Parachute

FFfAW Challenge – 183rd

This week's photo prompt is provided by Michelle DeAngelis. Thank you Michelle!

Her flight took off from Mumbai for an official client meeting.  Her husband 

attended the PTM of their daughter’s school.

A few rows behind, he sat with his eyes closed; ruminating about the mess, he 

has got into. Could he entangle the knots and extricate himself?

From the window seat, the man in dark sunglasses admired the swathe of 

coconut trees and the waves lashing the sands.

Destiny would braid the three tuft to form a plait or twist their lives. Only time 

could tell.

The abandoned ‘Chelsea beach bar’ on the secluded sands in South Goa was a 

perfect rendezvous for the clandestine lovebirds or was it their misconception?

Were they being watched? Nay not a soul on the beach.

A divorce case would be filed in the Bandra Court on the grounds of infidelity.

The man in dark glasses hanging up in the air was doing his duty.

                      Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thank you Priceless Joy.



(word count : 150)

Windmills of God.

                Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers


                 

                                             Thanks Fandango for the picture prompt.

Nikhil was never enthralled by the sport of boxing. Barbaric, he termed it. However, he is 

rudely tossed in the ring without the protective gloves and his opponent is a formidable 

one.

The numerous blows that he has received has made him gather himself up albeit a 

weaker shadow. Separation from spouse perturbed him. Another blow was the demise of 

his first-born. He is relieved that his parents are not around to watch his plight. The desk 

job that kept his body and soul together is gone.

Nikhil’s tousled was the result of neglect rather than the wind churning from the 

Windmills of God.

The unfavorable roll of the dice is deciding his destiny. The vagrant turn of the wheel of 

fortune is shrinking his confidence. He has to pick up the un-tessellated pieces to 

complete a picture.

His gaze shifts to the giant windmill. I will not be a victim, he declares.

                      Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.Thank you Priceless Joy



                                         

word count: 152

Ravenous

It slithered around the rough bark climbing up. Twenty pair of black claws impeded its 

progress. However, the scaly creature defied the cacophony of cawing and clawing to 

reach the eggs cocooned in the nest on the highest branch. It was a war, a war of one 

species versus the other. Nikhil held the pink slip between his fingers and un-spooled in 

his mind, the war fought in the boardroom with his own species. The Law of the Jungle 

was very much evident in the urban concrete. He had to fight his own battles. The ravens 

were still cawing.

                                      CARROT RANCH FLASH FICTION.

Shielded

135th Challenge

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

                                                 

This week's photo prompt is provided by Elaine Farrington Johnson. Thank yoiu Elaine!

The recent carnage had left many wounded in mind and body. Some breathed their last 

even before they could remember their loved ones. The silent march of protest against 

the violence unleashed, started from a nondescript lane. All silent hands held candles 

that crackled with the wind. Their feet moved slowly with the weight of their grief of 

having lost their kith and kin.  A pall of gloom descended as the celestial beings numbed 

their shine in the darkness. Only a little innocent hand carried a placard which had the 

magic four letters hurriedly scribbled on it with hearts drawn around. The little orange 

hood manged to hide a part of his face and perhaps veiled his loss. The little boy was 

unhurt in the bloodbath as his mother pushed the child on the ground and lay over him 

shielding him, while she became the target of the insane bullets.

                         Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.Thank you Priceless Joy.

                                               

 Word Count : 150

The Night.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

133rd Challenge

This week's photo prompt is provided by Pamela S. Canepa. Thank you Pamela!

25^th March, 2017

20^th floor apartment, Mumbai

8.30 pm

The tenebrosity of the night seems to hug her like a warm blanket. The Earth Hour has 

just begun.

As her gaze wanders up, the celestial twinkles seem to cast their glow a tad brighter.

The vehicular traffic appears to crawl, holding lanterns in the trajectory of darkness.

Anita turns inside to step into her cosy home. The aromatic candles are lit, mingling its 

scent into the urn of red floating rose petals. The gastronomical wafts beckons her to the 

table. He serves her the simple yet tasty food for soul and both eat with love in their 

eyes as the two decades of their flowering partnership melt in their hearts.

The next day the maid steps in with newspaper and milk while Anita is still in the 

embrace of slumber.

The maid notices the two plates in the sink and sighs, “Poor madam is missing her 

husband. So she eats from two plates”.

                           written for  : Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

                                                  

word count  : 161

Notes : Earth Hour is a 60 minute period when all the lights are switched off voluntarily.

Read more about Earth Hour.

busy-bee

Aunt Charlotte being a very fastidious person, I am on tenterhooks about a slip.

The brownies and cookies are baked to perfection. Darjeeling tea is ready to be 

brewed. The expensive crockery is laid on the table. The curtains match with sofa 

upholstery.

How did I miss this? I station the wooden-stool and hitch my dress high to climb 

despite feeling giddy. I am busy cleaning the ceiling-fan. The landline-phone springs to 

life.

                                             

I lower myself huffing, losing my balance to fall on the phone. I just pick the receiver.

“Okay Aunt”, I mumble.

She has cancelled her visit.

            Written for  : Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction. Thanks Charli Mills.

google pic

Helpless

                                                                     PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bulltot

Her helplessness reflected in her almond eyes, urging me to aid her.

I led her towards the monstrous stone-gate. Before boarding the SUV, she turned, her 

brown pupils scanning the entire facade of the isolated moss-laden fort ruins. Her clothes 

and jewellery spoke of antiquity.

Her demeanour seemed uneasy. Her body shrivelled with fright.

At the bend of civilization, she insinuated to alight.

Her fair arms bore lash-marks.

“Raja’s sentinels punish me. They are following us”.

“How long have you been wandering here?”

“Three centuries”, words spurted behind the veil.

Her silhouette pulverized to merge into the brown Rajasthan sands.

          Written for  : Friday Fictioneers. Thanks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.


                                    

Click HERE to read all the FF stories.

 Notes :  Raja - Hindu King.

              Rajasthan- A state of India, is home to the large and inhospitable Thar desert.

              Click HERE to know more about RAJASTHAN.

Interpretations

FFfAW Challenge-Week of August 29, 2017

                          130th Challenge

                                    


         This week's photo prompt is provided by Jade M. Wong. Thank you Jade!

“The peaceful island of Mumbai was bleeding from the insane terrorists’ bullets”, an 

infuriated quinquagenarian.

“Rapacious hands continue to slaughter Mother Earth of her green canopy”, an

environmentalist’s voice booms.

Media baron wielding a microphone chides, “Voice of the Press is asphyxiating.”

“Taxes are phlebotomizing a commoner’s domestic budget”, a housewife cries hoarse.

“The Pharmaceutical industry in cahoots with the medical fraternity are haemorrhaging 

the human fabric”, yoga guru blurts.

“The arrows of infidelity pierce the romantic heart”, from a dejected lover’s gullet.

The exhibit is besieged with numerous heads, ruminating and deducing, some surmising 

but none concurring.

“Mummy refuses to buy me polo and vanilla ice-creams”, a kindergarten kid explodes 

pointing to the white structure with a hole in between.

The opinionated heads erase their creased brows to loosen the tension and the museum 

resonates with laughter.

The lone Sabyasachi clad artist smiles at the various interpretations.

Discovery is not seeking new objects but in seeing the same object with new eyes, he 

concludes. His experiment is a success.

               Written for  : Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.Thanks Priceless Joy.

                            
word count : 170

Notes : Read about Mumbai terror attack

                      Polo is a peppermint with a hole in between.

                                  

                      Sabyasachi  - An Indian apparel designer. 

Almanac

THE TEACHER – FLASH FICTION WRITING #FRIDAYFOTOFICTION AUG 25-30

People came from far and wide to consult him on wide ranging matters. No pair of feet 

returned from his threshold without unburdening their worries or dilemmas.

But his own kindred stable was far from picturesque. His three off-springs never saw eye-

to-eye and their better halves followed in their foot-steps. Shankar Shastri was least 

perturbed as he adept in handling them. The fault lay not in them but in their stars and 

he was well acquainted with their oddly placed planetary configurations.

The husband and the astrologer in him was concerned and protective of his naïve wife 

after his demise.

                                               *********************

At twilight, the aged widowed matriarch lit the lamp, read her husband’s old almanac and retired 

to bed. The old lady managed to keep the domestic machinery running smoothly with 

tact and understanding.

Shankar Shastri’s clairvoyant spirit steered her through the rough weather. The almanac 

was her saviour.

   

      Written for :  flash-fiction-writing-friday foto fiction-teacher. Thanks Tina Basu.

word count : 148

fear

                               


August 17, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write about an escape artist. It can even be you, the writer, escaping into a different realm or space in imagination. It can be any genre, including BOTS (based on a true story) or fantasy. You can focus on the escape, the twist or the person who is the escape artist.

The thought of looking down erupted beads of sweat on his face and his heart raced in his 

ears. This was before he met her. 

He stood unflinching. His feet in unison took the plunge. He was tearing down with 

speed, his lungs flush with fresh air. The canopy opened just in time and his soles kissed 

the ground.

She welcomed him and he thanked her for her timely intervention.

Nikita’s extraordinary powers helped him cure of acrophobia. She invaded his brain and 

excoriated a small part of his childhood hysteria.

                  Wish the parachute never opened, his wife gnashed.

written for :  Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction . Thank you Charli Mills.

re'cycle'd memories

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017

WEEK #33

 


                                                           JulyMorgueFile file581316132183

   

She nodded and flashed her infectious smile to acquaintances and strangers alike to 

needle the thread of conviviality as she walked through the market.

Her eyes sparkled as a green bicycle leaned on the brick wall of pizza outlet.

Her caprice lead her to grab the metallic body and clambering on the vehicle, her legs 

moved as the twin wheels obeyed her. Her thoughts raced faster than her.

A voice chasing her momentum gathered speed. Her straw hat turned behind to locate 

the screaming owner of the bicycle whose fingers held a half-eaten pizza piece.

The pedals accelerated to yawn the gap between herself and the pursuer.  She winked 

and smiled mischievously at the stripling, teasing him to run faster.

His heart-beats increased rapidly with his panting strides.

She zig-zagged her speed as he tried to grab her blouse.

Her laughter became gleeful as his legs ran swiftly.

The pathway changed its countenance.

Jennifer’s body tilted as the metallic body lost balance.

“This is how I met Frederick five decades ago”, blurted the septuagenarian as she landed 

in the youthful arms of her ‘follower’. Frederick chuckled from the clouds.

A big pebble brought the chase to a standstill lay unaware.

                 Written for : Flash Fiction for the practical practitioner week # 33

Word count : 200

peace

                                

                                      

August 17, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that heals America. Difficult and idealistic, I know. Think about building bonds of trust or stories of friendship. It could be a positive story about America. Bonus points for hugging a cat.

The air reeks of disgust. 

The news on the cell-phones beep of minute-by-minute details of macabre killings. 

The thumping of the chests of the claims of responsibility of the heinous crime is obvious 

and no prize for guessing.

Old Samuel coming out of the wigwam raises his crow-feet gaze at the sky and throws his 

hands up.

Doris’s purr echoes helplessness.

“The unseen roots of the Water Hemlock planted in distant lands creep to tangle the 

hand that waters it”, sighs the silver-head wisdom.

“Any nation to be great has to plant peace in its back-yard “.

                  Satyamev Jayate. Amen.

                      Written for  : Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction .Thank you Charli Mills.

word count : 100

Satyamev Jayate - Truth alone triumphs 

Phobia

                           

                                                            PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

This was the sixth time in the last nine days that the occurrence was repeated. He had no 

definite answer to it and seemed withdrawn when questioned. The parents felt it was not 

a serious problem and he would outgrow it. Brian was good at sports and keen learner of 

alphabets and numbers.

The counsellor held Brian’s little finger and walked towards the open door.  He stopped 

midway and wetness dripped from the sides of his legs to form a pool on the floor. “The 

ugly creatures in the washroom don’t allow me to urinate”, he uttered in a trance.

            written for : Friday Fictioneers. Thanks Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

                                              


word count : 100

Parenting

   

FFfAW Challenge-Week of August 15, 2017

         
                                                       128th Challenge


                



This week's photo prompt is provided by artycaptures.wordpress.com. Thank you artycaptures!

“Fill the mug to half its capacity”, read little Nikhil from the bake-book.

“The other mug has to be washed and dried, pour all the batter into this” argued Nilesh

“Follow the instructions for best results”, cautioned Nikhil.

But the contents of the mug was already full and Nilesh’s gloved hands had pushed the 

mug into the oven.

Minutes later as the oven beeped, the result was far from satisfactory.

Nilesh tried to skulk the mess into the bin when a pair of elderly feminine legs stood 

between him and the bin.

Silence prevailed instead of a logomachy.

                                         *********************

Nikhil presided over the meeting as the CEO of the conglomerate. The applause 

resonated the entire corporate corridors.

The framed picture of the ‘batter’ed mug that their mom hung in the boys’ study 

prodded him to push his limits and succeed. Every rung of ladder climbed was attributed 

to him mother’s upbringing.

Nilesh did odd jobs to eke out a living without completing his formal education.

The identical twins were as different as chalk and cheese.

                 Written for : Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thank you Pricess Joy.

                                 


Click HERE  to read all the wonderful FFfAW entries.

word count : 175

Hurdles

FFfAW Challenge Week of August 8, 2017

127th Challenge

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

          This week's photo prompt is provided by Dorothy. Thank you Dorothy!

The flashes created a spool of memories too painful for him to speak out. The 

psychiatrist prodded him to open up gingerly taking care of his still raw wounds.

It was a quotidian affair for Aditya and his younger sibling to ride on the tandem bike 

deep into the woods. They enjoyed the verdant quiet surroundings and indulged in 

persiflage. They bonded over mundane matters as well as matters of the heart. The 

younger sibling just stepped into the threshold of teen-hood. The leaves changed colour, 

sunshine melted away and the brothers pledged to keep this bonding till the autumn of 

their lives.

The terrain was rough and so was the time. Aditya came back riding minus his sibling. His 

wails reverberated through the woods.

Would Aditya be able to swim to the shore and absolve himself from the guilt of 

helplessness of the accidental drowning of his sibling or would he torment himself for 

life? Time will the healing factor as the medical world elucidated or will Aditya learn to 

survive with the pain?

Written for  : Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thank you Priceless Joy.

                            

Click HERE to read all the wondeful FFFaw entries.

(word count : 175)