#WriteBravely – Forgetfulness (90 words)

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is –

A lady in red in a labyrinth of hallways
#WriteBravely – Forgetfulness – Pic off Pexels.com


She was becoming forgetful these days. Car keys would be in the rice jar and her glasses would be in the shoes. Yesterday evening, she spent 30 minutes looking for her phone while it was in her pocket all the time.

She decided to see the doctor on the weekend.

In the night, she visited a palace with many doors and narrow hallways. She entered one room after another.

It was time to get up. She would get late for work. Time to return. But how? She had forgotten the way.

#WriteBravely – The tale of two cities (90 words)

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is – Nurture

blue door in David Street, Darya Ganj, New Delhi
Darya Ganj, Delhi – Pic off The Delhi Walla

The tale of two cities

“I would like to visit Lahore one more time before I close my eyes. I want to feel the earth and smell the air of the city that has nurtured this soul,” said the fading poet. His friends and fans nodded in empathy.

A piece of news spread like wild fire in the silence of the night. Hearts raged and blood boiled.

The next morning, he was found in a bylane of Darya Ganj – blood-less, breath-less, life-less.

His friends and fans didn’t feel remorse. One city nurtures, another one takes.


#WriteBravely – Celebrate difference (72 words)

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is –

peas in a pod
#WriteBravely – Celebrate difference

Celebrate difference

They were inseparable, like the Siamese twins, like two peas in a pod.

“Let’s marry!” Siya suggested.

“The world won’t let us live together,” replied Roma.

7 years later, they met again. Disillusioned. One ran away from an abusive marriage, the other threw out a cheating partner.

“Let’s marry!” Siya suggested.

“The world?” asked Roma.

“As if I care; let’s celebrate difference.”

They hugged each other so tight they looked fused into one.



#WriteBravely – Echo (120 words)

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is –


A broken mirror reflecting a calm person
Write Tribe Festival of Words – Pic off Pexels.com


“I am leaving,” she said. He looked at her, like a patient mother would at her errant child urging him to explain.

“I am tired of taking initiatives – I proposed to you, I fixed the date of our wedding, I chose this house… it is always ME! I can’t take the lead anymore while you wait for things to happen,” she erupted.

He didn’t understand why should that be a problem? One leads, another follows. But his face remained calm.

“Please say something – shout, cry or slap me hard, just don’t keep sitting there like a Buddha,” she pleaded.

She shook her head, picked up her bag and slammed the door hard. He felt its reverberation for a long time.

(120 words)



#WriteBravely -Holidays and marriages

I am taking part in the Write Tribe Festival of Words.

And today’s prompt is –

A couple in a kayak boat in the middle of sea
Write Tribe Festival of Words

Holidays and marriages

“I think what we really need is a holiday. We have been very stressed of late,” she urged. He nodded without looking into her eye. He couldn’t remember when they had last looked into each other’s eye.

They went to Goa, where they had a romantic honeymoon 12 years ago. They did all the right things – ate, drank and soaked up the sunshine.

They came back and filed for divorce. Holidays don’t patch up broken marriages.


Word Count – 75 words



Haunted House

“Dare you to spend the night in the haunted house.”

Dave accepted the challenge. He did not fear the old crumbling house with peeling paint and broken windows. He had spent many afternoons lying under the cherry tree in its backyard.

After dinner, Dave walked up to the house, plopped down on the dusty sofa and went off to sleep. At midnight, the grandfather clock in the living room chimed. Next, Dave heard a blood-curling scream. He jumped off the sofa and ran out of the house screaming.

Some boys were rolling on the floor laughing. Boys will be boys.

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

This post is written for Friday Fictioneers.