The broken kaleidoscope wasn’t reflecting darkness. Neither did it trap black spots.
The broken kaleidoscope reflected more colors with a vengeance.
Pieces of blue, pink, orange, green, yellow, and a mix of more colors. It sparkled brilliantly as the more broken pieces accumulated.
Broken doesn’t have to mean losing the ability to shine. Often, being broken lets you show up without your shackles. Perhaps, when you thought you were broken, in fact, you broke off the chain that held you back letting you break free.
Either way, it’s time to shine brightly without fear like the kaleidoscope.
This piece is written in response to the one hundred and ninth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘SPARKLE’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
I have recounted this story many times before. Each time I add bits and pieces to the story to tweak it and spice it up, making it sound unbelievable, yet captivating. Without fail, my audience devoured the unbelievable story marveling at my storytelling abilities.
But, I never dared to tell a soul the truth. How will tell anyone that it wasn’t a story? Will anyone believe me that in fact, it was not a story, but an incident that I experienced in reality?
Being a follower of my heart, I hardly listened to my parents or anyone else. So during that camping trip in the fall, when I wandered off from where we camped, I did that knowing that I was expected to do so. The path I followed took me to an unexpected turn of events.
Was it smoke or fog, I didn’t care. I was swallowed by the haze and could hardly see what lay ahead. The 14-year-old I was almost certain that this was a mistake. Maybe I shouldn’t have explored the uncharted territory all by myself. But it was too late to have a change of heart. I knew my eyes were welling up, but strangely tears didn’t touch my cheeks. To be honest, I had a feeling I was not visible in that weird place. I couldn’t touch my hands or body. I couldn’t see my own hands or legs. Even if my family came looking for me, how would have they spotted me if I was invisible? My heart let out a gasp and I screamed my lungs out. Did my terrifying voice cut through that thick haze of fog? I was not sure.
Then, it appeared – a tiny flicker of light moved toward me as if it was held by someone. But there was no one carrying the lantern. I could see the lantern hanging in front of me nothing holding it or even touching it, but staying there supported by nothing but the haze. It moved slightly to my right and I took it as an indication to follow the lamp. The lantern moved again to my right and I followed the light, hoping that I would get out of that scary place.
After walking for what seemed like hours, I saw familiar trees standing tall and leaves on the ground. At a distance, I could hear my elder brother calling out my name. I called back with great joy, tears rolling down my cheeks. I ran toward Steve calling out his name. Then I stopped to say thanks to the person carrying the lantern. But to my disappointment there was no person or lamp.
Was it magic? Was it something evil? Who will believe my story? Unbelievable, isn’t it?
This “fictional” piece is written in response to the one hundred and third edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘MAGIC’ and the above picture prompt hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
“Sana, are you listening? ” Riya’s voice nudged her. Although her mind has left the park and the bench they occupied a while ago, she nodded and added hurriedly before Riya could point out Sana’s absent-mindedness “let’s walk a bit. I am feeling sleepy sitting here enjoying this beautiful breeze. ”
Sana didn’t want to talk about what had been ravaging her mind. Riya is a sweet, caring, and honest friend. She will come up with a hundred solutions in ten minutes if Sana reveals what’s in her mind. But Sana was not ready to try out Riya’s solutions. She wanted to deal with her problem in her own way.
As the friends walked around the park, Sana noticed a lone figure sitting still on a swing nearby. She walked next to the swing without acknowledging Riya’s chatter.
“Hey! Sanaa! Where are you going now? ” Riya looked slightly annoyed by her friend’s distracted behavior.
Seeing Sana pick up the cute teddy bear sitting all alone on the swing, Riya hollered, “one of the kids must have left her toy here by mistake. “
The teddy bear in her hand seemed to be happy when she picked it up. Sana, too, felt a jolt of happiness, holding the little brown bear in her hand. She hadn’t had one in a long time. She felt this teddy was waiting for her there. The stuffed toy would make a great companion. Someone to share her concerns with, without being flooded with a thousand questions and solutions. Sana was sure this teddy bear wouldn’t judge her a bit.
She walked back to Riya holding her new friend with a smile lighting up her face.
This “fictional” piece is written in response to the one hundred and second edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘DARK’ and the above picture prompt hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
This poetry piece is written in response to the ninety-fourth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘SIMMER’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
He felt that he was the luckiest man alive as his newborn baby snuggled in his arms. Nothing else mattered at that moment. It was as if the sun was shining only for them.
The new day of his life radiated love like he never experienced before.
This five-sentence fiction piece is written in response to the eighty-fifth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘LOVE’ and the above picture prompt hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
This piece is written in response to the eighty-first edition of Fiction Monday for the above picture prompt hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
The petals of dandelions appear delicate yet they are so fearless to blatantly show their beauty. It’s not fragile, or vulnerable in a negative sense.
Getting to show off their uniqueness – the fragility, the vulnerability, the ability to free itself from the flower and wander off slowly, elegantly and settle somewhere unfamiliar – isn’t that stunningly brave? Isn’t that simply incredible?
To be not afraid of your own vulnerability, instead flaunt it and mesmerize everyone in the vicinity by simply being you?
This piece is written in response to the seventy-second edition of Fiction Monday for the below picture prompt and the word prompt ‘BEAUTY’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
It’s not time yet. That’s what he kept telling himself. He had convinced himself that in order to pursue his dreams he needed to be free of all the commitments in life. Work, family, kids’ education – so many things needed his full focus.
Pursuing his dream of writing a novel would require him to take a break from his demanding work which in turn would affect their financial situation. So, not now. And he wasn’t even sure how successful, he would be as a writer. It’s not like he was trained to be a writer. Writing was his passion. That’s all. So not now.
But it would be a satisfying experience when he finally took the step – that much he was sure of.
That’s what he thought until yesterday.
Today he got the scan results and received the grave news. He is sick. It’s time to take a break from his demanding job and check in at the hospital the soonest.
The unwritten novel haunted his dreams.
This fictional piece is written in response to the sixty-eighth edition of Fiction Monday for the above picture prompt and the word prompt ‘DREAM’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
The above thought was provoked by the simpler times that we enjoyed some time ago, which now feels like was a long time ago. 16 years ago, when I was in college, mobile phones weren’t as popular. There were only some kids who brought their phone to the classroom. Tariffs were still way too high at that time. Phone camera was not that good. But we still enjoyed the functionalities such as games mainly that came with the phone. We couldn’t download new games because there was no provision for that yet.
Phones back then were purely for texting and calling.
Then came out the ones with radio in it. That was revolutionary. The pure joy of listening to songs through the phone was exploited to its max by many of us. I didn’t have a walkman when that was available. Any of you remember walkman? So I absolutely enjoyed the radio on the phone feature as much as I could.
Today, though, I can listen to songs through multiple sources at my will, any time I want to, I don’t do it as often.
That simpler time and its charm isn’t lost on me.
The funny part is I remember vividly the times I used to listen to the songs on the radio, the transistor radio, much more lucidly than any other times.
What do you miss from back then when the times were simpler, but wasn’t easy as it is now?
This piece is written in response to the sixty-sixth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
Void Thoughts 