#review #Saviour #story
||Eyes||
There was something about those eyes. Something special. As if the whole world was waiting to get a glimpse of those eyes but I was the lucky winner who got the chance to see them first.
" You have your mother’s eyes," I whispered in her ears.
Her new little fingers grasped my finger tightly. Holding her in my arms I felt as if I was holding my entire world.
I still remember the day I first met her mother. She was sitting there all alone.
" Can I take your picture? "
" Why? "
She said this without looking at me.
" of all the things I have seen, you are the second most beautiful. "
" and what is the first one? "
" Your Eyes. "
" Why should I believe you? "
She was still looking down stirring her cup of coffee.
" I am a photographer. I capture beauty. No one knows about beauty better than me. "
She looked in my direction but not at me.
" Dead! "
" What? "
"My eyes, they are dead. I am blind," Her eyes were trying to guess my position. "You said no one knows beauty better than you but I don’t know what beauty is. I don’t know the difference between beauty and ugliness. Do you still think that my eyes are beautiful?"
I couldn’t see her eyes because they were blurred with tears.
" In our profession they say, If the picture is blur, you are not close enough," I moved closer to her. Her face just inches away from mine. She was still trying to guess my position. My breath directed her to me. I kissed her eyes and she got her answer.
I was looking in those eyes. Her eyes. I tried to uncurl her little fingers by pressing on her palm, she curled them back into a tight fist and I captured this moment in my camera.
" Operation theater is ready. "
" Coming Doctor. "
" Are you sure you want to do this? "
" What do my reports say Doctor? "
" You have maximum 4 months. "
" Then I am pretty much sure. "
" But you will never be able to capture beauty in your camera anymore. "
"Doctor my wife is the second best beauty in this world and do you know what is the first one? My daughter’s eyes," I felt as if she smiled when I said this. "and I have captured both in my camera."
Lying in the bed I closed my eyes. All images started to fade. Now everything was black and when I opened my eyes it seemed like millions of years had passed. I opened my eyes but…but it was still dark.
" What is this Doctor? Switch on the lights!! "
" Lights are on. Are you alright? You have taken such a difficult decision…"
" No, no Doctor don’t worry, I was just checking whether you did your job perfectly or not." I laughed but I sensed Doctor’s displeasure to my joke. "How is my wife?"
" Operation was successful but… "
" I know, she need some answers. Please Doctor take me to her. "
The distance to her room was the longest distance I have ever travelled.
"I told you not to take this decision and you said you were just kidding, then why did you do this?" She said. She was crying.
This time she could see me but I couldn’t see her. I have given my vision to my masterpiece. Her image was not on my retina but my mind was drawing a blur image of her in front of me.
"In our profession they say, If the picture is blur, you are not close enough," I was trying to guess her position.
She moved closer to me. Her breath directed me to her. I kissed her eyes and she got her answer
||Eyes||
There was something about those eyes. Something special. As if the whole world was waiting to get a glimpse of those eyes but I was the lucky winner who got the chance to see them first.
" You have your mother’s eyes," I whispered in her ears.
Her new little fingers grasped my finger tightly. Holding her in my arms I felt as if I was holding my entire world.
I still remember the day I first met her mother. She was sitting there all alone.
" Can I take your picture? "
" Why? "
She said this without looking at me.
" of all the things I have seen, you are the second most beautiful. "
" and what is the first one? "
" Your Eyes. "
" Why should I believe you? "
She was still looking down stirring her cup of coffee.
" I am a photographer. I capture beauty. No one knows about beauty better than me. "
She looked in my direction but not at me.
" Dead! "
" What? "
"My eyes, they are dead. I am blind," Her eyes were trying to guess my position. "You said no one knows beauty better than you but I don’t know what beauty is. I don’t know the difference between beauty and ugliness. Do you still think that my eyes are beautiful?"
I couldn’t see her eyes because they were blurred with tears.
" In our profession they say, If the picture is blur, you are not close enough," I moved closer to her. Her face just inches away from mine. She was still trying to guess my position. My breath directed her to me. I kissed her eyes and she got her answer.
I was looking in those eyes. Her eyes. I tried to uncurl her little fingers by pressing on her palm, she curled them back into a tight fist and I captured this moment in my camera.
" Operation theater is ready. "
" Coming Doctor. "
" Are you sure you want to do this? "
" What do my reports say Doctor? "
" You have maximum 4 months. "
" Then I am pretty much sure. "
" But you will never be able to capture beauty in your camera anymore. "
"Doctor my wife is the second best beauty in this world and do you know what is the first one? My daughter’s eyes," I felt as if she smiled when I said this. "and I have captured both in my camera."
Lying in the bed I closed my eyes. All images started to fade. Now everything was black and when I opened my eyes it seemed like millions of years had passed. I opened my eyes but…but it was still dark.
" What is this Doctor? Switch on the lights!! "
" Lights are on. Are you alright? You have taken such a difficult decision…"
" No, no Doctor don’t worry, I was just checking whether you did your job perfectly or not." I laughed but I sensed Doctor’s displeasure to my joke. "How is my wife?"
" Operation was successful but… "
" I know, she need some answers. Please Doctor take me to her. "
The distance to her room was the longest distance I have ever travelled.
"I told you not to take this decision and you said you were just kidding, then why did you do this?" She said. She was crying.
This time she could see me but I couldn’t see her. I have given my vision to my masterpiece. Her image was not on my retina but my mind was drawing a blur image of her in front of me.
"In our profession they say, If the picture is blur, you are not close enough," I was trying to guess her position.
She moved closer to me. Her breath directed me to her. I kissed her eyes and she got her answer
Bye, Summer
Don't you once said you came to stay?
Why does it seem you are on your way?
How long has it been when you made that claim?
How nice does it feel being dragged away?
I pray men learn from your mistake
#review #poem #AhmadMusa
Don't you once said you came to stay?
Why does it seem you are on your way?
How long has it been when you made that claim?
How nice does it feel being dragged away?
I pray men learn from your mistake
#review #poem #AhmadMusa
#poetry #review
What Wrong Did She Do...?
She was still a kid, Playing with her Doll,
Her innocent eyes had that Spark, UNTIL...
She was Wrenched,
She was Impelled,
She was Gripped,
She was Battered,
She was Exploited....
Tears Flowed down her cheek,
The Pain made her Weak..
Her Squawk went unheard,
Her dreams were Shattered..
Her Soul was literally Plucked,
FOR WHAT WRONG WAS SHE PUNISHED...?
What Wrong Did She Do...?
She was still a kid, Playing with her Doll,
Her innocent eyes had that Spark, UNTIL...
She was Wrenched,
She was Impelled,
She was Gripped,
She was Battered,
She was Exploited....
Tears Flowed down her cheek,
The Pain made her Weak..
Her Squawk went unheard,
Her dreams were Shattered..
Her Soul was literally Plucked,
FOR WHAT WRONG WAS SHE PUNISHED...?
|NOTHING IN PROMPTICULAR|
DAY 13
CONDITION: Sci-Fi
PROMPT: She balanced herself on the limb looking into his bedroom window she saw…
She moaned at the sight of him. In two weeks he had become the center of her universe. From a distance though. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. Her feet lost their coordination around him. She didn’t even know what to say. He was calm. Cool and collected. Even when his team was twenty points down in the fourth quarter. His smile. His blonde hair and strong chin. He was one for the movies. The star of her show.
Her eyes widened as he took off his shirt. She whimpered and sunk into adult fantasies. This had been her life since Steve moved into the neighborhood: Lock the door to keep her nosy kid brother out; stare out the window with a novel in hand; wait for Steve to enter her line of sight; come back to earth when he closes his blinds; hatch a new plan to approach him…fail and restart the cycle.
The lights in Steve's room flickered once.
“Oh it’s just his mother.” She said, still not snapping out of her fantasy.
Twice.
“His family is so cute. Maybe it’s bedtime.” She sighed pleasurably.
And again.
“Kid brother is totally trying to prank him.” She thought to herself and stared on.
Now something was different. He had stiffened. He was far from at ease. Steve had fixed his gaze on something. It cast a menacing shadow over him
and...
It all went dark. The lights were gone again, and this time, in every room. She snapped out of her fantasy. There were frantic movements in Steve’s room. The action was made indistinct by the darkness. Her heart rate spiked and a loss of balance was the result. She gripped her rail to avert disaster. Regaining composure, she looked up at his window.
…
“Where’s Steve?!” she pouted.
Her night was ruined! Everything was normal except her eye candy in his natural habitat.
Mavis scanned his room once more. “Still no Steve.”
Something new caught her eye. Something she missed the first time. Something she couldn’t explain. There were new marks on his walls…marks that only tentacles could make.
#MA #review #shortstory
DAY 13
CONDITION: Sci-Fi
PROMPT: She balanced herself on the limb looking into his bedroom window she saw…
She moaned at the sight of him. In two weeks he had become the center of her universe. From a distance though. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. Her feet lost their coordination around him. She didn’t even know what to say. He was calm. Cool and collected. Even when his team was twenty points down in the fourth quarter. His smile. His blonde hair and strong chin. He was one for the movies. The star of her show.
Her eyes widened as he took off his shirt. She whimpered and sunk into adult fantasies. This had been her life since Steve moved into the neighborhood: Lock the door to keep her nosy kid brother out; stare out the window with a novel in hand; wait for Steve to enter her line of sight; come back to earth when he closes his blinds; hatch a new plan to approach him…fail and restart the cycle.
The lights in Steve's room flickered once.
“Oh it’s just his mother.” She said, still not snapping out of her fantasy.
Twice.
“His family is so cute. Maybe it’s bedtime.” She sighed pleasurably.
And again.
“Kid brother is totally trying to prank him.” She thought to herself and stared on.
Now something was different. He had stiffened. He was far from at ease. Steve had fixed his gaze on something. It cast a menacing shadow over him
and...
It all went dark. The lights were gone again, and this time, in every room. She snapped out of her fantasy. There were frantic movements in Steve’s room. The action was made indistinct by the darkness. Her heart rate spiked and a loss of balance was the result. She gripped her rail to avert disaster. Regaining composure, she looked up at his window.
…
“Where’s Steve?!” she pouted.
Her night was ruined! Everything was normal except her eye candy in his natural habitat.
Mavis scanned his room once more. “Still no Steve.”
Something new caught her eye. Something she missed the first time. Something she couldn’t explain. There were new marks on his walls…marks that only tentacles could make.
#MA #review #shortstory
The Complete Man
‘Are you straight?’ I asked bluntly after a couple of minutes of formal talk, as his way of speaking sounded a bit different to me.
‘You mean?’
‘I mean, I don’t know how to ask this in the right way. But are you a full-man?’ I asked like an uneducated moron. I thought of him as a Hijra, at first.
To which, he laughed a little. Thank God, I thought, that I had not offended him.
‘Yes, yes. I’m a full-man who likes full-men. Which means I’m a gay,’ he said like being a gay is perfectly normal and he’s not ashamed of it.
‘Haha, alright.’ I said. ‘If you don’t mind, may I extend this topic a bit more?’
‘Sure.’
‘What’s like being gay in India. I mean, start with your family, if you don’t mind. Do they know about you? And do they support you on that?’
‘They know, yes. They know who I am. And do they support me? Partially. They’ve not thrown me out of their house despite knowing I’m a gay. So they support me on that. But that’s only one part of the story.’
‘They won’t let me be with a boy for the rest of my life. They say—’ he said, stuttering, yet trying to sound perfectly okay, ‘They say— after you’ll get married to a girl, your interests will shift.’
‘And what about the way you walk and the way you speak? What about that?’
‘They say it will change, too.’
‘Oh!’ I said. Refraining from saying anything against his parents. ‘And do you have any boyfriend? I mean, only if you’re comfortable talking about this one, too.’
‘Oh, that’s completely okay to me. People seldom take any interest in my life. Maybe you’re the first one with such hell of a curiosity. So feel free to ask me anything you want. And about my relationship status: Yes, I do have a boyfriend.’
‘You’re kind, I really appreciate you for saying that. And now I suppose I ought to resume my bombarding questions at you, right?’ I chuckled.
‘Why not!’ he said cheerfully.
‘Okay. So what about your boyfriend? He supports you and all?’
‘He loves me. That’s for sure. No doubt in that. But he says he can’t accept me in a male’s body for the rest of his life.’ my gay-friend said matter-of-factly, and continued, ‘My boyfriend says if I want to spend my future with him, I need to have a woman’s body, going through whatever surgery possible.’
What the hell? I said to myself.
I gulped down the air to mull over what I’ve just heard, again. Bloody sexist, I thought of his boyfriend. And just when I was all set to curse his boyfriend, no matter how wrong I might seem to him, the phone was cut down.
By the company.
The time limit to the call was over.
#review #Saviour #shortstory
‘Are you straight?’ I asked bluntly after a couple of minutes of formal talk, as his way of speaking sounded a bit different to me.
‘You mean?’
‘I mean, I don’t know how to ask this in the right way. But are you a full-man?’ I asked like an uneducated moron. I thought of him as a Hijra, at first.
To which, he laughed a little. Thank God, I thought, that I had not offended him.
‘Yes, yes. I’m a full-man who likes full-men. Which means I’m a gay,’ he said like being a gay is perfectly normal and he’s not ashamed of it.
‘Haha, alright.’ I said. ‘If you don’t mind, may I extend this topic a bit more?’
‘Sure.’
‘What’s like being gay in India. I mean, start with your family, if you don’t mind. Do they know about you? And do they support you on that?’
‘They know, yes. They know who I am. And do they support me? Partially. They’ve not thrown me out of their house despite knowing I’m a gay. So they support me on that. But that’s only one part of the story.’
‘They won’t let me be with a boy for the rest of my life. They say—’ he said, stuttering, yet trying to sound perfectly okay, ‘They say— after you’ll get married to a girl, your interests will shift.’
‘And what about the way you walk and the way you speak? What about that?’
‘They say it will change, too.’
‘Oh!’ I said. Refraining from saying anything against his parents. ‘And do you have any boyfriend? I mean, only if you’re comfortable talking about this one, too.’
‘Oh, that’s completely okay to me. People seldom take any interest in my life. Maybe you’re the first one with such hell of a curiosity. So feel free to ask me anything you want. And about my relationship status: Yes, I do have a boyfriend.’
‘You’re kind, I really appreciate you for saying that. And now I suppose I ought to resume my bombarding questions at you, right?’ I chuckled.
‘Why not!’ he said cheerfully.
‘Okay. So what about your boyfriend? He supports you and all?’
‘He loves me. That’s for sure. No doubt in that. But he says he can’t accept me in a male’s body for the rest of his life.’ my gay-friend said matter-of-factly, and continued, ‘My boyfriend says if I want to spend my future with him, I need to have a woman’s body, going through whatever surgery possible.’
What the hell? I said to myself.
I gulped down the air to mull over what I’ve just heard, again. Bloody sexist, I thought of his boyfriend. And just when I was all set to curse his boyfriend, no matter how wrong I might seem to him, the phone was cut down.
By the company.
The time limit to the call was over.
#review #Saviour #shortstory
#review #poetry #love
I think about you all the time
You are always in my head
I reread every text you send
I'm always here for you
Every hour of the day
I'll never let you down
Or hurt you in any way
I love you more than anything
You're like the air I breath
And When I look around
I know you are all I need
My sunshine on a cloudy day
That's one thing that you are
And even on the darkest nights
You are my brightest star
I think about you all the time
You are always in my head
I reread every text you send
I'm always here for you
Every hour of the day
I'll never let you down
Or hurt you in any way
I love you more than anything
You're like the air I breath
And When I look around
I know you are all I need
My sunshine on a cloudy day
That's one thing that you are
And even on the darkest nights
You are my brightest star
The Mirage:
*Trigger Warning*
!Includes bullying, suicide, eating disorder and insensitive behaviour!
Part 1
https://t.me/WritersClub/319278
Guilty Conscience
Part 2
It was almost two years ago when Finneas saw her face for the first time. She was a transfer student who had just joined his class but she became butt of every joke first day onwards. She had a scar on her face, a cruel reminder of her ugly childhood. She had grown up as quite an anxious kid and in her anxiety she had a tendency to eat a lot. This led to her gaining a lot of weight, so much so that she took almost double the amount of space it would take anyone else of her age. Finneas was her biggest nightmare, she would find something sprawled on the board or her desk everyday that reminded her how ugly she was. But this wasn't enough for him, he went further. He invited her to a party, extending a hand of friendship and asked her to bury the hatchet but things went straight to hell as soon as she went inside. The door was closed and now she was in everyone's eyes, they called her ugly, elephant, witch and threw at her any insult they could conjure. But she wasn't going down easy, she threw an equal amount of insult on them leaving them scarlet and crimson in face with embarrassment. She thought she won the war but then things turned on their head.
They forced her to strip, every cloth was taken off from her leaving only her inner clothes on. Then she was made to look in a mirror "look your ugly highness, look at yourself" they guffawed. She sat on her knees clutching herself tightly, sobbing hysterically. Her skin crawled with spiders and scorpions of embarrassment stung her insides. She knew at that point of time what she was going to do, what option was left with her. Through their ricocheting laughter she could hear her own innerself very clearly.
"Stop there. Please, stop. Don't!" he pleads. A pain rises in his chest and his hand, which feels much like stabs just ten times worse. The blood pools in his face, he clutches his chest as his feeble efforts to pick himself up off the ground fails, his eyes stare at her very much out of their sockets.
When his parents arrive two days later they are welcomed by a rank smell, they frantically search for Finneas only to find him dead in his study room. The post-mortem showed the reason for death was heart attack, but he was just 17. Police asked if he was stressing over something and his parents look each other in the eyes, they know that she had mentioned his name clearly in her suicide note before jumping off the ninth floor to her death. But still, why was the door of study room closed from outside, this question leaves even police officers perplexed. There were no other fingerprint on the lock other than house members and there was no sign of any forced entry either. Knowing this, the two best friends smile: one secretly, standing in Finneas's funeral, the other in her grave, now finally settling inside it in peace.
#tm #review #shortstory
*Trigger Warning*
!Includes bullying, suicide, eating disorder and insensitive behaviour!
Part 1
https://t.me/WritersClub/319278
Guilty Conscience
Part 2
It was almost two years ago when Finneas saw her face for the first time. She was a transfer student who had just joined his class but she became butt of every joke first day onwards. She had a scar on her face, a cruel reminder of her ugly childhood. She had grown up as quite an anxious kid and in her anxiety she had a tendency to eat a lot. This led to her gaining a lot of weight, so much so that she took almost double the amount of space it would take anyone else of her age. Finneas was her biggest nightmare, she would find something sprawled on the board or her desk everyday that reminded her how ugly she was. But this wasn't enough for him, he went further. He invited her to a party, extending a hand of friendship and asked her to bury the hatchet but things went straight to hell as soon as she went inside. The door was closed and now she was in everyone's eyes, they called her ugly, elephant, witch and threw at her any insult they could conjure. But she wasn't going down easy, she threw an equal amount of insult on them leaving them scarlet and crimson in face with embarrassment. She thought she won the war but then things turned on their head.
They forced her to strip, every cloth was taken off from her leaving only her inner clothes on. Then she was made to look in a mirror "look your ugly highness, look at yourself" they guffawed. She sat on her knees clutching herself tightly, sobbing hysterically. Her skin crawled with spiders and scorpions of embarrassment stung her insides. She knew at that point of time what she was going to do, what option was left with her. Through their ricocheting laughter she could hear her own innerself very clearly.
"Stop there. Please, stop. Don't!" he pleads. A pain rises in his chest and his hand, which feels much like stabs just ten times worse. The blood pools in his face, he clutches his chest as his feeble efforts to pick himself up off the ground fails, his eyes stare at her very much out of their sockets.
When his parents arrive two days later they are welcomed by a rank smell, they frantically search for Finneas only to find him dead in his study room. The post-mortem showed the reason for death was heart attack, but he was just 17. Police asked if he was stressing over something and his parents look each other in the eyes, they know that she had mentioned his name clearly in her suicide note before jumping off the ninth floor to her death. But still, why was the door of study room closed from outside, this question leaves even police officers perplexed. There were no other fingerprint on the lock other than house members and there was no sign of any forced entry either. Knowing this, the two best friends smile: one secretly, standing in Finneas's funeral, the other in her grave, now finally settling inside it in peace.
#tm #review #shortstory
Telegram
The Mirage in Writers [english]
Author's note: I wrote this story as part of a challenge to write suspense-thriller-horror in 1000 words.
Guilty Conscience
Part 1
The house is empty, the footsteps of passerby on the adjoining road echos hauntingly. Finneas walks with careful steps, his…
Guilty Conscience
Part 1
The house is empty, the footsteps of passerby on the adjoining road echos hauntingly. Finneas walks with careful steps, his…
Sometimes I question myself, “What is death?”
Is it something that happens when we permanently cease our breath?
Or is it what our holy mythological books describe?
That the soul leaves the body and in the greater power it imbibes!
Some of them believe we die to be born in the mortal world again,
While some give theories which even they can’t explain!
But don’t we die when we lose our morals and forget our ethics?
When we commit a crime destroying god’s aesthetics!
We behave like demons, leaving the actual living nature,
Harass or kill someone and increase our fake evil stature!
Our body may look fine outside, but the soul inside is dead,
Grief and destruction of friends and family is the thing which lies ahead!
Or don’t we die when within us our identity is lost?
And in the sea of uncertainty, our existence is tossed!
We live without dreams of doing things which we never desired,
Sacrificing our thoughts of living in a way which we always aspired!
Living up to someone else’s expectations, choking our own,
Inside we die waiting for someone to hear our moans!
Or maybe we perish when all our hopes are shattered,
When the happiness of our lives into pieces is scattered!
Gradually all the motivation from our life disappears,
So to the path of depression, the vehicle of our life steers.
The person may laugh outside but inside he is crying,
It becomes even more difficult to ask for help when the spirit is dying!
We die many times before we face actual death,
But it’s up to us to revive ourselves or lay our wreath!
Just like games, our life also has the option to respawn,
No one knows about rebirth, but in this life, I believe we can be reborn!
A little belief with a pinch of happiness can help us pass a terrible phase,
Because life has everything, only we can decide what we have to chase!
#review #themodernsaint #death
Is it something that happens when we permanently cease our breath?
Or is it what our holy mythological books describe?
That the soul leaves the body and in the greater power it imbibes!
Some of them believe we die to be born in the mortal world again,
While some give theories which even they can’t explain!
But don’t we die when we lose our morals and forget our ethics?
When we commit a crime destroying god’s aesthetics!
We behave like demons, leaving the actual living nature,
Harass or kill someone and increase our fake evil stature!
Our body may look fine outside, but the soul inside is dead,
Grief and destruction of friends and family is the thing which lies ahead!
Or don’t we die when within us our identity is lost?
And in the sea of uncertainty, our existence is tossed!
We live without dreams of doing things which we never desired,
Sacrificing our thoughts of living in a way which we always aspired!
Living up to someone else’s expectations, choking our own,
Inside we die waiting for someone to hear our moans!
Or maybe we perish when all our hopes are shattered,
When the happiness of our lives into pieces is scattered!
Gradually all the motivation from our life disappears,
So to the path of depression, the vehicle of our life steers.
The person may laugh outside but inside he is crying,
It becomes even more difficult to ask for help when the spirit is dying!
We die many times before we face actual death,
But it’s up to us to revive ourselves or lay our wreath!
Just like games, our life also has the option to respawn,
No one knows about rebirth, but in this life, I believe we can be reborn!
A little belief with a pinch of happiness can help us pass a terrible phase,
Because life has everything, only we can decide what we have to chase!
#review #themodernsaint #death
#Saviour #poetry #review
||The Whims and Caprices of A one sided lover.||
When a war was unleashed between the mind and heart,
It seemed as if the mountains had torn apart.
I was confused which side to take
For my one- sided love was at the stake.
Both began to lure me,
Into accepting their own line of thought.
I was amazed to see how vigorously
The two great powers fought.
The heart commenced with great enthusiasm,
Singing praises of my beloved.
To whom my entire life was dedicated,
Whose name was in my heart engraved.
She is so divinely beautiful,
So talented and so smart.
Is it any wonder that she,
On the first sight, stole your heart.
She possesses the grace of a swan,
The tenderness of a sapling,
The beauty of a spring rose,
The majesty of a king.
She stands out among the other mortals
Like a swan in a flock of ravens.
Her descent on this earth was a mistake of gods;
Her place is actually in the heavens.
Her touch gives life and vitality
Even to the feelings forgotten and unknown.
On the ground where she treads her soft feet
The fragrance lingers long after she is gone.
When she dances it seems
That the angels of skies have undergone an incarnation.
For redefining the fine art in a sublime way;
To elevate it to a new dimension.
While she reaches the zenith during a dance,
Her Nightingale voice robs you of your frets and fears.
Her sweet melodious song feels as if
The heavenly nectar is dripping in your ears.
Does anyone possess even a fragment of the chastity
That illuminates her divine face.
Was there ever someone so worthy of being possessed
In the entire human race.
Her very smile is enough
To send you soaring in the sky of delight.
Roaming freely on the clouds of ecstasy,
Or strolling on a beach on a full moon night.
Your thoughts have unveiled a new horizon,
She has inspired your fantasy to explore new heights.
With her you have spent your most cherished moments,
In her dreams you have sighed out many sleepless nights.
Now it was the turn of my mind
To furnish its arguments against those of the heart.
While the heart had won over my feelings and emotions,
the mind had to rely on my rational part.
She may be smart, beautiful and talented
Even a diva or fairy for you:
But one thing you may take for granted
That she is not in love with you.
You yourself are quite a unique set
Of qualities, achievements and talents.
Then why have you embarked on this path of love,
Where the future points only to grief and laments.
You can withstand hard times, no doubt
Or even recollect memories that leave you sore.
But the fangs of one-sided love are, my friend,
In faith, too painful to endure.
She is not the only one beautiful
There are millions like her in this world
Moreover wasting time over a futile one-sided love
Is the stupidest thing I ever heard.
So, stop living in a fantasy world
Pull yourself out of this state of trance.
Instead of devoting your life to her,
Take a path where you at least get a chance.
Your love has no meaning for her
So better forget this weird love-mess.
Clear your mind of her memories
And start a new journey afresh.
Now that both the mind and heart were done,
It was my turn to take a decision.
The course of the battle now entirely depended
On my judgement’s wisdom and precision.
Though both had fought exceptionally well,
The victor for me was the heart.
For the truth was simply that
It had swayed my whims from the very start.
And so I began the final task,
To bring this argument to a solution.
To justify my true love for my beloved
And to end all this confusion.
True love has no expectations,
True love has no demands,
It makes you a king without a crown
And places the whole world in your hands.
To gain her is not my motive
Attaining her won’t be an achievement
If the purpose of love too is to gain something
What else is left in this world for contentment.
She may not be in love with me
She may not be mine in this birth
But in relishing my love for her
I realized my own worth.
My love has transformed me into a new person
It has given me divine insights.
||The Whims and Caprices of A one sided lover.||
When a war was unleashed between the mind and heart,
It seemed as if the mountains had torn apart.
I was confused which side to take
For my one- sided love was at the stake.
Both began to lure me,
Into accepting their own line of thought.
I was amazed to see how vigorously
The two great powers fought.
The heart commenced with great enthusiasm,
Singing praises of my beloved.
To whom my entire life was dedicated,
Whose name was in my heart engraved.
She is so divinely beautiful,
So talented and so smart.
Is it any wonder that she,
On the first sight, stole your heart.
She possesses the grace of a swan,
The tenderness of a sapling,
The beauty of a spring rose,
The majesty of a king.
She stands out among the other mortals
Like a swan in a flock of ravens.
Her descent on this earth was a mistake of gods;
Her place is actually in the heavens.
Her touch gives life and vitality
Even to the feelings forgotten and unknown.
On the ground where she treads her soft feet
The fragrance lingers long after she is gone.
When she dances it seems
That the angels of skies have undergone an incarnation.
For redefining the fine art in a sublime way;
To elevate it to a new dimension.
While she reaches the zenith during a dance,
Her Nightingale voice robs you of your frets and fears.
Her sweet melodious song feels as if
The heavenly nectar is dripping in your ears.
Does anyone possess even a fragment of the chastity
That illuminates her divine face.
Was there ever someone so worthy of being possessed
In the entire human race.
Her very smile is enough
To send you soaring in the sky of delight.
Roaming freely on the clouds of ecstasy,
Or strolling on a beach on a full moon night.
Your thoughts have unveiled a new horizon,
She has inspired your fantasy to explore new heights.
With her you have spent your most cherished moments,
In her dreams you have sighed out many sleepless nights.
Now it was the turn of my mind
To furnish its arguments against those of the heart.
While the heart had won over my feelings and emotions,
the mind had to rely on my rational part.
She may be smart, beautiful and talented
Even a diva or fairy for you:
But one thing you may take for granted
That she is not in love with you.
You yourself are quite a unique set
Of qualities, achievements and talents.
Then why have you embarked on this path of love,
Where the future points only to grief and laments.
You can withstand hard times, no doubt
Or even recollect memories that leave you sore.
But the fangs of one-sided love are, my friend,
In faith, too painful to endure.
She is not the only one beautiful
There are millions like her in this world
Moreover wasting time over a futile one-sided love
Is the stupidest thing I ever heard.
So, stop living in a fantasy world
Pull yourself out of this state of trance.
Instead of devoting your life to her,
Take a path where you at least get a chance.
Your love has no meaning for her
So better forget this weird love-mess.
Clear your mind of her memories
And start a new journey afresh.
Now that both the mind and heart were done,
It was my turn to take a decision.
The course of the battle now entirely depended
On my judgement’s wisdom and precision.
Though both had fought exceptionally well,
The victor for me was the heart.
For the truth was simply that
It had swayed my whims from the very start.
And so I began the final task,
To bring this argument to a solution.
To justify my true love for my beloved
And to end all this confusion.
True love has no expectations,
True love has no demands,
It makes you a king without a crown
And places the whole world in your hands.
To gain her is not my motive
Attaining her won’t be an achievement
If the purpose of love too is to gain something
What else is left in this world for contentment.
She may not be in love with me
She may not be mine in this birth
But in relishing my love for her
I realized my own worth.
My love has transformed me into a new person
It has given me divine insights.
#review #poetry #sk
Before you read; sorry if this looks unsatisfactory cause I wrote this in like 15 minutes? And did not care to edit.
It's dedicated to justice
Requiem Of Their Wills
The world is rotten, what might justice be?
The wicked seek protection from the weak.
The powerful resist their clutches, leaving the powerless behind,
The sane men of the west have already lost their minds.
The devil watched the men fall into an era of darkness,
The angels suffer, in this muddled up state of their conscience.
The double edged sword of justice cuts through the crowd,
Taking out both, good and evil in this shroud.
The innocents perish and the guilty are free,
The morals of the vice fall like leaves from a broken tree.
The neutral cannot repent, nor can they ignore,
The flag bearers of justice are no more.
Can you hear their shouts, O flower born out in a faraway town?
They cannot attain salvation, nor they can run, only their bodies drown.
The clouds of lies make the truth shady,
And the mist makes it hazy.
Their memories fade as they insist,
They have failed their purpose and cannot even resist.
This messed up world recognises a God, but forgets to acknowledge someone's rights,
They say that he will appear and lead their fights.
Reality makes them uneasy, and shadows seem warm,
The world is obviously cruel and to them even hell feels like home.
They watch as the humans turn into monsters, greedy blood dropping from their eyes,
Even the fools have the courage to challenge the wise.
They watch as humanity falls and rises, crashing into the void,
But their are few whom they cannot avoid.
They believe that one day those man made monsters will know god's wrath,
The heavens will shake and even the hell will cry.
May the world find something worthy and true,
Not some made up stories of someone who had already died, or some beautifully constructed lies.
They believe that one day the reality will be dead, and only truth shall prevail,
Finally will this tragedy and betrayal end, and they are sure everybody is wishing the same.
May the dagger of truth penetrate the heart of lies,
And the host of these fake phantasm shall die.
Alas! Their dreams might never come true,
but if they are fulfilled, they will be called the requiem of their wills.
-by Lucifer Mishra
Before you read; sorry if this looks unsatisfactory cause I wrote this in like 15 minutes? And did not care to edit.
It's dedicated to justice
Requiem Of Their Wills
The world is rotten, what might justice be?
The wicked seek protection from the weak.
The powerful resist their clutches, leaving the powerless behind,
The sane men of the west have already lost their minds.
The devil watched the men fall into an era of darkness,
The angels suffer, in this muddled up state of their conscience.
The double edged sword of justice cuts through the crowd,
Taking out both, good and evil in this shroud.
The innocents perish and the guilty are free,
The morals of the vice fall like leaves from a broken tree.
The neutral cannot repent, nor can they ignore,
The flag bearers of justice are no more.
Can you hear their shouts, O flower born out in a faraway town?
They cannot attain salvation, nor they can run, only their bodies drown.
The clouds of lies make the truth shady,
And the mist makes it hazy.
Their memories fade as they insist,
They have failed their purpose and cannot even resist.
This messed up world recognises a God, but forgets to acknowledge someone's rights,
They say that he will appear and lead their fights.
Reality makes them uneasy, and shadows seem warm,
The world is obviously cruel and to them even hell feels like home.
They watch as the humans turn into monsters, greedy blood dropping from their eyes,
Even the fools have the courage to challenge the wise.
They watch as humanity falls and rises, crashing into the void,
But their are few whom they cannot avoid.
They believe that one day those man made monsters will know god's wrath,
The heavens will shake and even the hell will cry.
May the world find something worthy and true,
Not some made up stories of someone who had already died, or some beautifully constructed lies.
They believe that one day the reality will be dead, and only truth shall prevail,
Finally will this tragedy and betrayal end, and they are sure everybody is wishing the same.
May the dagger of truth penetrate the heart of lies,
And the host of these fake phantasm shall die.
Alas! Their dreams might never come true,
but if they are fulfilled, they will be called the requiem of their wills.
-by Lucifer Mishra
#poetry #review #san
Flaming cards
Tracking info on the pebbles,
Shiny red dress in water layers!
Rooted stone like overwhelming.
Thunder hugging the clouds,
Insecure rains can't exhale!
Badness of rainbows searching for rhythms.
Sand compromised very proudly,
Air sake for sublimity.
Glimmer of light, feels the sensation of flaming card's.
Flaming cards
Tracking info on the pebbles,
Shiny red dress in water layers!
Rooted stone like overwhelming.
Thunder hugging the clouds,
Insecure rains can't exhale!
Badness of rainbows searching for rhythms.
Sand compromised very proudly,
Air sake for sublimity.
Glimmer of light, feels the sensation of flaming card's.
If a man should fall on the Earth
Not from a plane or from the Moon
At a time with light from the Sun
What'll make him believe your words?
If you tell him a time will come
When his body will be wrapped up
And his eyes will lost its use
That he will need a touch
What'll make him accept your words?
#AhmadMusa #poem #review
Not from a plane or from the Moon
At a time with light from the Sun
What'll make him believe your words?
If you tell him a time will come
When his body will be wrapped up
And his eyes will lost its use
That he will need a touch
What'll make him accept your words?
#AhmadMusa #poem #review
#Adi #review #poem
Shield,
What people need, is a shield.
Shield to save their futile lives,
Shield to save themselves from the guilt,
Shield to hide their bad deeds,
Shield to look great in everyone's eyes,
Shield which is made up of lies,
Shield which will be wield to crush
others,
Shield to live life in harmony after destroying Innocents.
Shield,
What people need, is a shield.
Shield to save their futile lives,
Shield to save themselves from the guilt,
Shield to hide their bad deeds,
Shield to look great in everyone's eyes,
Shield which is made up of lies,
Shield which will be wield to crush
others,
Shield to live life in harmony after destroying Innocents.
#review #poetry #love
You turned my darkness into light
You made everything alright
You picked me up when I was down
You turned my life around
If I don't have you, what would l
be
A blessing is what you are to me.
The world is full of many people
But there is only one of you
You fill my heart with love
You are God sent gift for me
An angel is what you are to me
There is no reason to be sad
You've taken away all the bad
A best friend is what you are to me❤️
You turned my darkness into light
You made everything alright
You picked me up when I was down
You turned my life around
If I don't have you, what would l
be
A blessing is what you are to me.
The world is full of many people
But there is only one of you
You fill my heart with love
You are God sent gift for me
An angel is what you are to me
There is no reason to be sad
You've taken away all the bad
A best friend is what you are to me❤️
#review #Saviour #shortstory
| Cause it hurts...|
‘Okay. And tell me exactly how you feel about her?’
‘I mean, you know, I’d like to keep it to myself.’ I said. ‘I love some girl out there and that’s it. That’s all I want you to know for the time being.’
‘But you can trust me on that!’ she said, childishly, like a 5 y/o girl wanting to know everything that’s happening around her.
‘Hey… you don’t need to assure me that every now and then. I know I can trust you. Completely. I know that. It’s just that—’ I took a pause, and said again, ‘It’s just that… I don’t know. I don’t feel like sharing this to anyone as of now.’
‘Not even to your closest friend?’
‘No, not even to him.’
‘Does it hurt? I mean, not getting the love you deserve, and not being able to share this with anyone, too. Does it hurt?’
‘I’ll be honest with you.’ I said. ‘It did before. It wasn’t a long time back when it used to hurt a lot.’
‘But now it doesn’t?’
‘I’d be lying if I say it doesn’t hurt at all.’ I said. ‘You see things ain’t going your way, and you get hurt. That’s how it goes. But now my heart and mind walk along the same lane. They are quite congenial to each other. To what they want and what they deserve.’
‘A bit of philosophy, ha?’ she said.
‘If you don’t want to sound a bit filmy— or cliché is the more precise word what people are using these days— philosophy is the only way around.’ I said. ‘So you do get it, don’t you?’
‘I’m very much unknown to Seneca or Socrates or Plato.’ she said. ‘But since I’ve to answer you something, I would say— you’ve other things to focus upon, too, other than love. Like goals and career. Is that what you’re talking about?’
‘Give yourself a hard slap on your back, smart lady! That’s the size of it.’
‘Yayy, chocolates? Now I need chocolates.’
‘Don’t you fear god? Your fathers’ salary is thrice to my fathers’. And I and my sister have grown up eating chalks and slate pencils. You still want some chocolates?’
‘I hate you.’
‘Accepted. At least this won’t hurt as much as love does.’ I replied, with a dry smile.
| Cause it hurts...|
‘Okay. And tell me exactly how you feel about her?’
‘I mean, you know, I’d like to keep it to myself.’ I said. ‘I love some girl out there and that’s it. That’s all I want you to know for the time being.’
‘But you can trust me on that!’ she said, childishly, like a 5 y/o girl wanting to know everything that’s happening around her.
‘Hey… you don’t need to assure me that every now and then. I know I can trust you. Completely. I know that. It’s just that—’ I took a pause, and said again, ‘It’s just that… I don’t know. I don’t feel like sharing this to anyone as of now.’
‘Not even to your closest friend?’
‘No, not even to him.’
‘Does it hurt? I mean, not getting the love you deserve, and not being able to share this with anyone, too. Does it hurt?’
‘I’ll be honest with you.’ I said. ‘It did before. It wasn’t a long time back when it used to hurt a lot.’
‘But now it doesn’t?’
‘I’d be lying if I say it doesn’t hurt at all.’ I said. ‘You see things ain’t going your way, and you get hurt. That’s how it goes. But now my heart and mind walk along the same lane. They are quite congenial to each other. To what they want and what they deserve.’
‘A bit of philosophy, ha?’ she said.
‘If you don’t want to sound a bit filmy— or cliché is the more precise word what people are using these days— philosophy is the only way around.’ I said. ‘So you do get it, don’t you?’
‘I’m very much unknown to Seneca or Socrates or Plato.’ she said. ‘But since I’ve to answer you something, I would say— you’ve other things to focus upon, too, other than love. Like goals and career. Is that what you’re talking about?’
‘Give yourself a hard slap on your back, smart lady! That’s the size of it.’
‘Yayy, chocolates? Now I need chocolates.’
‘Don’t you fear god? Your fathers’ salary is thrice to my fathers’. And I and my sister have grown up eating chalks and slate pencils. You still want some chocolates?’
‘I hate you.’
‘Accepted. At least this won’t hurt as much as love does.’ I replied, with a dry smile.
|NOTHING IN PROMPTICULAR|
DAY 14
CONDITION: Thriller
PROMPT: Without his big toes it was incredibly difficult to walk…
||PART 1||
“Josh Wake up!” Her whisper was firm and impatient. There wasn’t much time. Crouched by his bedside to keep from being spotted, she tried again.
Still nothing! Josh had evidently been drugged. Sue sighed, disappointed at her newest thought. She counted down in her head and…BARGE!
Josh flew off the table with his makeshift pillow. His face got planted into the uneven ground. His fall shook the structure. She didn’t have to be told. Her cover had been blown. Much worse, by a glorified idiot! Why did he have to be so important anyway?
She crawled to him and turned him over hoping for the best. A bloody nose was fine in her books. She prayed against a broken one though. Josh Kent, the face of the morning show, won’t be as dashing with a lopsided nose. The city would never forgive one who ruined such a perfect face.
Sue’s eyes widened. Blood snaked from his nostrils but the bloke was still asleep. Her first aid instincts kicked in. She flew into chest compressions all the while listening for the long overdue sound of menacing footsteps.
She took a better look at her surroundings. A large room with tools and worktables everywhere. Dirty oil, a makeshift sickbed with full on torture equipment nearby. The stuffiness was sickening. The lighting obscured vision. Dust clung to every molecule of oxygen. Two things in the room made her smile however. Many places to hide and the fiery red nail gun she had salvaged.
“Come on. Come on!” Sue whispered again. Talking undertone was hellish. She was used to barking everything. She had to command respect from her diminutive frame. A large voice made things easier for her.
Sue cringed at her next thought. On a normal day she’d slap a man awake. But this time it was Josh and his nose was already being generous with the blood. Mouth to mouth resuscitation…that was her last resort.
She dropped the nailgun, knelt down over him, wiped his leaking face with gentle palms, puckered up some juicy lips, screwed her eyes shut and dove in.
Contact!
With his palm!?
...
“You? Try to kiss me?” He cringed at the thought of it. “I don’t even know you!” He shrieked.
“What? You were awake this whole time?” Her embarrassment couldn’t be hidden.
“YES! Awake enough to see that you’re pretty cheap. AND THIRSTY! Ugly ol' woman.” His words impaled every part of her. Again, the mantra of her world was validated. “ All men are the same”
“You’d say this to the woman risking her life to save you?” She protested.
“Don’t talk like you’re perfect. You tried to kiss a sleeping man you just met!”. His accusation stabbed her. Her fists deformed into clenches. Her pale Caucasian skin began to burn. Her teeth clamped down on the horrid words she wanted to spew.
Sue lost the internal battle and shot words at him anyway, “Your socks reek! And you look better on TV!”
Slowly getting back to her feet she said, “Escape on your own since you’re so perfect.” She mopped her eyes with her sleeve before her tears broke out.
“I risk my life to save you and…QUICK! HIDE,SOMEONE IS COMING!” She commanded undertone...
To be continued
#MA #review #shortstory
DAY 14
CONDITION: Thriller
PROMPT: Without his big toes it was incredibly difficult to walk…
||PART 1||
“Josh Wake up!” Her whisper was firm and impatient. There wasn’t much time. Crouched by his bedside to keep from being spotted, she tried again.
Still nothing! Josh had evidently been drugged. Sue sighed, disappointed at her newest thought. She counted down in her head and…BARGE!
Josh flew off the table with his makeshift pillow. His face got planted into the uneven ground. His fall shook the structure. She didn’t have to be told. Her cover had been blown. Much worse, by a glorified idiot! Why did he have to be so important anyway?
She crawled to him and turned him over hoping for the best. A bloody nose was fine in her books. She prayed against a broken one though. Josh Kent, the face of the morning show, won’t be as dashing with a lopsided nose. The city would never forgive one who ruined such a perfect face.
Sue’s eyes widened. Blood snaked from his nostrils but the bloke was still asleep. Her first aid instincts kicked in. She flew into chest compressions all the while listening for the long overdue sound of menacing footsteps.
She took a better look at her surroundings. A large room with tools and worktables everywhere. Dirty oil, a makeshift sickbed with full on torture equipment nearby. The stuffiness was sickening. The lighting obscured vision. Dust clung to every molecule of oxygen. Two things in the room made her smile however. Many places to hide and the fiery red nail gun she had salvaged.
“Come on. Come on!” Sue whispered again. Talking undertone was hellish. She was used to barking everything. She had to command respect from her diminutive frame. A large voice made things easier for her.
Sue cringed at her next thought. On a normal day she’d slap a man awake. But this time it was Josh and his nose was already being generous with the blood. Mouth to mouth resuscitation…that was her last resort.
She dropped the nailgun, knelt down over him, wiped his leaking face with gentle palms, puckered up some juicy lips, screwed her eyes shut and dove in.
Contact!
With his palm!?
...
“You? Try to kiss me?” He cringed at the thought of it. “I don’t even know you!” He shrieked.
“What? You were awake this whole time?” Her embarrassment couldn’t be hidden.
“YES! Awake enough to see that you’re pretty cheap. AND THIRSTY! Ugly ol' woman.” His words impaled every part of her. Again, the mantra of her world was validated. “ All men are the same”
“You’d say this to the woman risking her life to save you?” She protested.
“Don’t talk like you’re perfect. You tried to kiss a sleeping man you just met!”. His accusation stabbed her. Her fists deformed into clenches. Her pale Caucasian skin began to burn. Her teeth clamped down on the horrid words she wanted to spew.
Sue lost the internal battle and shot words at him anyway, “Your socks reek! And you look better on TV!”
Slowly getting back to her feet she said, “Escape on your own since you’re so perfect.” She mopped her eyes with her sleeve before her tears broke out.
“I risk my life to save you and…QUICK! HIDE,SOMEONE IS COMING!” She commanded undertone...
To be continued
#MA #review #shortstory
||PART 2||
The footsteps were getting louder. She was deep in enemy territory. Those boots could certainly not be friendly.
Sue vanished behind the closest worktable. Josh sprung up to a vertical base. Took one step and belly flopped to the ground.
“Sue help me!” He pulled himself towards the worktable on his forearms.
“Shit! Josh, this isn’t the time for games!” An infuriated Sue peered from behind the table and took his hand. There was still no sign of the imminent threat.
“No, no don’t pull me!” Josh argued. "The oil is going to..."
His sentence was truncated by her tug. By now he was sliding through the dirty oil on the ground at the mercy of Sue's yank.
…
“Pretty boy! It’s lunchtime.” The menacing steps were finally in the room. The owner of the footsteps had a hostile rasp in his voice.
He seemed to be examining the place. Sue could tell from his slow wandering steps. “Pathetic! I know you’re here and I know pretty boy couldn’t do this alone.” The intruder said as he picked up a steel bar from the floor.
“Pretty boy, you have one more chance to show yourself.”
The intruder dealt three blows to the nearest worktable. That was his innovative way of counting. With no sign of Josh, he shrugged.
”It looks like you are on the menu. Let the games begin.”
…
“Josh what was the one-step- fall about? The penguin dance? ” Sue protested.
“An angry baton man is coming. Don’t argue or I’ll shout”.
“Fool! He’ll kill you first.” Sue countered.
Josh made a face to complement his idiocy and tried to change the topic. “I can’t believe you! Now I’ve got dirty oil in my shirt."
“Your socks are the real problem here! They’d still reek from six feet under. Take them off.” Sue didn’t miss the opportunity to pounce on him.
Baton man's attacks on innocent worktables were getting closer. Their incessant whispering was going to be a dead give away.
Josh slipped both socks off after Sue's harsh attack on his person…
“OH SHIT! WHERE ARE YOUR TOES?!” Sue yelled. She covered her mouth realizing she had exposed them.
“I’ve got you, fat rat! And your screeching partner too!” The intruder threatened. His boots charged in their direction...
“Wow so much for undercover rescue! Who’s the idiot now?!” Josh muttered as he flared his nose at Sue...
"So that's why you couldn't walk?" she asked still dumbfounded.
"If we die it's your fault, whatever your name is."
"My name is Sue. Keep on your toes and we'll make it out of here alive."
"A toe joke?! Now?" Josh started.
"Be quiet! I have a plan."
To be continued…
(Mainly because, his difficulty in walking would be focused on more during their attempt to escape)
#MA #review #shortstory
The footsteps were getting louder. She was deep in enemy territory. Those boots could certainly not be friendly.
Sue vanished behind the closest worktable. Josh sprung up to a vertical base. Took one step and belly flopped to the ground.
“Sue help me!” He pulled himself towards the worktable on his forearms.
“Shit! Josh, this isn’t the time for games!” An infuriated Sue peered from behind the table and took his hand. There was still no sign of the imminent threat.
“No, no don’t pull me!” Josh argued. "The oil is going to..."
His sentence was truncated by her tug. By now he was sliding through the dirty oil on the ground at the mercy of Sue's yank.
…
“Pretty boy! It’s lunchtime.” The menacing steps were finally in the room. The owner of the footsteps had a hostile rasp in his voice.
He seemed to be examining the place. Sue could tell from his slow wandering steps. “Pathetic! I know you’re here and I know pretty boy couldn’t do this alone.” The intruder said as he picked up a steel bar from the floor.
“Pretty boy, you have one more chance to show yourself.”
The intruder dealt three blows to the nearest worktable. That was his innovative way of counting. With no sign of Josh, he shrugged.
”It looks like you are on the menu. Let the games begin.”
…
“Josh what was the one-step- fall about? The penguin dance? ” Sue protested.
“An angry baton man is coming. Don’t argue or I’ll shout”.
“Fool! He’ll kill you first.” Sue countered.
Josh made a face to complement his idiocy and tried to change the topic. “I can’t believe you! Now I’ve got dirty oil in my shirt."
“Your socks are the real problem here! They’d still reek from six feet under. Take them off.” Sue didn’t miss the opportunity to pounce on him.
Baton man's attacks on innocent worktables were getting closer. Their incessant whispering was going to be a dead give away.
Josh slipped both socks off after Sue's harsh attack on his person…
“OH SHIT! WHERE ARE YOUR TOES?!” Sue yelled. She covered her mouth realizing she had exposed them.
“I’ve got you, fat rat! And your screeching partner too!” The intruder threatened. His boots charged in their direction...
“Wow so much for undercover rescue! Who’s the idiot now?!” Josh muttered as he flared his nose at Sue...
"So that's why you couldn't walk?" she asked still dumbfounded.
"If we die it's your fault, whatever your name is."
"My name is Sue. Keep on your toes and we'll make it out of here alive."
"A toe joke?! Now?" Josh started.
"Be quiet! I have a plan."
To be continued…
(Mainly because, his difficulty in walking would be focused on more during their attempt to escape)
#MA #review #shortstory