a lullaby of memories, whispering stories.
© Vinitha 2021
The above six-word story is written in response to Saturday Six Word Story Prompt (6WSP) hosted by Shweta. This week’s prompt is PAST.
Kavya liked going to the park every evening. Today was awfully cold, but she walked to the park covering herself in layers of cloth. Her attempt to keep her warm in those layers of warm cloth was a failure as the numbing cold held her in its embrace mercilessly.
If Nikhil saw her out in this freezing weather mindlessly strolling around, he would scold her. His scolding wasn’t the problem, she was used to it. He would lecture her forever. His memory is annoyingly excellent that he recalls the events that had transpired eons ago and effortlessly brings them all up into the current moment as if they have all categorized under a particular tag to be remembered as and when he wanted. He’s got a spectacular mind, she thought uneasily.
Memories shouldn’t be used for taunting someone. Kavya thought memories as a savory to make her present moment delectable. Much like how someone discarded spoiled food, she discarded bad memories without a second thought. Why bother with the past and its nuisance when it can’t make her life better? That was her policy.
Nikhil and Kavya were on opposite poles to say the least. Nikhil took pride in analyzing and coming up with foolproof plans for the future based on learnings from the past experiences.
He never knew how to live in the moment, a sigh escaped from Kavya. All his plans couldn’t stop death from snatching his life. If only he lived when he was alive, she would’ve had some sweet memories to cherish now.
Nikhil wouldn’t lecture her now, somehow remembering that failed to make her happy.
© Vinitha 2020
This Flash Fiction is written in response to the seventeenth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘Remember’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
Neha picked up the envelope which lay forgotten in her desk drawer for years. She wrote it for herself some twelve years ago. The plan was to open it ten years later.
Who knew ten years later she would forget the existence of the letter itself. Life has sweet-talked her into forgetting the fondest memories of her life.
Just then her fingers stumbled upon another envelope bringing her back from her trance. Neha froze for a moment as she recognized that envelope. How could she forget about it! That day twelve years ago, she wrote two letters – one for her future self and another for 10-year-older Avinash, her best friend. In return, Avinash wrote one letter for himself and one for 10-year-older Neha. They had made this big plan of opening all four letters and reading them together no matter where they were.
A smile appeared on her tear stained face as she remembered the jokes and the laughter that followed the letter writing episode.
Not only did she forget about the letters, she forgot to remember Avinash when the time came. Funny how life takes us away from our big plans, she mused.
Truth is she was deliberately not letting Avinash’s memories into her mind. Four years after the letters were written, Avinash died in an accident. Fighting back the tears she opened his letter,
“I will be with you always.”
She wept with unbearable grief.
© Vinitha 2020
This Flash Fiction is written in response to the sixteenth edition of Fiction Monday for the below picture prompt – hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
Morning air had a peculiar softness in it as if it had realized that everything else in her life was rough. Niya felt pity on herself.
Pity – lately that’s the one feeling she is in touch with.
Anything good happens to her, she chooses to see it as a charity.
As the morning sun gleamed in the distance, Niya had a sudden urge to stop pitying herself. Even if the universe is throwing these blissful moments at her as a pity, it’s on her to make it to her advantage.
She was done with playing the victim role that moment.
© Vinitha 2020
This flash fiction is written in response to the ninth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt ‘SOFT’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
“Please let me out!” his voice echoed in the room. “I will not bother you. I promise. ”
His scream filled with fear and desperation made her smile.
He will never escape, such was her handiwork. Jailed inside the mirror all he could do was cry.
© Vinitha 2020
This 45-word Flash Fiction is written in response to the ninth edition of Fiction Monday for the above picture prompt and the word prompt ‘MIRROR’ hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
He was nice. Different. Butterflies fluttered inside her stomach at this thought.
She longed for someone who was different from others. Someone who cared. He could be the one, the one who cared.
She decided to let him in. Did he spot the BEWARE sign hanging on the way to her mind? Surely he should. He will be punished of course, if he overlooks the warning.
But she had hope, this little pup was definitely different from the other gentlemen bloke who broke her heart.
© Vinitha 2020
This Flash Fiction is written in response to the seventh edition of Fiction Monday – word prompt ‘BEWARE’ and the below picture prompt – hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell. 🙂
You might know that I am in the process of writing a novel. Signing up for NaNoWriMo was essentially to give that nudge to focus and write the novel, the bits of which had been brewing inside me. Are you curious about my progress? Well, not much! I am writing, at the same time I am not.
Unlike short stories or 100 words fiction, writing a novel, when I myself, don’t know which way I am going, is hard. All I have, are a few visions, fragments of imagination, and a few words after the labored effort of an hour or so. It is much more exhausting than I thought it would be, because as I try to write, I put myself in my character’s metaphorical shoes and inadvertently I feel what I want my character to feel. And since there is more than one such character, I am literally experiencing the emotional roller coaster ride, right here in my living room, all on my own. At times, even my dreams are invaded by these imaginary people! In addition to this I have my other daily routines and the roles in my life which I have perfected so far.
Sometimes I find myself getting caught between my character and me. While it does good for the writing process, I am doubtful on its impression on my real life character. I don’t have the answer to why I set out for this, but I am expecting and hoping that if and when I finish writing this one, I shall get to experience the joy that only a writer chances upon!
I don’t know when this novel will see another pair of eyes. I am not even sure if it happens at all. But I can tell one thing for sure, I am learning a lot through this process of writing. This novel may not be a masterpiece, but this novel sure is teaching me a lot of otherwise overlooked lessons.
Here’s to taking chances!