Showing posts with label 55 Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 55 Fiction. Show all posts

Friday, June 13, 2014

Foul or Folly?

As the ball came in, he felt a slight nudge, and a sly idea popped into his mind.

As he went down dramatically, the whistle blew and the card rose into the air.

The men in red and white protested as he feigned pain in his ankle.

Yellow triumphed.

Master-class acting or just bad refereeing?

This is written on the disputed penalty decision by the Japanese referee in the opening game of FIFA World Cup 2014.

Photo Credits: Goal.com

Monday, June 9, 2014

Provoked

“Blow up the airport,” he proclaimed aloud as the two neighbors held hands and celebrated a new friendship.

With just 10, he created a 10 year war, again.

Amid the gunfire, he announced their neighbor’s involvement in the disaster.

“Break the friendship,” he advised his motherland.

The strengthening bond strained as he smirked to himself.

This is written in view of yesterday’s attack on Karachi. For more, click here and here.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Possessed



Slamming the book on the table he got to his feet.

“Nothing can really be possessed. It’s just told to scare kids!”

In the mirror, he saw the door slowly creaking open.

“We can possess anything,” his sister’s doll said from the doorway.

His blood turned to ice as he heard the doll’s ominous laugh.

Saturday, May 10, 2014

First Words

They lay stationary on the floor, her hand curled protectively around him.

As the door creaked open, she jumped to her feet as Anne frolicked in.

“Happy Mother’s Day Mommy,” she shouted as Richard looked on.

He gurgled and with a small pause said his first word, “Mom”.

Her cheeks moistened on the double surprise.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Sunday, March 2, 2014

A Friend Indeed

The 'Friend'
He stood silently and looked into the wilderness, his eyes searching for her.

There he was, waiting for her, and she went towards him- her friend.

As she walked towards him, dressed in yellow, he began shooting in bursts.

Following orders, she leaped and the black instrument clattered down as red flowed.

She just roared.



This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

PS: Sorry for the different pictures, I was not able to get a single one which depicted the friend and ‘her’.