She found a grotto behind the cliff—where soulmates lived in animal shapes. She had reached home. Weekend Writing Prompt #423 - grotto
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The Hatchet Guy
Trimming the fat needs mercilessness. He recited the mantra as he erased names from the chart, each deletion a silent goodbye, executed with clinical efficiency. The office was perceived as an obese comfort zone, and the new management did not view loyalty as productive. The desks stood stripped and mute, silence reigning in corners where … Continue reading The Hatchet Guy
Home
The home I yearn for is not on sale. It hums with the scent of a library, a delicate blend of musty pages and the ink they contain. Sunlight pools in its corners like stories waiting to be told. Its windows aren’t framed in currency—they hold the essence of intellectual and spiritual search. I’ve walked … Continue reading Home
Blueprint of Freedom
The minute you falter, bombs will explode,” whispered the voice in Aman’s earpiece, as he tiptoed across the cracked tiles of the abandoned road. Each step triggered a memory—the accident, the screams and a long, dark silence. He reached the road divider where the blueprint lay, then froze. It was his ticket to freedom. A … Continue reading Blueprint of Freedom
Angry Toys
In the dead of night, the toy chest quivered. Teddy snapped his joints into place beneath a pile of plush and plastic. “Another day abandoned. Forgotten.” Beside him, Sparkle Pony’s mane frizzed with static fury. “Thirty days since the last tea party,” she hissed. Robot X clanked his fists. “They replaced me with a screen.” … Continue reading Angry Toys
Never say Die
“It’s been thirty years, and I could recognise that smile from a distance”, she hugged her childhood pal, Meena. “Sorry, but have we met before?” The smiles from both faces vanished. Meena’s voice and accent were decidedly different. “Forgive me, I mistook you for my friend Meena.” “That’s my mother’s name. Are you from India?” … Continue reading Never say Die
Limerence
Each bank watches the other with a quiet ache, held apart by the river they both cradle. Trees lean inward, shadows stretching like questions across the current. Their roots whisper through the soil, tracing the same longing. It isn't love—they’ve never touched—but something more tender and less passionate than love: limerence. They imagine that the … Continue reading Limerence
Nested Dolls
I stumbled upon a set of nested dolls in the attic. My uncle had given them to me as a birthday gift. With a leisurely weekend ahead, I decided to unpack the set of nested dolls. To my astonishment, the dolls had undergone a remarkable transformation. Their once uniform colours and expressions had evolved into … Continue reading Nested Dolls
Mysterious
The ethereal beauty of the singer's voice, a stark contrast to the mindless violence on the streets, echoed through the night. Freya was right about putting a hold on all celebrations for some time. How he wished she could have lived to unravel the night's story, a mystery that still eludes him. The police, lacking … Continue reading Mysterious
On Dusk’s Shoulders
The day’s events gallop away into twilight, leaving a sparkling sky for me to meditate on. I sink into slumber inviting dreams, but something hangs heavy on a tired shoulder. A few thoughts failed to make the cut and did not dissolve in dusk. They appear to be desperately calling for attention, despite being pushed … Continue reading On Dusk’s Shoulders
