#TellTaleThursday – 31st January 2019

The rules are simple:

  • Write a story, complete in itself.
  • Check spelling, grammar, and punctuation.
  • Copy and paste your Story URL to the inLinkz list.
  • The story should be up to 250 words.
  • Add this line < #TellTaleThursday with Anshu & Priya > at the end of the post.
  • Read, comment and share – spread the love.

Here’s the prompt:

Weekly fiction writing challenge - #TellTaleThursday
Image – Pexels


Word count – 243 Words

Missing Mom

“You are 18 today, I think you are old enough to take care of what is rightfully yours?” Said grandmother placing a shoe-size cardboard box on Joe’s bed.

“What is this, mammy?” Joe asked all curious.

“Some old pictures,” she replied with a flick of her hand as if it was unimportant.

“Does it have mom in it?” There was excitement in his voice.

“Sure. That gold digger who left your father and abandoned her 4-year old when the going became tough,” she gave a snort of disgust.

Joe opened the box. He had never seen his mother before, didn’t remember what she looked like.

He picked up some sepia tinted photos of a couple much in love. He recognized his father immediately, though he was lean and had a fuller head of hair. The woman was in her early twenties, love and happiness shining from her face. He looked closely at his mother. Thick shapely brows, doe eyes, full lips and a pert little nose, she was a timeless beauty. Then he looked at the crescent shaped scar on the side of her cheek.

“That was impossible. How could it be?” Joe shook his head in denial.

This was the same woman he had seen every day outside his school. He thought she waited for her child. Now, he knew why she always stood under the sycamore tree at the other side of the road.

It was time he confronted his mammy.

#TellTaleThursday – 17th January 2019

The rules are simple:

  • Write a story, complete in itself.
  • Check spelling, grammar, and punctuation.
  • Copy and paste your Story URL to the inLinkz list.
  • The story should be up to 250 words.
  • Add this line < #TellTaleThursday with Anshu & Priya > at the end of the post.
  • Read, comment and share – spread the love.

Here’s the prompt:

#TellTaleThursday - fiction writing and prompt based weekly writing
Image : Pexels


Word count – 198 Words

The Woman

I saw her when I was collecting milk at the door. She had recently moved in. Wearing a black djellaba and a headscarf in the same color, her whole body was covered except her eyes.

Those eyes. They were the color of the sky on a clear day and the deepest blue lake on this earth. I had never seen such striking blue in my life.

I said, ‘Hello!’

She smiled. We met just like that every morning, I while collecting milk, and her while taking the dog out for a walk. A few weeks of smiling and greeting later, I asked her out. She agreed. And started our love story.

She invited me to her place. It was cozy, clean and empty.

“Where is your stuff?”

“I am a minimalist. I like it this way.” I was impressed.

One morning, I opened the door to collect the milk. She was not there. Her dog was sitting on the doormat looking at me, pleading with her eyes. I pushed open the door to her apartment, it was as if no one had ever lived.

I looked for her everywhere. But those azure eyes were one of a kind.

#TellTaleThursday – 3rd January 2019

The rules are simple:

  • Write a story, complete in itself.
  • Check spelling, grammar, and punctuation.
  • Copy and paste your Story URL to the inLinkz list.
  • The story should be up to 250 words.
  • Add this line < #TellTaleThursday with Anshu & Priya > at the end of the post.
  • Read, comment and share – spread the love.

Hello Folks! Wish you a very Happy New Year 2019!! May you read more and write more.

This is the picture prompt for today!!

Green Cruiser Beach Bike With Yellow Flower on Basket
Picture Credit: Pexels


Word count – 245 Words

Like old times

As soon as he pushed open the crumbling wooden door and stepped into the courtyard, his eyes fell on the cycle. Throwing his backpack on the ground, he rushed to the cycle. He remembered when his father had bought him this cycle, how excited he was. It was the best day of his life. Jumping on his cycle, he had gone to the village square to meet his friends, Suri and Lallan. The cycle became their flying carpet, the three would be seen driving around the whole village on a triple ride.

Then one day, the inevitable happened. All three of them fell for the village belle. The best friends fought bitterly about who would have her. He lost. The next morning, he left the village to build his destiny.

Something clicked in his mind. Taking off his t-shirt, he dusted the cycle. The chain was rusty and the handle bar was a little askew, otherwise it looked as good as new. He walked to the lone cycle repair shop who mended the cycle within no time.

Riding on the cycle, he took a nostalgic trip down to the village square. The village looked frozen in time. He met Suri and Lallan there. The three looked at one other for a long time, unsure of what to say or do. Overcoming their awkwardness, they at last hugged each other. The three friends sat on the cycle and in a triple ride drove around the village.

 

Garage and Jobs

PHOTO PROMPT ©Douglas M. MacIlroy

Linking with Rochelle Wisoff’s Friday Fictioneers

I am dropping out of college. Paul announced with forced calmness.

Why?

Jeremy and I have a super idea for a product.

And where will you work from?

Our garage?

Steve Jobs started Apple in a garage, you know! Paul tried to convince his father.

Well, he was Jobs. And you are? Paul’s father was fighting a losing battle with his patience.

You are such a douche, dad. I could become Jobs too, what do you know?

“I know. I started in a garage, remember? And I am still there. He shook his head. History was repeating itself.

#TellTaleThursday – 13th December 2018

The rules are simple:

  • Write a story, complete in itself.
  • Check spelling, grammar, and punctuation.
  • Copy and paste your Story URL to the inLinkz list.
  • The story should be up to 250 words.
  • Add this line < #TellTaleThursday with Anshu & Priya > at the end of the post.
  • Read, comment and share – spread the love.

Today’s prompt is neither a picture nor a sentence but it is an instruction-

Hide at least one truth among lies in your story. Hide it well.

Isn’t it a fun prompt? Let’s write and then guess what is the truth.


Word count – 235 Words

Truth or Dare

#TellTaleThursday with Anshu and Priya - 13th Dec 2018
#TellTaleThursday with Anshu and Priya – 13th Dec 2018

 

The winds had a bitter crispness to it. The group of 6 was ensconced in woollen clothes, leather jackets, gloves, socks and monkey caps. The cold seemed to have settled deep inside their bones and they were huddled together around the now dying embers of the bonfire. The rescue team would reach to them only by morning. The night was long, cold and scary.

Brij suggested, “How about playing a game to take our mind off the cold.” Everyone agreed though not very enthusiastically. “Either that or count the minutes until the first rays of the sun appears.”

“Truth or dare!” Tina suggested. This time the response was warmer.

It was Ritu’s turn. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Rita replied.

“Have you ever thought of killing someone?”

“Yes!” A collective gasp rose from the group. “Who, who, Rita?” They asked.

“That’s for another round,” Rita replied calmly.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Rita replied when it was her turn again.

“I dare you to tell us how did you plan to kill that person?”

Before Rita could answer, Mitali interrupted, “Guys, I want to pee, can someone come with me?”

Rita offered and the two girls disappeared into the darkness of the night. A few minutes later, Rita came back panting and crying.

“Mitali fell down the valley,” She said out aloud. While everyone went searching for Mitali, Rita stayed back, triumph written all over her face.

The Last Laugh

PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

This post is written for Friday Fictioneers.

Kat wore the flashy amethyst pendant to her “good friend” Sarah’s tea party. Today, she would burst Sarah’s bubble that her holier-than-thou husband had a string of mistresses. Kat smiled maliciously.

“I have the exact same pendant.” The model seated beside Kat pouted. She was lovely and fashionably anaemic.

“It’s a gift from my husband,” Kate supplied.

“And my lover gifted it to me,” the model provoked.

“The colour reminds him of the English …

“lavender – delicate but heady just like me.” The model finished.

Kat, shocked, looked at Sarah. Sarah with her big innocent eyes, smiled.