Alive

She folded each dress in a neat pile and stacked them in the wooden wardrobe. The socks 

were segregated from the handkerchiefs and put away in the drawers. Everything moved 

in clockwise precision for Lucy's morning school. 

"Did you....

"I remembered to pay the school fees on time", and a broad smile flashed on his face. 

Last time he had to pay a small penalty.

They ate their breakfast together in the kitchen slurping on maple syrup pancakes and 

laughter.

Their little cottage attracted both admiration and envy from the neighbours. Mrs. Annie 

said that their home was built on the foundation of love and each brick was cemented 

with understanding.


She winced in pain as her back stiffened . The hot water bag arrived to ease her pain. 

Her tired eyes smiled, sending a small 'Thank you' note to him silently.



"Hope Lucy's examination goes not clash with our wedding anniversary next month", as 

she stirred the spinach broth over slow fire. The knife on the chopping board came to a 

standstill as he raised his hand to wipe a solitary tear that had escaped his eye and a 

suppressed sob made his face pale. "These onions are pungent", he complained as she 

turned to look at him. His bundle of grief been been tightly held by the rope of patience 

when all pills, potions and psychiatrist treatment failed.


Four decades ago Lucy waited at the crossroad for the school-bus with the tiny silver 

prattle in her hand. Fate had other plans. The prattle lay beneath the vagrant truck tyre.


He kissed the tarnished silver rattle  in the darkness of the night.


She had not buried Lucy.

The bonfire

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

The bonfire did nothing to keep me warm. I shivered. Two decades ago, the scene was 

different. We held hands, sang songs, danced to our own tunes. Life was good.

We did not realize that we were making memories for life. For me they were not always 

pleasant.

The frozen frames were dull with passage of time but the effect was vivid. I tossed the 

photos into the bonfire as they scattered with the wind to be engulfed by the tongues of 

raging fire.

Only ashes remained as residue. Tonight I will sleep soundly. My heart is light.

              written for : Friday Fictioneers. Thanks Rochelle Wisoff.


                                       

Lantern

He cleaned the soot of the lantern glass and the cotton wick. The flame burnt brighter 

each night as the King and his concubines copulated. Vatsyayana chronicled each 

escapade between the silk sheets. Thus Kamasutra was born, the guide to “art-of-living”.

Dennis presented the book to his Valentine.

     

                                                  


                                                  

                Prompt : Write a story in exactly 48 words that includes a lantern.

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