Sweet Summers

                  Arm-in-arm
                 On the sand
            Guzzling Breezers
             In a faraway land
            Sun-kissed cheeks
                 Warm to kiss
                  Hard to tell
             How much I miss.
     Your memories make my day
    Forever in my heart you'll stay.

------------------------------------

This post is a fiction-piece written for the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Seventy-Two.

The challenge is to describe summer in exactly 33 words. 

The Way Back

They knew they were lost. A few stolen kisses, away from the group, didn't seem a bad idea initially. But how far the ripples of our decisions travel is a story for another day.

Endless groping in the darkness of the forest seemed to get them nowhere for hours. She stopped by intermittently to catch her breath and let-off a silent sob. He religiously kept marking trees along the path with a sharp stone even though he could not see those markings anyway. They discussed and debated, argued and fought, cried and patched-up with kisses but remained lost. No food, little water, dead phones and a few ounces of hope was all that they had.

Hand in hand, they moved ahead with cautious steps in the dark until he suddenly slipped. In one swift take, she got tugged along too and a rapid downward fall ended in a thud against a wall.

Bruised arms and grazed knees, they picked up the fearful bits of themselves. Brushing himself, he started walking along the wall, feeling its roughness with both his hands. She dutifully followed. It was pitch dark and his voice seemed to echo. In one flash of a moment, he realized they were inside a tunnel. Either end of it would fling them back into their 'lost world'. Their delight knew no bounds at this discovery.

Tears of happiness streaming down their faces, they started moving in rapid steps along the wall. It was then that he spotted light at the end of the tunnel. What he didn't know was that it was the headlight of an approaching train.

-------------------------------------------------

This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge week eighty-one. The prompt is to use the following word in its third definition, in a 33-333 word piece.

LIGHT (noun)

1a : something that makes vision possible

  b : the sensation aroused by stimulation of the visual receptors

  c : electromagnetic radiation of any wavelength that travels in a vacuum with a speed of about 186,281 miles (300,000 kilometers) per second; specifically : such radiation that is visible to the human eye

2a : daylight

  b : dawn

3: a source of light: as

   a : a celestial body

   b : candle   

   c : an electric light

Erasure

“Honey, I’m sorry for all your suffering in my absence and I promise to be there by your side forever, now onwards” he sobbed profusely with his face buried in her hands.
“Her dementia is far too advanced and she doesn’t remember a thing from the past”, the doctor whispered into his ear.
Her eyes gleamed with an innocent sparkle as she smiled at him, the years of painful separation all forgotten; she had attained Nirvana after all.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
This post is in response to Trifecta Writing Challenge – Week Seventy-One. The prompt is to write complete a story in 3 sentences.

Colors Galore

"The effect you gave it stole the beauty of the original picture somehow", her words faded in the silence surrounding them that night.

"I like it this way. All black and white".

"I love colors better... All the mesmerizing shades you manage to capture so beautifully in all your pictures".

"So how long have you been seeing him?", words popped out abruptly as though the brain-to-tongue pathway had suddenly misfired.

"Who, Jack? Ohh, I kinda fell for him at first sight in college", she blushed, lost in pleasant thoughts.

The rosy redness warming her soft cheeks, the twinkle of her deep-blue eyes, her fragrant, gorgeous golden locks streaked with copper highlights... So much color in her life, he thought.

As he slowly walked her down the dark alley, he quietly drew a knife out of his pocket and kept it hidden from her view.

"Do you love me?"

"Come on Timmy. You know I've always loved Jack", she couldn't hold back her annoyance.

In one swift take, he plunged the knife into his own belly, collapsing onto the ground in one pile.

"You freak", she shrieked, her eyes bloodshot, as her hands tore the knife out of him; a gaping wound, now soaked in blood was staring in her face.

"I love you Rosy. But without you, there's no color in life anyway."

------------------------------------

This post is response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Eighty. The prompt is to write a 33-333 words piece using the word 'freak' in it's third definition.


FREAK (noun)

1
a : a sudden and odd or seemingly pointless idea or turn of the mind
b : a seemingly capricious action or event
2
archaic : a whimsical quality or disposition
3
: one that is markedly unusual or abnormal: as
a : a person or animal having a physical oddity and appearing in a circus sideshow
b slang (1) : a sexual deviate (2) : a person who uses an illicit drug
c : hippie
d : an atypical postage stamp usually caused by a unique defect in paper (as a crease) or a unique event in the manufacturing process (as a speck of dirt on the plate) that does not produce a constant or systematic effect.

Rooftop Whispers

No streets to roam
No gardens to play
No joy with friends
No house to stay
Love made me a vagabond
Yet of you, I'm so fond
Don't abandon me today
Please stay...

------------------------------------

This post is response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Seventy.

Past or Present?

"I have only loved YOU".
"I trust you", my weak smile didn't reach my eyes.
He hugged me as I secretly slipped his diary into my jacket.
She exists in the diary though.
-------------------------------------------------

This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Sixty-Nine. The challenge is to put in the best of your confession in exact 33 words (fiction or non-fiction). 

The Prized Possession

As he would lay his ink-pen to rest everyday, at dusk, he would watch them all with great amusement. 

 

Nowadays, the old man would often grumble about his tail which was slowly growing and which, he was finding increasingly difficult to hide from his wife. The old woman, on the other hand, was getting mysteriously younger by the day, as though she'd acquired the 'magic potion of youth' from some forbidden place. And their son, who once possessed princely handsomeness, would remain locked-up in his room all day, since the past few weeks. He couldn't bear what was happening to him -- rapidly growing sharp claws, devilish canines, dense growth of thick, pointed scales all over his body and an overwhelming desire to feel the texture of raw flesh, freshly torn apart.

The pen was his prized possession and though his pedantic writing didn't amuse many, yet he wrote. It brought him a kind of solace that he couldn't find elsewhere, for reasons best known to him. 

Today, however, was different.

He woke up with a startle in the middle of the night. Close to his feet, he saw the old couple's son, sitting with face buried in his hands. He froze at this sight. His pulse started racing, and suddenly he felt as if there was too much blood for his chest to hold. His mouth parched, voice choked in his own larynx and a paralyzing surge of weakness rapidly incapacitated him, totally. The eerie numbness creeping up his legs, arms and sadly, his brain, prevented him from breaking into a sprint.

The monster jolted towards him like a thunderbolt just as he recollected some words he'd forgotten to pay heed to.

'Be careful of what you write, for this ink shall bring every creation of your mind to life'.

------------------------------

This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge - Week Seventy-Eight. The challenge is to write a 33-333 word piece that includes the word pedantic in its third definition i.e. unimaginative.