was not willing to get rid of the hope that she had nurtured for last ten years.

She looked through the window. The Sun had set. She was distracted by something that was sticking to her withered hands.

She washed her hands, repeatedly; but somehow was unable to cleanse them.

That irritated her.

She looked through the window but everything appeared hazy.

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A post for FridayFictioneers on a picture prompt

Word count 100

Birthday

                                                                                       Photo prompt © CE Ayr

Only she knew what it was to be a single mother. But, against all odds, she had managed to bring up her girl. The girl had just turned sixteen and her excitement was boundless.

The blast hit them as they were stepping out of the mall.

The mother regained her consciousness and looked around. She thought everything around her was nightmarishly baffling.  

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked no one in particular.

‘Relax; everything is in order,’ she thought she heard such words.

She looked around.

‘I lost my …I think I lost my…my shoe,’ she stammered and again passed out.

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A post for Friday Fictioneers in memory of innocent victims of terror attacks.

Word count 100

Bumper Crop

                                                                                         Photo prompt © Connie Gayer

He looked at the field and his heart sank. It was again a bumper crop.

He knew that the agent would be unwilling to lift even quarter of the produce. He would have to beg and accept whatever terms the agent would offer. He would not recover even the sowing costs.

The debts would keep on mounting. It had happened with every bumper crop.

Two of his neighbours had already forfeited their lands and lives. Their deaths had left him numb.

He roamed through the denuded field, thinking of the two neighbours who had killed themselves a few days back.

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A post for Friday Fictioneers

Word count 100

That Day

                                                                                     Photo prompt © Marie Gail Stratford

The mouse looked around; everything was spic and span and at its own place. The mouse was pleased with itself; it had finally ensured that all things were as organized as it had dreamt of.

Men had for generations reveled in chaos. But the mouse knew that eventually men will fail themselves. That day it would enforce its will, brutally.

Bit by bit men had begun to depend on the mouse. Bit by bit they surrendered their will. A day came when for everything men wished to do they ‘waited’ on the mouse.

That day the mouse enforced its will.

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A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.

Provocation

She seemed to be totally unaffected by all the commotion around her. She kept working in a relaxed and sedate manner.

“Don’t be that harsh on yourself, join the party; after all how often do we win the World Cup,” someone tried to provoke her but his effort was half-hearted and pathetic. She knew that they were all deliberately fooling themselves and that, in fact, they were all very angry. But it was not a righteous anger.

It was after thirty years that the football team had a golden chance of winning the World Cup. They were hosting the tournament and they were in the final. Other team in the final was the weakest team in the tournament; it was just sheer luck and some patchy hard work that had enabled it to reach the final. The hosts were too confident of a thumping win.

The game was yet to start but everyone had begun to celebrate. The frenzy had to be seen to be believed. They had waited for many years for this intoxicating moment.

But to everyone’s shock and disbelieve the host team lost and lost miserably.  Celebrations turned into one long dirge.  

No one knew that she was fighting her own ghosts; her younger brother had been killed by riotous fans during a football tournament five years back.

She pretended to remain unaffected. But she was not aware that her sang-froid was provoking them.

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A post for Three Word Wednesday and Magpie Tales

Accident

                                                                           Photo prompt © The Reclining Gentleman

“Don’t ever drive if you are drunk, never.”

For his father driving after drinking was nothing but a cardinal sin. But he often ignored old man’s warning and, luckily, on a few occasions narrowly missed hitting unwary pedestrians. 

But one late evening his luck ran out. He hit a young biker who was thrown off his bike with terrible ferocity. He was too drunk to realize the gravity of the situation and did not even stop to look at the victim.

Later the police informed his wife that their son had been killed in a hit and run accident.

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A post for Friday Fictioneers on a photo prompt.

Word count 99

Dream?

He must have been dreaming; he was certain that he had seen her but only in his dream. It was raining and she was peeping through the window. He was sure it was her; it had to be her.

But deep within he was shivering; it could not have been a dream. He was quite awake and was enjoying a cup of exotic green tea. She had brought it when she had gone to Japan.

He had been cursing himself for being extremely rash and violent; he had not given her even a chance to explain anything. It had always been like that with him. Every time he had blundered and learnt no lessons.

He had gone back to that tragic moment a hundred times and every time he had found himself guilty of being irrational; he could not find even an iota of justification for his anger.

But now he was determined to change. But he did not know that it was already too late.

He saw her again peeping through the glass, he saw the blood dripping from the deep gash on her forehead; terrified, he could not suppress his blood-curdling scream.     

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A post for Magpie Tales on a photo prompt.