Category: Flash Fiction

This is my entry to the flash fiction challenge What Pegman Saw inspired by any view of a given location on Google maps. The challenge is to write a story in 150 words or less.This week’s location is of Burhanpur, India. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here

To view image on Google maps, click here

Buried Alive

Words 149

 “Sister?” He whispered. “Sister, it’s me.”

A tinkle and a rustle.

A frail woman emerged from the shadows.

“Did you get any food?” She looked at him hungry eyed.

“A little.” He dug out a bundle from his robes. She fell upon it with eager hands and mouth.

“What news Brother?”

“It is done. The Begum is buried.”

“And the Emperor?”

“Grief stricken.”

“It wasn’t my fault Brother. It was her fourteenth child.”

“If only you had not run away.”

“I panicked Brother. The Emperor’s favorite begum died in my arms. He would have had me buried alive.”

“You should have taken a chance with the Emperor.”

“What do you mean?” She stilled at the bleak look in his eyes.

“We have orders to proceed to Agra.”

“For what?”

“To build a mausoleum for the begum.”

“What about me?”

“You should have taken a chance with the Emperor.”

***

Note: The above is a fictitious account based on the following historical information:- The Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan is believed to have spent a lot of time at the Shahi Qila with his favorite Begum Mumtaz Mahal. She died here giving birth to their 14^th child. Mumtaz Mahal was buried here until the Taj Mahal was constructed at Agra. Shah Jahan wanted the Taj Mahal to be built in Burhanpur but had to give up the idea because of lack of availability of white marble in this region.

Thank you for reading – comments and critiques welcome.

A Toy Story

Words 199

“I want Dolly.” Lily whined.

“She’s mine.”

“But you don’t like dolls!”

“Rubbish.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“You don’t. Mama!”

“Shut up! You’ll get us into trouble.”

“Mama!”

“What?”

“Mama, look Di isn’t giving me my doll.”

“She’s not yours Lily. She’s mine.”

“Mama, Di doesn’t even like dolls.”

“But Aunt gave Dolly to me and Lily the three bears.”

“I want Dolly.” Lily howled.

“Fine!” Mama gathered up the bears and put them away. “I will gift them to someone else. Share the doll.” She ordered before sweeping away.

“Mine!” Lily grabbed Dolly’s arm.

“Mine!” Di tugged with all her might.

Di stared at the armless doll. “Look what you did!”

“You did it!” Lily threw the arm at Di. It flew out of the window.

“Murderer!” Di shrieked. She dumped Dolly and went for Lily.

The doctor set Lily’s dislocated shoulder.

But Lily was inconsolable. “I am not a murderer Mama,” she sobbed and sobbed.

Di was downcast. She held out Dolly. “You can have her.” She had fashioned a new (albeit floppy) arm with a red sock filled with cotton wool.

 

Lily brushed the dust off the photo of the three of them. “Miss you Di.”

***

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting it.To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here

Thanks for reading -and leaving me a note 😀

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 112 (posted yesterday!) and Calvin and Hobbes

 

Son Speak

Words 99

“Where does the Moon go during the day?”

“Nowhere. It’s right up there.”

“Where?”

“There.”

“You don’t know anything!” She accused.

“I do! Look.”

“What is it?” she clutched his hand.

“Sun machine.”

“What does it do?”

“Every morning Dad cranks it up to make the Sun rise.”

“Where’s the Moon machine?”

“Don’t be a fool. Didn’t I tell you the Moon is always there? We can’t see it because the Sun is so bright.”

“Daddy’s the best.” She was impressed.

“And I know everything. Now go and get a piece of cake for me. Make some lemonade too.”

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and Sandra for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here

Thanks for reading! If you have a few minutes to spare I would appreciate if you could check out my previous Friday Fictioneers story post for which I missed the link up deadline – A Brighter Future. The future of the story is otherwise very dark 😀

Have a great weekend.

A Brighter Future

Words 99

“Ma, I want more rice.”

“Enough of dawdling. Time to study.”

“Ma…” His sister, Rita, elbowed him. He subsided.

“Go along now. It’s cold. Take my shawl and share it. Rita, remember to switch off the torch. Batteries don’t grow on trees you know?”

“Yes Ma.”

“Ramesh focus on your studies. Himesh keep an eye on him. I will be along soon.”

“It’s raining.”

“Make a dash for it.” Maya pushed them.

Maya’s dinner was soon done.

She picked up a pile of stitching.

Locking up, she joined her children at the bus shelter where they studied every night.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting it and Shaktiki for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here

Oops I seemed to have missed the deadline for the link up…

Return Gift

Words 201

 On a courtesy visit to a distant cousin, I was constrained to accept their lunch invitation. Didi was busy cooking while Jeejaji was out working.

Hot and bored, I tried to make friends with my 6-year–old niece.

“So many toys!” I remarked.

Sia didn’t look up.

“I don’t have any. Give me one?”

“Adults don’t play with toys.”

“Even as a child I didn’t have any toys.”

“Liar.” She looked up. “Even Granny had toys.”

“Well, I don’t remember. Surely you can spare me one?”

“You didn’t get me anything.”

“Sia!” Didi came bustling in.

“Let her be.”

“But…”

“Please.”

“Here have samosas.” Didi shook her head at Sia before disappearing.

Sia bent her head.

“Have one.” I offered.

Sia’s eyes flickered but she shook her head.

“Why not?”

“That is only for guests.”

“I am a relative.”

“Mother will scold me.”

“Consider it my ‘gift’ to you.”

Her face shone. “I love samosas.”

“Me too.”

Nibbling, she confided, “Mother makes samosas only for guests. And they eat up all the samosas.”

“Maybe I should come more often?”

She giggled.

“You can take this house. No! Santa. Okay the tree. Or…”

I left with the tree and a nagging conscience.

***

Written for Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less hosted by Alistair Forbes.To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here

 For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 109 and Calvin and Hobbes

 

When it is Not Time

Words 98

“Time!” The conductor called.

Passengers trickled out the roadside joint.

“Time!” He banged the bus.

Stragglers hurried.

The driver revved the engine.

“Wait! My daughter is in the washroom.”

“The mountain roads are treacherous and it’s getting dark.”

“Please wait just 5 minutes!”

“Take the next bus.”

The bus began rolling.

Protesting, the man exited with his luggage.

The bus roared away showering him with dust.

“Papa! Our bus…”

“The Royal Highnesses. Always late. My rotten kismet.” He alternately cursed them and bemoaned his fate.

Until news came – their bus had fallen into a gorge.

There were no survivors.

 ***

Note: Based on a ‘real’ incident I heard as a child.

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the irresistible challenge and Roger Bultot for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by the prompt or add your own click here.

Thanks for reading – do let me know your thoughts 🙂

 

 

 

Deja Vu

Words 174

She had been about 6 years old.

They said a war was on.

They pasted brown paper on windows.

When the siren went off, ights were switched off.

They huddled in the darkness and spoke in whispers.

She thought it was a game.

Until the day the siren went off and Father wasn’t home.

“Where is Father?”

“Switch of the lights quick. He will be home soon.”

There was darkness all around.

She peered out of the window. But she couldn’t see a thing.

Father! Come home quick. What if a bomb falls on you?

Unable to control herself, she slipped out into the deserted street.

A shadow moved.

Was it Father?

God, please let it be Father.

Her first prayer ever.

The shadow coughed – a familiar beloved cough.

Her heart leaped. Delighted, she skipped back home before he could scold her.

Father was coming. He was safe.

She stood looking out into the dark deserted street.

If she stood long enough, prayed hard enough, would Father again emerge from the shadows?

***

Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – a story in 175 words or less. Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting and Maria for the photo prompt. To read the other stories on this prompt click here

Thank you for reading, please don’t forget to let me know you were here 🙂