My Submissions for Fictember 2020
The writers of my small writing community chose to embark on a microfiction writing journey with me on 1st September 2020.
This post started it:
I got some support and a few encouraging private messages.
Fictember as a challenge was on!
We were going to participate in thirty days of micro-fiction writing.
It began!
Stated below are all my stories. It was excruciatingly tough for me as a nonfiction writer to write fiction. I still did it!
Yay!
Without further ado, here are the stories.
Microfiction for Thirty Day - Fictember 2020
Prompt for Day 1: Ayla loves sunflowers. She always has. Her fiancé brought her a bouquet of roses.
Courtesy: Binati Sheth
He is supposed to be the one.
Why then does it not feel perfect?
Why does she not feel complete?
She is jerked out of her melancholy when Sawako pulls up to her house with a single sunflower in her hand.
Before she could process her feelings, Aaron, her fiancé pulled into the driveway with a bouquet of roses.
Ayla has always loved sunflowers.
She glanced at the gorgeous roses and the lone sunflower.
She knew why!
Prompt for Day 2: Pick any cat from the collage, infuse a season (the 4 seasons or festive season), and write a story.
Courtesy: Rashmi Agrawal
Ayla remembers meeting Aaron when the maple leaves were swaying gently, casting lush, verdant hues to each memory she has about them.
"...what was it," she mumbles, "yes!"
When the leaves changed into a fiery amber blur, Aaron had picked up an infuriating habit of gazing at her through his iconic shades. Sighing deeply, Ayla had to chastise him.
"You know," she said, on a particularly antsy day, "it is not polite to stare, Aaron."
His mouth then curled playfully, and his eyes shone with laughter.
"Things I want to do Ayla; they aren't polite."
Their relationship was in its nascent stage. Like the carmine maple outside, Ayla's cheeks had flamed.
How many seasons ago was that, she wondered.
A soft breeze comes through her window then, gently reminding Ayla about her choice.
Why was she dredging the past?
"Ah yes! the cat... it looks a lot like Aaron."
Darth Meowl had found his new home, just when the maple outside sprouted it first leaf in a while.
Prompt for Day 3: I took a trip to <country you don't live in>, and I met someone who told me something that changed my life in the blink of an eye."
Courtesy: Geoff Woliner
I took a trip to Hel. I had to... I met someone who told me something that changed my life in the blink of an eye.
"Go to Hel," the old woman whispered ominously, "rid yourself of this curse!"
The desolate scenery of the place welded the despair and the power she felt.
He was dead, as he was supposed to be.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she waded deeper into the river. The pearlescent water had a trail of grey leading up to the woman, her tranquil silhouette looking as if it was ensconced in a block of bewitching marble.
She finally smiled.
...
As the flames licked his body, he realised there was no putting the fire out. When a skilled medic turns tricks on you, there really is no escape.
The fire gently caressed his body and covered him in its purifying veil. He was unable to stop himself from screaming, and wondering where it all irrevocably broke down.
In his agony, he sought one final revenge and uttered his dying words,
"It was never you, never could be."
Location: Helheim (Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice)
Prompt for Day 4: "The pitter patter of the rain sparkling in the gloomy sun with a splashing rainbow above me...."
Courtesy: Shanthi SR
The pitter patter of the rain sparkling in the gloomy sun with a splashing rainbow above me made me smile wistfully.
Ayla sighed in recognition of her mood and noted, “I have been a gloomy gus these past few months!”
Thoughts are all she had these days. She stared at the changing scenery outside the window, introspected for a bit, and slipped into a solemn mood that seemed to vanish only when she painted.
Sighing again, she lowered her gaze from the scenery and dipped her paintbrush in the paints she had laid out, in an effort to enhance her mood.
...and enhance it did.
Darth meowl, unlike her punny namesake loves to play with colours. He had soundlessly rolled into the paint and was now staring at Ayla with peevish eyes.
As she laughed out loud for the first time in months, Ayla couldn’t stop herself from looking at the rainbow again.
Laughter and soft purrs filled the desolate room Ayla was in.
“I am going to be alright,” Ayla smiled while tickling her furry friend, “I am not alone!”
Prompt for Day 5: When love/hatred threatens to overpower your true self.
Courtesy: Shweta
Thunderstorms fascinate Ayla. She always talked about loving them despite the looks of disapproval thrown her way.
Their uncontrollably wild fierceness always intrigued her psyche.
Until recently, she thought liking rainstorms was a bad thing.
Her stubbornness paid off. The tempest of a woman she loved was walking away.
"Say you hate me Sawako," she smirked, not caring a bit about other people around her, "I can bear your hatred for years."
She continued, finally experiencing spasms of self-acceptance, "I am never letting love or hatred overpower my true self... not anymore."
Prompt for Day 6: Write a dialogue (Not a monologue) between 2 or more characters (add your favorite historical figure to the conversation).
Courtesy: Ankur Gupta
The bitter taste of the rosy cacti tickled my throat unpleasantly. The Peyote lifted my consciousness gently while my guides hummed ancient hymns in the background.
As the starry night faded into my consciousness and blended to a contrasted mosaic of various shades of green and purple, all I could do was mumble, "I have to find him... Leo... I need to talk to Leo of Vinci."
"He loved carmine," I uttered incomprehensibly, "why is his astral plane not carmine?"
Then I saw a young man wearing comically loose robes, sitting pensively next to a book that looked suspiciously like the unreadable Voynich manuscript.
"Leonardo, talk to me..."
"No."
"Please talk to me, Leo?"
"Painting is poetry which is seen and not heard, and poetry is a painting which is heard but not seen. These two arts, you may call them both either poetry or painting, have here interchanged the senses by which they penetrate to the intellect."
"Umm... that's from Trattato della pittura," I whined, "Tell me something real."
"Seeing that I can find no subject specially useful or pleasing — since the men who have come before me have taken for their own every useful or necessary theme — I must do like one who, being poor, comes last to the fair, and can find no other way of providing himself than by taking all the things already seen by other buyers, and not taken but refused by reason of their lesser value. I, then, will load my humble pack with this despised and rejected merchandise, the refuse of so many buyers; and will go about to distribute it, not indeed in great cities, but in the poorer towns, taking such a price as the wares I offer may be worth... enough?"
After a brief pause, I could just smile. I laughed actually. His left eyebrow raised slightly because he didn't anticipate the laughter. He opened his mouth, but I raised my hand to stop him from saying anything more.
"You always had a thing about monologues, didn't you?" I continued giggling while he rolled his eyes.
"I spill my heart to you woman, and this is the response I get?"
There was an edge of dry humour in his tone. He didn't have to say anything else really, did he?
I gave him a small smile and the scene faded back to twinkling stars and chanting natives.
The trip had been worth it.
Prompt for Day 7: You are passing by an ice cream shop.
Courtesy: Sheza Mustasim
"These creatures are weird," thought Xinger.
Why would they want to lick something that is a cold solid, and yet it's wet and slimy.
He glanced again at the artificial smelling blob of florescent pink. As he passed by what they called an Ice cream Shop, he noted into a sleekly cut slab of translucent green rock, "This food is definitely not for nutrition."
After mentally going through his observations, he stated his recommendation with an air of finality.
"They eat non-nutritious objects for what they call pleasure and social media challenges. To conduct internal analysis of the creatures in bulk, I recommend adulterating this fast food they eat with philon-sensors. We will then know the secrets of these happy creatures and become them."
"Soon," thought Xinger, "he will know what an ice cream tastes like."
Prompt for Day 8: Eliza it's not done, you should have warned me...
Courtesy: Rishi Jaiswal
The tiny, shiny stones twinkled in the glare of the lights in their room.
"Well, butter my ass and call me toast, Eliza," Mark huffed, after a shocked pause.
"You're mad! Why are you mad? I am your wife. I am allowed to change the decor."
"You are ... allowed to make changes, but this... Eliza, it's not done; you should have warned me... You should have warned me before you bedazzled our entire bookshelf."
Eliza shrugged her shoulders and continued gluing the sequins to every blank surface she could find.
Her life might be boring, her bookshelf however wasn't.
Mark can bark as much as he wants.
Prompt for Day 9: A dialogue between at least 2 characters. A surprise extra individual enters into and participates in the dialogue discussing how ‘death is imminent and there is nothing you can do to prevent it.’
Courtesy: Mel Cyrille
“Death is imminent and there is nothing you can do to prevent it, Sara.”
“Death is not imminent. I mean we don’t know where science will take us, Donna.”
The two sisters sat glaring at each other by the slab of engraved marble which marked their mother’s gravestone.
Sara, generally the calmer of the two was still in the rage phase. Debilitating loss comes in various shades. Donna on the other hand was willing to take on her sister’s anger, just to have something else to think about.
Standing solemnly at the back, Jack just sighed. He had to intervene before the verbal discourse turns into a full-on diatribe.
“Death is imminent but then it also gives meaning to life. Can we focus on that please?”
Eyes that had sparks flying previously suddenly averted in realisation.
“He’s right, the brat!”
Prompt for Day 10: Use the phrase ‘Gone are the days when...’ in a theatre setting with at least one animal making an appearance.
Courtesy: Janki Insan
Sigh
“I will never get used to this,” muttered Reena as she stared at the gigantic human in the hideous cat costume.
She had a sour look on her face as she stared at Myron in the garish ensemble.
“You know Reena…gone are the days when actual animals were allowed on the stage. Blame the dipsticks who abuse animals for this one.”
“How are you okay with wearing this Myron when you have an actual cat is in your dressing room.
As if on cue, Meowlet entered through the theatre’s left stage entrance. Just like Reena, the appearance of her human baffled her.
“Meow,” purred the tabby as Reena scratched that spot behind her ear.
“It is a theatre production for Cats, Reena. I have to look like...a cat.”
Reena didn’t really care anymore. The cat nestled in her lap... was enough for now.
Prompt for Day 11: “That moment changed everything."
Courtesy: Ana-Maria Ignat-Berget
Looking at the empty container of rice she prepared for her family provided Sawako with the clarity she was looking for.
“They don’t really care about me, do they,” she realised, “what will Sawako eat never really crossed their mind.”
As her stomach gurgled with hunger and suppressed rage, the haze of conditioning lifted gently.
Staring at the solitary grain of rice stuck to her porcelain serving bowl, Sawako couldn’t stop thinking.
She almost smirked when she realised the moment that changed everything for her will be an empty bowl of rice.
Prompt for Day 12: Music Is Life (Pick any song you like and write a story with it.)
Courtesy: Nada Abdelhadi
"Jack... I was singing. I am sure she saw me singing Jack!"
"Okay... You were singing what?"
"The song where the opera singers meow continuously?"
"Yes... Yes Jack, that song."
"Umm Aaron... I am sure that went down with as much eloquence as a feral cat on fire."
"What do I do now?"
"Own it!"
"Own it?"
"OWN IT my meowbulous friend."
"You are teasing me Jack."
"What else am I supposed to do? I am your friend."
Prompt for Day 13: Walk down the memory lanes, choose an incident from your past and weave a story (Sci-fi).
Courtesy: Rashmi Agrawal
Prompt for Day 14: You discover that you are the first person in the world who can use magic; actual magic.
Courtesy: Binati Sheth
Reference quote:
“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic”
- Arthur C. Clarke
Clara looked at the sleeping people in her vicinity. The sharp glare of the screen and the chilled environment of the room doesn’t bother her. She also enjoys watching people sleep from behind the safety of a screen.
Bionic Intensive Sleep Care (BISC) was working well. It was having the intended effect of healing people in their sleep.
“Why then,” she wondered, “are these patients immune to the treatment? Is it that shadow again… the one that I saw in Nanami’s dream sequence?”
The bead of sweat trickled down her chin. Legally speaking, if she got caught entering her patient’s dream, she would be stripped off her credentials and imprisoned. She was on thin ice as is after entering Nanami’s dreams.
Entering the code into the panel, she lifted the black headband shaped object and adjusted it to her temple.
“Hold tight,” she thought as a banshee wail sounded off at the back of her brain.
As she pushed past the haze of the dreams she was invading and flew across the entire common interface, she looked from left and right and stopped abruptly when she spotted it; the wispy shadow that seemed to be eating something.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noted how one tree appeared dented and had some type of grease leaking out of it. She was so focussed on the details and yet still apparently unaware of the pursuing demon.
The Baku had spotted her and would eat her, just like that girl who called herself Nanami.
She heard a popping sound and saw some flashes of light. Before she could react, the monster latched onto her throat as darkness began engulfing her.
Suddenly, everything was bright again.
Mark had come in at the right time, severing the darkness like a blade.
“I thought I created a technology, Mark,” she sighed, “it’s not supposed to have monsters.”
Prompt for Day 15: Weave a story around a supernatural event. It must include a mysterious dagger.
Courtesy: Amrita Pathak
The kitten had started following her around since the day he died.
She believed in love, redemption, affection, reincarnation, and that everyone had a soulmate somewhere.
“Right… we met on a day like this at the Five Country Summit. We fell in love and then he died.”
The amusing conversation that started their saga was still fresh in her memory.
“So… your secretary… she leaves quite the impression. I hear she tried to kill you.”
He cleared his throat and continued staring at a mysterious dagger which had an onyx stone embedded in the hilt.
“We had a difference of opinion.”
“Ah!”
The onyx kitten meowed again yanking her to the present.
“For the love of logic, he is not the cat.”
As she gripped her purse, she wondered, “Why can’t I fall in love with someone who wants to fall in love?”
The kitten brushed against her leg and purred.
Sighing deeply, she picked up the kitten.
“I guess I will have to throw away that blasted dagger now, kitty. You definitely will hate it, no?”
Prompt for Day 16: She opened the door and gasped. Not again! This was going too far....
Courtesy: Barnali Roy
Prompt for Day 17: Set a story in any mythology you like.
Courtesy: Mac Vail
The lush greenery down under called to Demeter. The sounds of nature were beckoning her. She couldn’t resist.
She opened the door and gasped.
Not again!
This was going too far...
Hades is back at it again, asking for her daughter’s hand in marriage.
Demeter maintained a steady gaze while she just shoved the God of the Underworld out of the way. Not even this intimidating monstrosity could put a damper on a stroll through the forests with Persephone and the Nymphs.
What she didn’t account for was the fact that it was always better to be on the side of this demon than his path.
Persephone was enjoying the smells of nature when the Narcissus flower drew her attention. As she sat on the pillowy ground admiring its beauty, the ground underneath her rumbled and tore apart as if someone were pulling at the seams of a stale loaf of bread.
The chariot of Hades advanced menacingly towards her spot on the ground.
“I am kidnapping you, daughter of Demeter.”
“What?”
“You know… to be my wife!”
“You are kidnapping me to be your wife?”
“Yes? … Yes!”
“Um… You know, you are really bad at this whole evil kidnapper business.”
“Wait… I am evil?”
“These Disney people say you are.”
“I thought your mother said that.”
“No, mother just wants me at home to keep her company. She will reject all the prospects that request my hand in matrimony.”
“Okay… I am still kidnapping you though.”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yes, fine. I will be your Queen and rule the Underworld with you.”
“What! Really?”
“Yes”
“Let’s go then!”
As quickly as the ground quaked, the mighty chariot of Hades and Persephone descended into the Underworld.
Cyane the Nymph melted into a puddle of her own tears over the loss of her friend. Seeing this, Demeter knew something was amiss when she couldn’t find her daughter anywhere.
Like the melodramatic queen that she was, she moped and searched for her beautiful daughter as life around the world seemed to wither with her mood, seeing how she controlled the seasons. She didn’t particularly mind the darkness; she just didn’t like the chill that came with the haunting shadows.
“I should have made some friends,” realised Demeter, “I am too old for this shit.”
Prompt for Day 18: Make a short poem based on the image.
Courtesy: Sudeshna Thakurta
I read my book,
While the lady sleeps and the man dreams.
I lose myself in the pages,
As others gaze at my careless stance.
I spy, from the corner of my dark eyes,
Some tween blabbing into their phone.
"What a waste," I wonder.
As I go back to reading my book,
My gorgeously macabre book about 'The Sleeping Man'.
Prompt for Day 19: A murder has happened in a kitchen.
Courtesy: Rashmi Agrawal
Prompt for Day 20: Unleash your creativity and craft with two of your favourite stars (Real person, alive/dead, any gender/age, from across the world) from different niches on an exciting/dangerous adventure together (space travel, natural calamities, alien attack, etc.,) while using, ‘I told you so’ and ‘If only I could’ – at least once.
Courtesy: Sharmila Bharadwaj
Scarlett Johansson had been murdered. It was on all the TV networks.
Chris paused over his boost-me-up cup of coffee as her smiling face materialized on the widescreen wall-mounted LED TV in a brilliant splash of colors. Scarlett Johansson, the leading diva of Hollywood, had been murdered in her kitchen.
Chris sighed. No doubt, he would be roped into this pretty soon.
Everyone knew that he was a childhood friend of the actress. His secret got out when two years ago, his photo featuring the actress arm-in-arm with her husband, and him off to the side in the customary position of a close-friend-of-the-bride got snapped.
What everyone didn't know, however, was that her wedding had also been the last time he had met her. Quite understandable, since he confessed his love for her and she swat him off like a random fly.
What wasn't quite understandable however was how little he was affected by the sudden news of her death.
What do you know, time does heal all wounds after all, huh?
"Chris," his department chief called out, "I assume you have heard the news about the criminal incident reported yesterday night?"
Who hadn't?
"Yes, Sir!"
"Then I take it you won’t mind handling the case file of this criminal investigation?"
"No, Sir."
"Good!”
Chris stared at what had until recently been a smiling flirting young woman. How strange that she was lying so still now.
A bloody and brutal death usually tended to do that to people.
He pulled out his little black book and carefully began jotting down a description of her dead body. Whoever had killed her had spared no mercy towards her pretty face. The entire right side of her face had been bludgeoned in, the caked blood and clumps of her hair morphing her face into a nightmare. The left side of her face and the rest of the body were bloated and blue – saturated with excess moisture, the cause for which was as yet unknown. Her left eye, one of a pair of those uniquely emerald eyes, had been gouged out, leaving a ghastly hollow socket behind.
Chris narrowed his eyes in distaste. It was a sad example of a cruel death.
On the pristine Italian marble flooring lay a grotesquely purple dead body, its bloated features indiscernible, its long hair trailing over the side and pooling on the white marble floor like a coil of woven gold. There was water all over the floor for some weird reason. Her clothes clung lazily around her decaying body – a pretty blue skirt and a white button-down shirt.
Chris grunted. "Where is her husband?"
"We are trying to reach him.”
“Preliminary report states how she has been dead for at least 72 hours. You are telling me her spouse hasn’t noticed how his wife is missing all this time?”
“Yes Chris, that’s what I am trying to tell you.”
“If only I could talk to you again,” wondered Chris, “I would get to be a sadist and show you how nobody really cared about you… I told you so Scar!”
He went back to work, shocked at his apathetic demeanor.
“Life goes on,” he told himself, as he splashed water on his face and went back to work.
Prompt for Day 21: "She was blind... but could see in her mind ...everything that happened around her. Her only companion who understood her dark world was a bushytailed golden-brown hare. She called him Wolfgang....and made her way into cold white smoke which engulfed her...."
Courtesy: Helen Xavier
"She was blind... but could see in her mind ...everything that happened around her. Her only companion who understood her dark world was a bushytailed golden-brown hare. She called him Wolfgang....and made her way into cold white smoke which engulfed her....", Sneha trailed off.
Her eyes fell down on the beautiful face of her child on the bed. A warm sensation spread through her heart. Her eyes calm and closed, a stout nose breathing softly, her pale cheeks hugging her plushy and the thin strip of drool running down her plump left cheek made for an adorable sight.
The chilly atmosphere outside does not match the warmth Sneha feels inside.
“My little baby…fell asleep before I could complete the story.”
Prompt for Day 22: Write whatever microfiction you want to.
Courtesy: Binati Sheth
"Where do we go when we die?"
The doctor considered this for a moment.
"Wherever dreams go when we wake up, I suppose."
"And where is that?"
"I'm not sure. I've never gone to look."
"Why not?"
"To be perfectly honest," the doctor said, "I'm not in a hurry to find out."
Prompt for Day 23: Use the word "What If" associated with desires or dreams that would give all different meaning or path to follow.
Courtesy: Sweta Mishra
A sound whispered in Shayla’s ear, like the hum of a soothing lullaby.
“What if… depression is a side effect of real-life miseries and sorrows which are experienced by alternate copies of you in parallel universes.”
The voice softened a bit more as it continued, “It’s not your fault, Shayla. Your despair is not your fault.”
The dishevelled woman lying on the messy bed had her lips curl up, even if she was still half asleep.
“Sleep is not that bad,” Shayla thought, “though, I think I’ve slept enough.”
Prompt for Day 24: Traveling through time was all fun and games... until one of us got stuck.
Courtesy: Devansh Agarwal
A cracking sound resonated in the fast-moving wagon. The Chrona wasn’t really the time travel device but it did manage the time sequence.
“Without it, I won’t be able to travel through time,” David panicked, “I will be stuck in Ancient Rome, for years.”
…two years later…
"Artista… what sort of weird art do you make with so much metal?”
David sighed because he knew the weird look that will come his way.
“This is a giant metal bird, which will fly.”
The woman continued to gaze at the device with her eager eyes, “Do you need help rebuilding it?”
“Um… no. I think I can manage.”
“Sir,” she smiled, “I know it’s a Chrona.”
"You are wiser than you seem, my lady."
Her eyebrows raised up as she pulled out two objects from her cotton bag, “I, Clara, have something to show you.”
The make and the model of her broken Chrona was older, but it could work.
“I hope your traveller cabin is working,” she spoke excitedly, “I also hope it can carry two people."
“…I don’t know. The cabin seems undamaged. I don’t think it can carry two people to my timeline though.”
"Let’s still try though.”
They started building the device using his knowledge and her skill. Unbeknownst to them, a hooligan broke into Clara’s room and stole the metallic Chrona to sell it.
He planned to sell this peculiar looking device for value. As he boarded the ship sailing to the Middle East, the device he stole made a tinkering sound.
The clock started ticking.
Prompt for Day 25: Pick your favourite book and change the ending. The plot must have both the protagonist and the antagonist in it, even if one of them is dead!
Courtesy: Pritha Sen
The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry's hand was still raised in farewell.
"He'll be alright," murmured Ginny.
As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absentmindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead.
The scar that had not pained Harry for nineteen years suddenly burned with irrepressible fury.
He was back!
Prompt for Day 26: Comedy, humour, satire or similar emotions using any one of the 5 senses: sight, smell, touch, taste, sound.
Courtesy: Rashmi Agrawal
Prompt for Day 27: You cannot die due to some reason. A serial killer targets you, and catches you. Kills you. You don’t die because you cannot die. It gets frustrated (serial killer’s gender is your choice).
Courtesy: Binati Sheth
“This stupid guy! Does he not understand what’s happening right now?”
His dull eyes lit up when the stranger brandished his weapon.
“I am trying to kill you. I have been at it for like an hour man. Do you not care that I am going to kill you?”
“Yaa, I figured that when you handcuffed me to this chair. What’s your name by the way? Mine is Jack."
Asher shakes his head and walks to his small table of tools littered with scalpels, scraping hooks, knives and what not.
Jack quips, “This room smells funny. What is this smell? I have never smelled something like this before.”
“Its dead people smell. I... uh, well, I'm going to use these tools on you to, you know, to kill you. Then that’s what you’ll smell like as well."
"Sounds like fun!" Jack exclaims. "I’d like to see you try.”
Asher then took the scalpel and took it to Jack’s jugular. The metallic scent of blood permeated the room as the blade sliced through the trapped human’s neck. This is the moment he cherished. Watching life drain out of his victims was why he lived his fantasy as a serial killer.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" he exclaimed once he saw that Jack was definitely alive and his wound seemed to be repairing.
"You have got to be…” Asher gasped once he heard the sirens. The smell of blood in the room is so strong, he swears he almost tastes it.
Jack is smiling again.
“I picked those handcuffs a while ago. I have a tracker on me seeing how I know how I fit your profile. I figured, since I can’t really die, why not use my talents to, you know, get guys like you whacked.”
The door to nondescript room burst open, flashlights swept the room and they were both quickly surrounded.
"So what?" Asher asked. " I will go to jail and live a comfy life.”
“No… you will resist arrest and you know… get killed.”
"But I..." the smell of blood flooded the room again.
A SWAT officer stepped forward, took aim, and shot Asher, the Average-Bob killer.
Jack laughed with a calm, carefree demeanour.
“Who is the serial killer now?”
Prompt for Day 28: Cover 'love and living during difficult times'.
Courtesy: Rashmi Agrawal
Prompt for Day 29: You can stop time for 30 seconds.
Courtesy: Binati Sheth
I heard it coming before I saw it. The booming sound of fired bullets made me seize in shock.
This is not how I wanted to use my thirty seconds.
Just thirty seconds.
I just had thirty seconds to stop time.
Life and love for that matter don’t always turn out how we want them to, do they!
We all knew that our Earth was on the verge of death. We also knew how a group of five Astroanthropologists had discovered a new planet where humanity will be rebooted.
The problems arose when each government announced how most people will be left behind on a world which was now an exploding timebomb. The crisis of conscience began with the protests.
That’s where I met Connie.
Connie was a fellow protester. She made me wonder what victory would mean, and what it really was that we were fighting for.
I didn’t know it was love till this moment where I thought she would be gone forever.
Thirty seconds.
I wanted to live and love for thirty seconds.
So, I did.
I used my thirty seconds to move her from the path of the flying bullets of the firing squad.
A fitting use, wouldn’t you say?
Prompt for Day 30: We are not alone.
Courtesy: Binati Sheth
The smaller creature got comfortable in the lap of the larger creature as they both gazed at the stars. A strange luminance spread through the night sky and the youngster asked a loaded question.
“Is it just us here?”
The larger creature smiled sadly, “Child, I don’t really know. The Universe is vast and it is so… different. It could be good or it could be worse. We really have no way of knowing these things.”
“Wouldn’t that be… awesome though? Having different friends all over?”
“It could be,” the wiser one replied, “but you remember school, right?”
The inquisitive kid nodded.
“All the different kids in class, some you disliked mostly because of their… difference, right?”
“Ya… but we never fought. Wouldn’t that happen with the others too?”
“There’s no rule maker like your teacher in the Universe, child. They might decide we are food or we need to be sacrificed.”
“I get it, but isn’t being alone scarier?”
“We have… each other.”
“That’s… that’s just lonely, mom, and so sad.”
The larger creature couldn’t say anything, so the deafening silence prevailed.
Did I learn something?
Of course I did!
I learned a lot about
- What I can't do.
- What I can do.
- What I can improve upon.
- Which writers I can rely on for constructive criticism.
- How writing isn't as complicated as we make it out to be.
I hope you enjoyed reading the microfictions. They aren't my best work, but I will get there. That's where the fun's at, isn't it!
Sources:
Day 1: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-microfiction-activity-6706625703665819648-yq4w
Day 2: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-activity-6706978506007486464-Zqbw
Day 3: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-activity-6707332555508645888-HU5W
Day 4: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-activity-6707695246815371264-EiP3
Day 5: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-activity-6708009198996791296-APwv
Day 6: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-day-6-activity-6708586070973460480-Nwdc
Day 7: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-activity-6709160344658464768-Pnr5
Day 8: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-activity-6709165221816123392-goRK
Day 9: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-fictionwriting-writingcommunity-activity-6709918816178118656-2396
Day 10: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-fictionwriting-writingcommunity-activity-6710075669088407552--eOR
Day 11: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-fictionwriting-writingcommunity-activity-6710230070318944256-LOAY
Day 12: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-writingcommunity-fictionwriting-activity-6710639846043516928-mZf5
Day 13: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_day-13-and-day-14-activity-6711416187735175168-dTvD
Day 14: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_day-13-and-day-14-activity-6711416187735175168-dTvD
Day 15: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-fictionwriting-writingcommunity-activity-6711699049893949441-O90f
Day 16: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-1617-binati-sheth-activity-6712526303322525696-J154
Day 17: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-1617-binati-sheth-activity-6712526303322525696-J154
Day 18: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-poemoftheday-writingcommunity-activity-6712920210040516608-nN1E
Day 19: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_day-19-20-fictember-binati-sheth-activity-6713548735529443329-42OE
Day 20: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_day-19-20-fictember-binati-sheth-activity-6713548735529443329-42OE
Day 21: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-writingcommunity-fictionwriting-activity-6714031234659483648-bQpS
Day 22: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-writingcommunity-writerlife-activity-6714038689921597440-lqXG
Day 23: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-fictionwriting-writingcommunity-activity-6714636898964439040-W99L
Day 24: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-binati-sheth-activity-6715046074777698304-JjFc
Day 25: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-fiction-fanfiction-activity-6715369696696307712-mBAM
Day 26: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_day-26-day-27-fictember-binati-sheth-activity-6716213199991058432-SmeO
Day 27: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_day-26-day-27-fictember-binati-sheth-activity-6716213199991058432-SmeO
Day 28: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-microfiction-activity-6716755388357857280-FlQV
Day 29: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-microfiction-activity-6716755388357857280-FlQV
Day 30: https://www.dhirubhai.net/posts/binatisheth_fictember-fictionwriting-activity-6716986036171390976-wSmr
Freelance Copywriter (Tech, HR, & Market Research) ?? Creative Writing Mentor to Kids ?? Manuscript Evaluator ?? Fiction Writer
4 年Wow, the consistency. I read all those I missed earlier. And I enjoyed the serial killer's story the most. And the last one with 30 sec.