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Posts Tagged ‘short story’

He hides his soul every time he meets her but the rains are not helping today. He is sure it is the sunglasses and not the borrowed purple umbrella which is earning him the stares.

She smiles at the glimpse of the purple umbrella. She thinks, this man is behind my heart.

Just then a strong wind sweeps the umbrella away and he cannot do much. As it flies away, he catches her staring. Can she touch his soul? Can she be the reason for this funny feeling in his stomach?

He removes the sunglasses to take a better look.

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Perfect, how she abhorred that word. “Come on, let’s leave or we will miss the Ladies Special,” Leela shouted from the next room. Aparna exactly followed her visualized scenario, locked the door and joined Leela. With muscles properly trained to not miss the over-packed 12 compartment Only Ladies train, they rushed. A proper seven minute walk to the platform was interspersed with cutting the crowd and overtaking the jay walkers.  The next couple of minutes passed with every glance at the indicator clock and a sprinkling look for mischief-makers who can jostle you. And angry stares do not frighten the fairer sex. The best moments are the last seven seconds as the train halts and the constant pushing helps to take that leap in the train.

Aparna relaxed herself and sat opposite Leela. “Lucky for me, got the seat at least,” she thought adjusting her dupatta.

(to be contd…)

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They say, Brevity is the soul of wit. So they asked, Why not a story?

Sixwordstories.net wants you to keep it brief. Their inspiration, not drabble – coz that’s very drab for them. Launched by Pete Berg, it was Ernest Hemingway’s famous challenge that got his idea working.

And the story was, “For sale: baby shoes, never used.”

Baby shoes

Short, brief, concise

My try for this short and sweet style, “Booker Prize Story : Third World Apathy”

Here’s one more, “Betrayal aside, his smell haunted her.”

If you have some time, think of your own story.

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This story is a type of Drabble.

Drabble consists of only 100 words exactly. So, here’s my first one.

She whispered, ‘I miss you’

A second later he said, ‘Can I keep the phone now?’

‘Ok.. Bye,’  hastily she kept the phone.

Her heart asked, did he hear you? If he did, why such a response? Was he sleepy? Or were you too soft?

Her feelings were confused and hurt. Yes, he had to call his brother for business work. Agreed, that when she complained of him keeping the phone soon, he spoke sweetly. The charm in his voice when he said, ‘I love you’ earlier in the conversation, made her heart melt.

She prayed it was a misunderstanding.

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It is the end of June and school has started. Shiny black boots with smartly ironed trousers make a beeline to reach the class. The teacher enters and everyone introduces themselves. And, the last to speak is the new boy.

Shy, apprehensive with eyes longing to be accepted. He stammers out of fright, the class laughs. The knot in his stomach tightens further, till the teacher tells him to take his seat.

The lecture starts and all eyes are on the new boy. His set of finely sharpened pencils, a ruler, a never-before used eraser classify him as a nerd. His hand shoots up to answer the question. The teacher nods her approval.

Alone in this fight of first day – new school, he holds on his own. The bell rings and a few boys take a look out of the classroom. Their friendly noises make him wish for life to take a step back. He yearns to go back to his familiar ways at the old school. He wants to race the corridors to the place, he belonged. But, as if his feet were made of iron – they just wouldn’t move.

The lecturer has not come today and the substitute teacher is a sports lover. So, off they march to the ground. The ritual starts with the coin flip and two teams with their captains are chosen. The new boy is selected – last. The teacher declares a game of basketball and the boys get fidgety.

And, its a Basket!!

You will make it, New Boy!!

In a cricket-crazed nation, basketball is the stuff to be admired only in movies. The new boy loosens his tie and dares to make the first move. Everyone scrambles for the ball, but his bounces can’t be tackled.

Two minutes in the game and he scores the first ‘basket.’ His team goes woo-hoooo. Lots of hi-fives and smiles welcome him. The game goes on as each tries to learn to master the ball. But, the new boy seems to have a way with it. His shots are simply put, superb.

The bell rings and the teacher shuffles his feet and whistles, to go back to class. The famous boys make way for the new boy, hugging him close like old school pals. They talk as if he was there, eons ago.

The new boy is amazed, his words in his throat – he just nods at their chatter. The teacher hands him the ball to be kept back in the games room. He looks at the ball and thanks it in his heart, for being the ice-breaker.

On his way, he meets the class teacher. She smiles and says, “So the shiny boots have finally, found their way in the mud. Welcome to the world of possibilities.”

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