I was pointing the gun towards him. At point blank range, it would have taken the shit out of anybody, but he was smiling. He freed himself from all the guilt by a simple confession of mistrust. I was feeling helpless even after having the gun. Controlling the urge to kill, I let him go.
It was love; he knew it had to be. He still remembered her sweet smile, the joy he got when she gave him a glance. He missed all those. Life seemed so desolate and weak. Finally there was only one conviction in his mind. He also jumped off from the balcony, just like she had.
He saw her in a dark outfit. It didn’t take much time or effort to fall in love. Just a glance here and there and then the phone call came out of the blue. He met her and she gave him a parting gift-beautiful. He gave nothing. He would never ever see her again!
Prison had aged him but now he was back to where he belonged- to her memories. The woods –where they grew up, the chapel! The pond! – and the cursed meadow – where he had ended her misery himself. A part of him had died along with her. A part stayed back to hack her rapist into pieces.
The lipstick mark in his shirt was a stinging slap to her. She bit her lips hard to prevent a sob from escaping and left quietly with the laundry… Her calm indifference was a stinging slap to him. He had put the mark himself to evoke some response… A dead relationship of dead souls.
It was raining so hard that it felt as if a river was flowing from heaven to earth. At last it stopped.
I was reading in my bedroom when I heard sounds of cry. I rushed down to see gushes of water coming down from the window.
I woke up but the nightmare still continues.
Note: 55 Fiction is a type of micro-fiction conceived by Steve Moss of New Times. To know more about it click here.
Author – Anonymous
“Are you Superman?”, asked she.
“Why?”
“You seem to be everywhere incredibly… and volatile.”
“Don’t like it?”
“Love it Prof. Abhimanyu. So, tell me about your experiments.”
“Aha! That’s a secret but they won’t bother you any more, love.”
Abhimanyu was experimentng secretly on cloning, but he’s no more… His clone killed him that morning.
She was late today. He was starting to get impatient. Though the eagerness was palpable, none of it was visible in the casual shorts, his stubble and unkempt hair. Such was the uniqueness of their more
Looking at the mirror, she asked me, “How do I look?”
I looked at her.
The polka dotted skirt and the double chotis with matching ribbons.
The Mary Jane shoes and the glowing white socks.
“You look wonderful dear.”
She looked at me with flirting eyes and said,”Dhet!”
It seems she’s already a woman.
Her dark dancing eyes followed him.
Then he noticed her.
Something about her drew him towards her. more
His rheumy eyes searched her out among the morning crowd . She was still seated on that bench. Looking ethereal. Ageless. She looked at him and smiled shyly. A first. His heart skipped a beat.
After months of pursuit she finally acknowledged him today.
Life was beautiful.
For widower Mr Garg, life began at sixty again.
Mom had asked me to return soon but it was dark now. She always does. There was a killer on the prowl. I gulped and walked on. Just in the alley there was a strange policeman waiting. He beckoned at me smiling crookedly…all happened quickly. Slash! Slightly messy .I Have to dispose the razor today.
He looked utterly despicable. Long hair, torn jeans. A loafer. I ignored him and concentrated on the concert. Suddenly a stampede occurred and all hell broke loose. Somebody tore off my top. Fortunately someone else covered me and led me to safety. I wept with gratitude for my saviour. My god! It was the loafer.
He looked at it longingly. He only had five, but it cost ten. He did not want to ask anyone for the rest. Why was he so unfortunate? With a heavy heart he gave the Scorpio a last look.
Just then a little beggar went by shouting: “My lucky day. Madam gave me ten rupees!”
Bamboo Lounge