Ayub’s Recipe (A Very Short Story)

It’s bound to be utterly delicious “, he said, “cooks are from Qatar, no joke.”

I was waiting for my turn sitting in a corner with my head buried in the newspaper when this remark made me look up; he was cutting hairs of an elderly half-bald man while talking to another old guy sitting at the other end of the pew, almost on the edge, with his head tilted to the left like he was really enjoying either the talk or the wait, not that he had that much time on his plate at this age but he wouldn’t have any choice, I thought.

Ayub is talkative and it works out well for his profession as a barber. You could spend hours listening to his narratives and not get bored.

“Only thing is, that I am not invited”, he continues, “and he is”, he adds further pointing to the soda stall next to his shop.
“This is funny because I was the one who introduced them, and now they seem to be going at it without me”, he said with a scoff followed by a grin, and then a self-assuring smile which remained plastered to his face for few more minutes until he started to speak again, “Have you ever had such a relishing dish?”, asked he to the other old man sitting at the corner of the bench.

Man shook his head.

At this point Ayub picks up a different pair of scissors and steps out for a few seconds, looks here and there on the road and then stares at the hardware store across the road from his shop.

They are going too”, he said as he started trimming moustaches of the man in the chair, “You should know the recipe is pretty special and intriguing, let me tell you.”

He goes on without waiting for any response, “First chicken will be washed in detergent powder for an hour..”, I tilted my head, “..then it will be dried out and immersed in boiling kerosene.”

I was trying to find any hint of jest on his face but it looked sincere as he continued telling about the recipe.
“Once fried in kerosene, four bags of chewing-tobacco will be poured into it and then it will be mixed and mashed into keema.”
And he remarked, “Who would not want to be invited to a party where one will be served with such delicious chicken-keema!”

I continued staring at his face in awe and amusement. If he was laughing in the inside, he certainly was doing a great job hiding the expressions from showing up on his face and in his sad but twinkling eyes.

“That is what takes him through the day.. he keeps amusing himself and everyone around him”, I thought to myself.

I was interrupted by a nonchalant voice, “You’re next! Please come”, it was Ayub, smiling at me as I rose and went to sit in the chair.

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Woman On That Wood Log

Priya and Rajesh used to go to this garden almost every weekend as it was the place they first met. People often used to ask them if they have seen the ghost of the woman sitting on the wood log there, as others say. But they never witnessed anything like that. Also, they never believed in ghosts and ghostly rumours.

One evening while returning back home, Priya was hit by a car and lost her life. Rajesh isolated himself and stopped going out anywhere.

But one evening Rajesh decided to go to the garden. Tears started rolling down his eyes.

The woman on the wood log got up and began consoling Rajesh. She told him, “I have also lost my husband 4 years back. I often come here for some peace. I can feel your pain.

Rajesh felt an instant connect. Maybe it was this pain that connected their souls.

He vented out all his pain and asked her, “why you keep crying but never talk to people? Why you never react to those ghostly rumours? She smiled and said, “Because I am a ghost, not everybody can see me but only a few lonely souls with the aching heart can, who have nobody to talk to. I committed suicide because I couldn’t handle the pain of losing my love. I was all alone. Take care of yourself. Try to help someone dealing with pain and loneliness, this will heal your pain too”.

And she disappeared again.

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Stolen Dreams

The green clouds in the sky matched Owen’s environment. He had worked for over a year to bring his company to fruition, and now, when everything should have been going right, it teetered on the edge of disaster. His partner, Abigail was everything a person desired in an employee, but Abigail was not just Owen’s employee in the business, she was his partner in love. His soul mate, and now he sat here with the storm clouds gathering outside his window a soulless human being,

Abigail’s eyes were as green as the sky outside his window. They looked like a pair of sparkling emeralds whenever he stared into them. She seduced him the first time he saw her. She had auburn hair and green eyes. Her purple miniskirt draped across her five-foot-two-inch frame perfectly accenting her petite figure. His brain seemed to quit working the first time they spoke. Owen had never felt so goofy. When Abigail indicated that she was a software engineer, Owen nearly squealed in delight, but he managed to hold on to some pride in her presence. Owen decided he needed Abigail to be part of his small company. The attraction between them was apparent, so she would watch his back as they navigated the corporate client jungle together.

Owen’s teammates did not hold the same view. There was a steady stream of trusted friends into his office the day she walked in and started. Owen was thankful the company only had ten people including himself before Abigail came onboard. Every single employee objected to being left out of the hiring decision. After all, group approval was the hiring practice since the company began. Everyone had to agree to the to hire the applicant, or they moved on to the next candidate. Nine objections to Abigail walked through his door, and he argued with every dissenter. Owen should have known then that he was making a mistake, but his heart told him he was doing the right thing.

Abigail seemed to be the model employee for the first three months. The deadline for the most prominent client was quickly approaching, and everyone was working overtime to make sure they beat their milestones. Abigail always worked longer than everyone else, and some of Owen’s friends in the company had taken the time to apologize to him for being wrong about her. Owen’s pride swelled. Not only did he recruit the most beautiful woman he had ever met to go out with, but she had turned out to be the best employee in his company. Owen had found a way to make nepotism work. He was on top of the world.

Then he walked into the office early this morning. Charles had called him in. The original nine employees stood in a semi-circle with their arms crossed and their faces stern. Owen’s world slowed to a crawl. Everything had been stolen. The software that would revolutionize fuel economy was ripped from their servers. All their backups deleted. Abigail had gone to the trouble not only to degauss the servers’ drives that sat in the closet, but she had set loose a network virus and turned on every machine. Like something from “Jurrasic Park,” a meme image of her face echoed in an evil cackle throughout the workspace. The company had lost everything, and the client was due in the next day. Owen dismissed the team and told them to return tomorrow, ready to present to the client. The group exited with faces of confusion, shock, and malaise.

The dark clouds began to release their watery burdens. Hail peppered the window. Owen stared at the icy, wet projectiles slamming into the window, and watched as the city faded from view under the violence of the storm.

Abigail’s familiar voice broke through the den of the rain. “Why did you call me in?”

Owen did not turn to face her but kept watching the rainfall. “Why did you come?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m feeling a little guilty this time.” Abigail’s voice cracked a little.

Owen let a smile creep across his face. He sat upright and turned his chair her direction. “This time? Oh Abigail, and here I thought I was your first.”

Abigail twisted her lip in disgust at his innuendo.

Owen continued, “I want to know why. Why me? Why us? Why my company? We’re a small company and no threat to anyone.”

Abigail shook her head, “I can’t tell you that. My clients pay me a lot of money to remain anonymous. You’re a smart group of people; you’ll find jobs. My unnamed client would kill to have you join their team.”

Owen allowed his smile to return across his tense face. Abigail’s expression became confused. Owen said, “It’s funny you should mention kill.” Abigail’s eyes grew wide with fear. Owen reached over and opened the drawer. He slowly pulled an object out of his desk. A simple thumb drive.

“I don’t get it,” said Abigail. Owen watched her flinch in surprise as the policeman emerged from behind a cubicle wall, grabbed her wrist and slipped the first handcuff on her. “What’s going on?” demanded Abigail.

Owen waited for the policeman to finish handcuffing her. “Please give us a minute,” said Owen. The policeman took a step back. “You see, Abigail, I was hoping my friends were wrong about you, but I learned a long time ago to listen to the people you trust, and I trust my team. Still, I had to give you a chance, and you proved me wrong. This simple thumb drive is more than large enough for an offline copy of our software, and it’s safely encrypted. It’s true that you took out our servers and network, but not the security camera’s and offline servers I have hidden to monitor the office after hours. You tried to kill my company but failed.”

Abigail pulled against her handcuffs and said, “Please, Owen, it’s me. I came back because I care about you. Maybe we can work something out.”

Owen frowned and shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Corporate espionage is still a crime, and you’re going to jail. Unfortunately, there is nothing the courts can do for my stolen heart, but I will heal.” Owen nodded, and the officer pulled Abigail to the elevator. Owen looked back out at the storm. Abigail’s wails were barely audible above the tears from the sky.


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Left but Not Alone

Lewis didn’t mind being called a benedict. After all, it was true. He had enjoyed the bachelor life until Marcia came into his life. Now here he stood before two hundred mutual friends, waiting to say his vows with the only woman he had ever truly loved. Lewis’ best friend Jack stood next to him sweating. Clearly, being forty-five and fitting into a tuxedo was not easy. Jack’s neck slightly overlapped his color, and his cummerbund strained against his stomach.

Lewis leaned over to Jack and whispered, “Why didn’t you rent a tux?”

“I didn’t see the point since I own this one,” replied Jack.

“It doesn’t fit.”

Jack’s voice sounded strained, “Yes it does, it’s just a little tight.”

Lewis raised his eyebrow, and the two men had to turn away from one another as they stifled their laughter. Lewis noticed John standing by the doorway at the front of the church. He discretely waved his hand to get Lewis’ attention. Unlike Jack, John had rented his outfit and the gray tux fit over his middle-aged body like a loose-fitting glove. Lewis knew John would be prepped and ready. In many ways, John had been the best man instead of Jack. John had planned the bachelor party, and he made sure Lewis was ready and on time. Of all his friends, John was the most sensible, but it was Jack who had been with him through thick and thin. When Lewis’ world would come crashing down over the years, it was always Jack who appeared on his doorstep first to offer a helping hand and a compassionate shoulder.

John waved his hand in front of his chest again, like a moth bouncing off a flame. At the same time, Denise peaked around from the other side of the door frame. Much like John, she was Marcia’s most reliable friend and the obvious choice to coordinate their wedding. Marcia’s best friend, Sophia, resembled Jack in many ways. Although she was not always prepared for what would happen next, she had been a faithful friend to Marcia for the last three decades. Lewis felt indebted to her for introducing Marcia to him.

Lewis thought about Marcia’s ex-boyfriend Conner and what he had missed. The man had been a fool to leave her like he did. Lewis shook his head and thought, why would anyone leave her like that. To just leave a note that says I need to go. No phone numbers, no reason. A smile crept across this face. Conner’s loss was his gain.

The piano player stopped, and the shuffling of feet pulled back Lewis into the room. The piano player started the wedding march introduction, and Lewis turned to the opened doors in the back. His emotions were overwhelmed. Marcia’s thick auburn hair had been woven so that the veil and her hair appeared as one. The white wedding dress had sparse lace covering her cleavage until it formed a v at the middle of her chest. The white silk underneath the lace covered her chest and flowed down her body to the floor. Marcia’s blue eyes shone brightly and glistened as though she could cry at any moment. The large bouquet of roses she held in front of her completed the outfit.

Marcia walked alone down the aisle. She had lost her father five years earlier and told Lewis she wanted to be alone so his spirit could walk with her. Everyone was transfixed on Marcia as she made her way down the aisle. Halfway down a voice broke into the moment and all heads turned to the back. It was Conner. “Stop!” he yelled.

Marcia turned, and her bouquet dropped to her side.

“What are doing?” Conner asked.

Lewis immediately left his spot at the front of the church and joined Marcia’s side. He could see the tears streaming down Marcia’s cheeks, and he put his arm around her. “How dare you.” snarled Lewis.

Conner did not seem concerned but continued to talk. “Why are you marrying him? Didn’t you get my note?”

“That you left? Of course, I did.” burst out Marcia.

“No, the other part of the note,” said Conner. “The picture of California inside that travel magazine you liked to read.”

“I thought that was just an old magazine,” said Marcia with a tinge of regret.

“No, it was my way of telling you I had gone to California to find work. We always dreamed of moving there one day, and I left to make it happen.”

“Why are you here?” demanded Lewis, “How did you find out about our wedding.”

“Sophia sent me an invitation,” said Conner.

Marcia released herself from Lewis’ grip and spun back towards Sophia, “You did this? You knew he was in California and never told me? Why is he here? Why would you send him an invitation?”

Sophia started to weep, “I’m sorry. I just wanted him to know he was free. I love him, I’ve always loved him. I didn’t think he would come for you.”

Conner chimed back in, and Marcia spun around. “Come back with me. Come to California. I’m your true love.”

“No,” shouted Lewis

Marcia began to cry and handed Lewis her bouquet. “I’m so sorry, but I could never truly love you knowing what Conner has done for me and the love I still feel for him. I’m sorry.” Lewis watched in horror as she hiked up her wedding dress and rushed into Conner’s arms. Lewis stood there shocked, unsure of what to do.

In a moment Jack was at his side with his arm around Lewis. “Come with me, Bro,” is all Lewis heard among the commotion in the church. The two men headed to the back of the church. Marcia and Conner were nowhere to be seen. Jack directed Lewis to an empty room and shut the door.

“We’ll get through this,” said Jack.

Lewis buried his head into his friend’s shoulder and wept as the two men held one another.


Dictionary.com word of the day – benedict

The Blame Game

Sweat beaded on Hank’s forehead. He clasped his hands together. They felt clammy. He had never had sweaty palms before. Hank knew he had done nothing wrong, but he also knew that the truth made no difference. Denise’s stare seemed to cut through his soul. Her coal black eyes looked as dead as they were dark.

Lewis and George sat to his right. Their arms were crossed, their brows furrowed, and their lips were curled down in disapproval. To his left Lori and Rachel sat. Lori drummed her fingers on the boardroom table, feigning impatience. Rachel refused to look Hank in the eye.

Hank had been to these blamestorming sessions before. However, he had always been on the other side of the table. So this is what it feels like, Hank thought. Should I even try to defend myself?

“Well?” Denise’s voice was impatient.

Hank cleared his throat. His speech was deliberate, “Well, Denise, I’m not sure why I’m here.”

Lori jumped in with a condescending tone, “You’re here because somebody in your department dropped the ball. A bug in our software caused the assembly line robots to go out of control at our clients’ sites. They’re looking at several million dollars in damage, and one death. The lawsuits should be arriving on our doorstep at any moment. Is there something about that you can’t comprehend?”

“Well, yea,” said Hank. “I’m familiar with the robots suddenly getting stuck in a loop and smashing everything within their reach, but my team doesn’t work on that code.”

Lori rolled her eyes, and everyone jumped as George’s hand slapped the wooden table. All eyes looked in George’s direction, and he responded with his voice raised. “Really? That’s your excuse? Your team had to run this code to test their part of the software. Why didn’t you catch this bug during your testing?”

“Wasn’t it your team that wrote the bug?” Hank asked George.

Denise jumped in. “Hank, in case you’ve forgotten, we’re a team. Our success depends on everyone backing each other up. If you’ve forgotten that maybe it’s time you start considering other options.”

There it is, thought Hank. They’re hoping I’ll hang myself. I can’t let this happen. I have a family to support. Maybe it’s time to start pushing back on some people.

“Denise, I’ve been in my job longer than anyone else at this table, including you. I’m well aware we are a team, and you’re right, my team should have caught this bug.”

George piped in, “Good, I’m glad you see it our way.”

Hank pointed his index finger at George, and said, “One moment, I wasn’t finished. If my team had been involved, we would’ve caught this problem. I talked with my lead developer, and it turns out George’s team made some changes that were sent to the clients without first being tested by our team.”

Denise clasped her hands together and rested them under her chin. Her eyes shot over to George. Everyone else, including Hank, crossed their arms and glared at George. “Well?” asked Denise.

George stammered. Fear filled his eyes, and he absent-mindedly reached down and fiddled with his pen. The right corner of Hank’s lip curled up despite his best effort. He had saved himself and his team. Now it was George’s turn to sweat in their little blame game.

“Well yea,” George finally managed to say. “We did push a bug fix through without everyone testing it, but that code change couldn’t have caused the disaster.”

“What makes you so sure?” asked Denise.

Hank could see George’s forehead glistening under the fluorescent lights. George squirmed, sighed, and then said, “My lead developer told me it didn’t.”

Denise put her arms down and leaned in, “Does she know what did cause it?”

George looked down at the table, “Um, not yet.”

Rachel finally spoke up, “George, you do know a man was crushed by one of the robots. He had a wife and two kids and was their only source of income. How could you sit there and let Hank take the blame?”

George’s brows furrowed, “Who said it isn’t his fault? What if something else caused the failure?”

Hank knew his job was on the line. More than that, his very reputation could be destroyed if he didn’t speak back up. “George, stop trying to deflect the blame. Your team wrote the code that killed someone. We all know that. To make matters worse, you didn’t thoroughly test your bug fix, and now we could be sued out of existence. We could all lose our jobs because of a screw up that you won’t take responsibility for.”

Denise chimed in, “I think we have what we need. Everyone is dismissed, except George.” The team stood to leave, and George and Denise remained seated. The group began to exit when Denise spoke up.

“Hank.”

Hank stopped in his tracks and fear shot up his back. Maybe he wasn’t going to escape the blamestorm after all.

“Good job,” said Denise.

Hank smiled, nodded, walked out of the meeting room, and closed the door behind him.


Dictionary.com word of the day – blamestorming

Two People but One Soul

Heather stood at six feet tall. Her firm, silky legs accented the expensive black ball gown that hung over her perfectly proportioned body. Heather’s Nordic blond hair fell over her shoulders in large, natural curls. Her steel-blue eyes were both beautiful and piercing. Anyone who dared to look her way struggled to maintain eye contact. Heather was a runway model whether she was working or not.

Larry stood next to her. At five feet seven inches, he was noticeably shorter. Larry had thinning black hair and his tuxedo appeared a bit shabby, despite his best efforts to maintain some demeanor. The couple juxtaposed one another, and yet they held each other tightly as the camera flashes danced in front of their eyes. They released each other, the flashes ceased, and Heather gently smoothed out his coat as Larry tugged at the fabric that had bunched up between them. Afterward, they once more pulled each other tightly and smiled for more photographs.

Heather had come across many suitors in her life. The career of a supermodel always put beautiful women in front of rich and powerful men. In the beginning, she found it exciting. Heather would occasionally join a sponsor on his yacht for a cocktail party, or if she was seriously considering dating someone, she might join him for dinner. Over time, Heather found all the men to be of the same mindset. They were only interested in their conquest. She was just another trophy for the men to display. The rich and powerful wanted beautiful women to conquer, not to love.

Before long, the yachts, parties, and Michelin Star restaurants grew stale. Heather needed a vacation, and so she went home to see her parents and the friends that knew her when she was gangly and wore braces. Heather’s parents had invited Larry over one evening as a thank you for his hard work in their local hardware store. Nobody ever thought the couple would be attracted to each other. After all, Heather was a rarefied beauty. Even her dad would joke about the possible origins of her surprising genetics. Larry was, well, Larry.

The two had grown up together. Heather had been what people used to call a “Tom Boy.” She loved baseball, football, hunting, and fishing. She would tag along with Larry and a couple of the other boys in the neighborhood. Heather was just one of the guys, until the age where boys and girls begin to notice differences. Sure, she still was part of the “gang,” but over the years the boys became shyer as she developed.

In the end, only Larry would bother to invite her fishing. She loved their time sitting by the pond. They would talk about their dreams. Heather wanted to see the world. Larry did as well, but he was raised by a single mother who had health issues. Even back in high school, Larry knew he would never see much beyond the small town of his youth. Heather’s parents gave him a job at their hardware store after high school. Larry took college courses online when he was not helping take care of his mother or working at the store.

That fateful dinner Larry and Heather took up right where they had left off. It was as if she had never left. She shared with Larry and her parents some of the exotic places she had traveled to do fashion shows and even some photo shoots. Larry discussed working at the hardware store, his mother’s death, and where he hoped to visit one day. After the meal, the two walked a mile down the old dirt trail they used to hike as kids. They stopped at the edge of their favorite pond. Heather was so happy to be back in blue jeans, a t-shirt and tennis shoes. She could tell Larry liked the way she looked, but he never leered at her as most men would.

They reached the pond’s edge, and Heather asked, “Why haven’t you found yourself a girlfriend?”

Larry shrugged, looked her in the eye, and suddenly blushed and looked away. “I’ve never met any other girls like you. I mean, none of the other women like to fish, hunt, or get dirt under their nails. I reckon if I could find somebody like that I’d marry her in a minute.”

Heather gently lifted his eyes up to face her, and said, “Do you mean fishing, hunting, and playing in the dirt are what you find attractive about me?”

Larry shrugged and blushed again, but he did not turn away. “I mean, you’re pretty and all that, but you know, we all get old. Heck, my hair’s starting to fall out. None of us are immune to our body’s aging. I like a beautiful woman as much as the next guy, but there’s got to be more there. Somewhere down the road, we’ll get old and not look so good. ”

“If you liked what we used to do so much, why didn’t you ever ask me out?”

Larry gently removed his chin from her hand and bent over to pick up a pebble. He skipped it across the calm emerald pond and then answered. “To be honest, I always assumed you were out of my league. You’re a beautiful woman, smart, and great at fishing to boot. I’m just me.”

“So if I weren’t beautiful you would have asked me out?”

Larry looked into her eyes, and she noticed tears attempting to form around the edges of his brown eyes. “I know, it’s stupid.”

Heather pulled him close and hugged him tightly, “No, it’s beautiful.” She pushed him back, pulled him back in and surprised Larry with a kiss. She let go of his lips and said, “Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To my next fashion show. It’s in France. I’ll pay for everything. We’ll get a two bedroom suite.”

“I don’t know. I’m not used to that kind of life.”

“That’s why I want you there. Besides, you taught me how to fish. Now it’s my turn. I want to show you the parts of the world we dreamed about as kids.”

Larry sighed and then held Heather tightly in his arms.

Heather and Larry stood there before the flashes until she feared they might go blind. Heather held up her left hand and showed off the engagement ring that Larry’s grandmother once wore. An entertainment journalist stuck a microphone in front of Heather’s face. “Tell us, why Larry? ”

Heather smiled, looked into the camera and said, “Because he loves me.”


 

Kids are like that! 

Day One

She was so excited. It was a new beginning in her life, moving in to a new house. They say home is where the heart is. She felt like she was finally at home. 

Day Two

She was singing along Imagine Dragons’ Radioactive and suddenly the doorbell rang. Never used to having unexpected visitors, she secretly wished that whoever rang the doorbell would leave after ringing a couple of times. Unfortunately it did not happen. It was her neighbor with her two kids.

Small talks were exchanged and it was a so-far-so-good feeling. Then slowly the nightmare unfolded before her eyes. It was like the two hyperactive kids were off their leashes! They were up and exploring every inch of the house, rummaging through every drawer and unpacked boxes they could find. She was losing her calm and cool by the second, looking at the kids running here and there throwing things around. ‘I wanted to scream at them to leave!’ She said her husband. ‘Kids are like that!’ He was cool about it.

Day Everyday

The house was a mess everytime after the kids left and she was nowhere close to liking them. She even began wondering if her heart was that shallow to hate having kids around. ‘I will run away if this happens daily.’ She was clearly angry. ‘Kids are like that!’ Said her husband, everytime.

Day Somewhere-Close-To-Fifty

Another neighbor moved in. She shook off the thought of having more kids around because it was horrifying. But the new neighbor’s baby was just few months old. ‘Not a problem for few more years’, she was relaxed. 

The new neighbor visited one fine evening with her baby. She held the baby in her arms and slowly she realized what she was missing out in her life. Those tiny pink arms that touched her cheeks, opened up a new world for her.

The next day the hyperactive kids visited. Well, it had become a usual routine by then. But she did not throw a fit. Not anymore. Her husband raised an eyebrow at her in complete surprise.

‘Kids are like that.’ She shrugged her shoulders and walked away with a smile.

(This is a short story originally posted on Yuvi’s Buzz.) 


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Bleeding Hearts: A Short Story

Originally published on atrangizindagieksafar

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Bleeding;
Weeping silently,
As she lay on the ground dying
Revealing little
She smiled at him
As she whispered,
With an unmistakable tremor
In her frail voice,
“I have always loved only you.”
Later standing by her grave
Consequently bitter with himself
He knew she spoke the truth.

It has been 5 years since that fateful day but the each and every minute detail is still etched in his mind. “These days will pass and time will heal,” wasn’t that what everyone told him? But each and every day since then that has passed has brought up only one question, “What went so grossly wrong? How did I not believe her? I knew in my heart that we loved each other. Then?” As he turned something poked at him and he realized that is revolver was still on him. Since Celina was shot down he had never parted with it and this time he knew he wouldn’t think twice before using it. “Maybe if I would have then she would have been alive now…maybe,” it was a mistake Carl still regretted.

But the answers still eluded him. The more he thought about it all the more he hated himself. As he lounged back on his sofa his eyes darted to the wall clock on the opposite wall, “Damn! Everything I see or touch just brings back memories of her!” he thought.

“Wait a minute—”

“Is there something that I’m forgetting?” he quipped.

“Oh my God! How could I forget!! I have to be at Lucy’s place to pick her up for a dinner date!” he leapt up and rushed at full speed to shower and get ready to be there on time. He had heard that someone wise had once said, ‘It’s not proper to keep a lady waiting’.

After Celina’s death life had moved on many girls came and left…and Lucy was one of them. A sweet genteel girl, a little naïve at times but ok. Met her through common friends who took on the role of matchmakers whenever opportunity provided them to do so.

Lucy had a slender body, blonde hair, lips that were made to look full when touched up with cosmetics and eyes … Ah, they were ok not too big not too small but nothing in comparison to Celina who was filled in at all the right places and had all the right curves, auburn hair that reflected her wild nature, full voluptuous kissable lips that never needed any cosmetics and her eyes were like a magnet ‘big and expressive’ never could she hide any emotion of hers even if she tried. “Then…Then why did she suddenly become so secretive? Who was she trying to protect?” the questions started leaping again in his mind ready to create havoc. “Now don’t start again!” he chided himself.

“You know very well that there is none who could ever match up to Celina,” Carl cursed himself as he rushed, “so stop comparing and get on with your life!”. He was almost done.

“A short brief trip to the florist should do the trick,” Carl mused as he grabbed his wallet, his revolver and the car keys making his way to the door.

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This is my First attempt at writing a short story.
I would be grateful if you could please give your comments so that I can do better next time…

—–XxXxX—–

© All Rights Reserved.
©Ranjeeta Nath Ghai,  atrangizindagieksafar, 2016.

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The Daily Post 

Blood on her conscience.

                     I’ve been standing here for an hour. I can feel my hands trembling and my knees shaking. My dress is clinging to my body and my heart, I can feel it in my throat. I don’t think anybody has noticed the tiny drops on my dress. It’s too dark in here and nobody is looking at me anymore. It’s funny how one brick in an alleyway can change your life. I feel a bit light-headed now, I think I should go to the ladies room.

                     The music isn’t so loud in here. I hate going to discos, I shouldn’t have come. Why did Amber bring me here? She always wanted to meet men and sleep with them. Disgusting, I’d rather stay at home. My make-up is so smudged, I shouldn’t have cried so much. How did she always manage to provoke me? It’s not my fault that she was a slut. I should curl my hair when I go out next time, I saw a woman here with curly hair and she looked beautiful. Amber would have loved to curl my hair, too bad she’s dead. She should have known to keep her mouth shut. These stains will take forever to get out. I better leave now, it’s almost 8p.m and I need to find a bus stop so that I can go home.

                       Back again in this loud crazy hell hole. Look at these depraved people. Wait! Who’s that? No, I’m just hallucinating. It can’t be her. I better get out of here soon, it’s beginning to get crowded. There she is again! Amber? How can that be? I thought I killed her….


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