Thursday, October 4, 2012

More Drabbles

She walked as fast as her nimble feet could carry her and halted instantly, to avoid crashing into the person in front of her and froze. Her colleagues walked past her, giving her stares as she didn't budge.
"Move," said a voice.
She continued to stare at the person in front of her, unaware of the scurrying people around her who didn't see the person she was seeing.


She stood on the ledge of the 42nd floor of the skyscraper. Instinctively, she drew a long breath. She let out a laugh of the irony of it all. And slowly, she stepped back. If she could find humour there, she wasn't done with life yet.


Her gurgling laughter as he tickled her, before rolling downhill still echoed in his ears. His jeans still had the grass stains on them. He dragged himself out of bed these days, with borrowed hope. He wondered what she would be doing that moment. Chasing her mischievous son, trying to stuff him with some food? or perhaps giving a presentation to her clients? He walked slowly toward the memorabilia wall filled with his child's photographs and wondered what she would have looked like after these two decades.

That's it for now. Hope to improve upon this. But you keep the comments flowing and do spread the word. Thanks! 


Micropoetry is here. Why not microstories? So here are a few, for starters. Do let me know how they are. (If anyone at all is reading this, that is)

This one is not exactly creative. Cliched, with the salt water thing, but here it is:

Salt water summed her up. Sweat, tears and the sea. A tragic birth that orphaned her, a life soaked in sweat. A final, befitting finale when the sea drifted away with her body.
That night, the cold gray sky sent a rain that wasn't very salty.


This one was an attempt for a Haiku Challenge. The word was 'nimble'

Nimble Samurai
strikes death

And this one was for the word "on". Pretty vague, I know. 

The "on" vacillates
so many times on her mind
that it becomes "no"