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.

Love all

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As she walked through the streets to the city center, countless more people joined her, silently. Many were holding candles, including her father, whose hand she was holding.

On reaching, she climbed the stage and raised her hand-drawn placard proclaiming “Love”. The gathering clapped.

She spoke. “Today I am ten years old. It was also on this day a year back that I became a cripple. As a lone survivor, many say I am a miracle… I am not sure of that. What I am sure of though, is that if I am walking here today, it is because of the love that you have all shown me; your letters and cards. Thank you so much…. On my last birthday, I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grow up. Today though, I know. I want to grow up to be a policewoman; be able to protect people from dying and losing their limbs in terror attacks. I want to protect all, who like you, are wonderful, loving people.”


Flash fiction in response to FFfAW hosted by Priceless Joy.

The stranger

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

Dying alone is the worst curse. He had been dead for three days before I realized I hadn’t seen him. We had hardly known each other. Just a nod of the head as I passed his home. But still, I felt miserable. I had to do something for him. So what if he was dead?

I decided to help clean his apartment. The little there was enough to tell me that he liked flowers and the color red; collected chopsticks. I also found a pair of old, cobwebbed shoes. That meant, he wasn’t born a cripple… I wonder, what happened?

Word count: 100


Flash fiction in response to Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff.

Always trust the captain

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Photo credit: Dorothy

The feeling of liberation I get every time I cycle is priceless! It helps me tune out of the noise in my head and tune into the melody of nature. I love the mystery of the day’s performance. Would I be enthralled by the wheels crunching gravel or its steady hum over tarmac? Would I be greeted with a chilling breeze or a gentle warmth?

Over the past year though, I have come to realize that this joy of weightlessness is not because of these enchantments. The real reason is that I have learned to give up my need to control and blindly put my trust in another. I cannot tell you what an exhilarating feeling it is to feel completely protected by the caption! As a stoker, all I need to do is pedal, obey, relax, listen and feel.

Every time I cycle now, I am ever grateful for having found the Tandem Club.

Word Count: 154


Flash fiction in response to FFfAW hosted by Priceless Joy.


Captain: The front rider who pedals and steers. Stoker: Rear rider.

Some tidbits on tandem cycling.