Albert wondered where the old bicycle would be lying now. This sketch was done by his eight-year old son, James, reproduced from the stories that he had heard from Albert. Albert had displayed it on the wall of his plush office. The picture reminded him of his roots – his father who sold ice-cream on … Continue reading Fruits of Labor
He was returning to meet his parents after 15 years. The view from the rail window scared him, as much as it did in childhood. The tales of fairies and monsters came alive, once again. He had been scared of touching the branches in autumn, fearing that they would turn into monsters, and gobble the … Continue reading In anticipation of Spring
The air outside the brothel smelt different, but she wondered why she felt uneasy. The Madam had been gracious enough to let her go, and build a life for her unborn child. Male eyes still ogled, as they tried to brush past her. Within the four walls of the enclosure, she had the freedom to … Continue reading The air smelt different
Life-purpose acquires meaning on the edge. Life takes all the trouble to build a bridge, and takes one close to deep waters. It then, lets you decide. One cannot swim ashore, nor find a boat to save dear life. The choice is all yours. One can invent equipment to measure the depth, or enjoy the … Continue reading Living on the edge
The white mare, Ballerina, had looked lost since she was brought here. She refused to mingle with the inmates of the stable, and was often caught looking at the high wall surrounding the race course. She smelt different. Ebony had long suspected, that she was in love with a cross-breed horse in the race course, … Continue reading The role that females play
Your appearance at a fixed hour every day, for several months, sure carried a message. Till then, I was not educated on reading the signals that aerial messengers carry. The knock of Death at that exact hour, brought awareness to the surface, but consciousness was fading. Inspired by the picture prompt at 3LineTales by … Continue reading The Messenger
Deeply disappointed is the romantic me When my heart goes aflutter in the depth of the sea, they kill imagination, these guys with long hair. (140 characters) Pic: mymodernmet.com For Twittering Tale #24 http://katmyrman.com/2017/04/04/twittering-tales-24/
The words were written on the wall, in blood, and had haunted Ritvick for two years. He was an actor that millions swooned over, and female fans swore love for him, in letters written in blood. He had always laughed at the silliness of it all. What they saw on screen, was not his real … Continue reading The Karma Wall
Why did they have to hang themselves with invisible ropes? Who had deactivated their wings, to prevent escape? This was a strange planet, and they hadn’t bargained for this. Do-gooders were not kindly looked at, here. They interfered with the smooth functioning of several other machinations that ruled the world. The people who tried to … Continue reading The Agnostics
The historical fortress had turned into a bustling tourist spot. Kazira loved spending the weekends there. His grandfather, Sardar Singh, had once led the warriors that guarded this fortress. The telescope-like equipment which the tourists playfully touched, was the radar that helped him spot enemy boats. Sardar Singh had once spotted a boat, floating around … Continue reading Kazira’s Grandmom
Creative Experiments and More 