What a wonderful life

“Happy New Year!!” they shouted in unison.
“Happy New Year!” she smiled back weakly, still groggy from sleep.
Once fully awake, she grinned widely. It was that time of the year when she was most happy. Well, not most. She was most happy on her birthday. There were more presents then! Nevertheless, these words spoken, no, shouted every year always filled her heart with love.

“So Margaret dear, what is your topmost resolution for this year?” Diana asked, plopping herself on the bed beside her as Tom walked over to Margaret’s side.
“Umm… I’m not sure mom… Couple of things?”
“Well, good! What are they?”
Margaret began excitedly.
“I want to study the stars. Apparently, they are the most brilliant objects in the universe. Then, I want to learn maps, so I never get lost.”
“That’s a great plan,” Tom remarked.
“Thanks, dad. I wonder though, how I will keep track of all these classes. I am already in the music and abacus classes. I could get overwhelmed you know.” replied Margaret.
Tom laughed aloud.
“No, you won’t! Of course, you’ll manage it all and very well at that. But we did think you might like a little something to keep you company? That’s why we bought this for you.”

“What is it?” Margaret immediately reached out her arms like any ten-year-old would.
She grabbed at it and felt the hard corners of the pocketbook. Hurriedly she opened it and felt its pages. There was no mistaking it.
“A diary! Oh, I love it… Thank you so much, dad!”
“You are very welcome dear,” said Tom as he bent down to hug his blind daughter.

He felt content and at peace. Life can be so wonderful sometimes.

Flash fiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox.

This week’s prompt: Write a story inspired by the making – or breaking – of a New Year’s resolution.


The sacred tree

“The great sage sat in penance of the most severe kind for a great many years. He did not break it even through torrents of rain, the harshest of heat or the most freezing cold. Pleased by his persistence, God appeared before him.

‘I am pleased with your penance. Ask for any three wishes and they will be granted.’

‘Oh Lord! I am forever humbled that you chose to appear before a lowly being like me. I cannot thank you enough. I do not seek three wishes. I only need one.’ he submitted meekly.

‘Ask so it may be granted.’

‘I wish to be immortal. But I have no desire to be a human anymore. I wish to be in a place close to you, always within your sight.’

‘So be it’ He granted.

That’s the tale of this tree. They say this is at least 500 years old – as old as the temple. Everyone coming here to worship the Lord also worships the tree. It is supposed to calm the mind and slowly encourage detaching from earthly worries to seek the Lord.” finished the guide.

“How fascinating!” I replied, turning to worship the tree.

Flash fiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox.

This week’s prompt: Prose Challenge – Tell us a story about “three wishes” in 200 words

PS: This story is entirely fictional.



Splinters of pain slashing away at life,
Shattering the meaning of my existence,
Away you walked, nonchalant.

Cracks deepen into chasms of grief,
That hope can never hope to bridge.

Poem in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. This week’s prompt:

Poetry Challenge – Write a five line poem that includes at least three of the following synonyms for “fragment”:

  • piece
  • splinter
  • snippet
  • particle
  • break
  • shatter
  • fracture
  • disintegrate
  • crack


I walked past the shadows in the park; decorated with the sprinkles of autumn. The same park that had seared itself into my memory and changed my life forever. A remnant of an old thrill passed through my spine, and I cursed it. I hated thrills now.

I hurried past it to the street, searching for the house that had dominated my dreams for 20 years.

I hesitated for just a moment before knocking and waited, for what?

She opened the door, catching her breath, holding it for support. I could see her rummage through her memories, peering into my face.

“Mom,” I said softly as a tear trickled down her wrinkled face.

Flash fiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. Thank you, Sammi!

This week’s challenge.

Write a story in exactly 113 words that begins in the photo above.  Where you go from there is up to you.





Dangerous thing

My mouth salivated, my senses tingled. It consumed me as I consumed it.

“How is it?” she asked.

“OK” I replied, careful not to let her know.

Dangerous thing, making the wife feel in control.

Microfiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. Thank you, Sammi. This week’s challenge

Prose Challenge – Write a story in 35 words, inspired by the theme of taste, without actually including the word “taste” in it.




The hollow

Some primal instinct of survival must have surged through my body. There is no other explanation for how I could have run so far into the woods.

I could be dead. I will be dead if caught. Run!!!

This singular thought electrified my exhausted legs.

I glanced back when I thought I had lost them. In that moment of folly, the entire world came crashing in a heap of green and blue and brown. I tripped over a tree root and fell on my face.

Fear overwhelmed me. Trembling, I struggled to get up. That’s when it caught my eye – that wide gaping hollow at the base of the guilty tree; strangely dark.

The sound of approaching footsteps spurred me to dive into the hollow. Refusing to breathe, I inched forward to flatten myself against its inside wall. On reaching it, I let out an involuntary yelp; the wall was ice cold, in the middle of the tropical forest.

I panicked. Surely they had heard me now! Confused and desperate, I searched for any means of escape. That’s when I saw the mark of a human palm on the wall. Would it open, if I touched it? With no time to decide, I had no choice. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than a violent death. I placed my hand on the wall.

I have been here ever since. Over the years, I have often looked back at that moment of desperation. Every single time, I regret placing my hand.

Flash fiction in response to Weekend Writing prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. Thank you so much, Sammi! This week’s prose challenge.

Write a story with a maximum word count of 250 words that tells the story of a character or group of characters who discover a secret doorway.  Your story must include the following elements:

  • a description of the secret doorway
  • an explanation of how the doorway was discovered
  • a firm decision to either go through the doorway or not



I told the police what I knew. I had been awakened by a loud cry from the next door at about 11 in the night. I had rushed there to find her stabbed; with a letter clutched in her hand. Someone obviously wanted her dead.

It was on the news later that day. I finally got to know what was in that letter.

“Forensics will tell you this is a murder. Please don’t go looking for a killer… The truth, though hard to believe, is that I, the future self, have killed myself, the present self.
I have no other option right now. People, evil ones, know that I have invented this machine; but they don’t know how it works – yet. They are keeping me captive and are torturing me every day. I can’t let it get in their hands… I don’t know of any other means of escape.”

Word Count: 148

Flash fiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. This week’s challenge:

Write a story in 150 words that is set in both the day and the night or mentions both the sun and the moon



The longest journey


It had been the longest journey. I fell onto the bench next to me, exhausted; but only for a few moments. It had been ages since we met, but now that I had finally escaped my world, the urgency to meet him increased with every moment.

I got up and glided along as fast as I could over the green grass, unfeeling it. The gray skies poured down all around me trying to blur my vision. But I continued, relentless, till I reached his threshold. I hesitated. Would he recognize me? I had nothing on me; not even my body.

Word count: 100

Flash fiction in response to Weekend writing prompt hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox. This week’s word prompt: Resting

Prose Challenge – Write a story in 100 words that includes three elements from the photo prompt (e.g. bench, pylon and trees, or grass, sky and bench, etc).



The seeds


At the beginning, God gave Humans an assortment of seeds and said, “What you sow, you reap”. Humans began to sow seeds of intolerance and distrust and reaped bumper crops of hatred. Every person consumed the brews of the addictive crop and turned God’s loving creation into hell’s outpost.

Tired of man’s folly, HE then said “How you sow, you reap” and handed them just one type of seed that no one had seen before. Everyone sowed the seeds and hoped it would turn out to be a crop of their liking. They sowed with desire, with doubt, with prayers. But no one reaped anything – except for one. She had sowed the seeds with acceptance and knew that she would love the harvest no matter what as it was a God given gift. She raised crops of love in abundance. It was the only one that sustained life thereon.

Word Count: 149

Flash fiction in response to Weekend writing Challenge hosted by the lovely Sammi Cox.

The challenge “Write a story that focuses on a quality that you think the world could do with in abundance.  Word limit: 150 words”




The empty canvas


He wondered. Art begins with an empty canvas. But can an empty canvas itself be art? When people can see cats and dogs in clouds; the rainbow in oil; what would they see in an empty canvas?

Some saw his audacity, some his foolishness. Some though seemed to find meaning.

Word count: 50

Microfiction in response to Weekend Writing Prompt hosted by Sammi Cox.

Prose Challenge – Write a 50 word story inspired by the image above.  What is it? A blank screen edged in static? A chalkboard with no writing on it?  The strange view out of a window, perhaps from a spaceship?  You tell us.

Bonus point for including any of the following words: emptiness, void, or abyss.


The message

Why is it? Now that I am a few moments from death, the only thing I can see is the color. Perhaps, it is only fitting – for it has dominated me for decades. I remember how it first crept into my wardrobe in college and then slowly colonized it by the time I was done. It represented my reason for existence, my path, my message… Well, there is nothing else to do now but to keep repeating the message.

Dear Lord! Please accept this white flag of surrender. Thy will be done. You think of it.

Word Count: 97

Flash fiction in response to hosted by Weekend writing prompt Sammi Cox.

The challenge:  Pick a saying that has a color in it (green as envy, seeing red, blue murder, not black and white, etc) and write a story about it, using no more than 100 words.