The pen shook in her hands and a part of her wished the court would reject the papers because of the garbled signatures. So far, she had assumed she did not care anymore but it seemed like she did.
He was wearing dark glasses indoors, she was sure, to hide the emotions in his eyes. If only he would stop her just once, she would relent.
But he took the pen and signed with shaking hands, setting both of them ‘free’.
“The boy at the shop across the road keeps staring at our house and smiles whenever I come to the window. Yesterday, I slapped him for that. I am not that kind of girl.”
She repeated her story for the tenth time and looked out of her window at the shop with evident pride. The boy was smiling while he stared at another house. Her face fell.
After hiding beneath the bed for half an hour, he whispered, “Do you think it’s gone?”
Teddy bear replied, “Not sure. Want me to find out?”
He helped Teddy peak out from under the bed. Teddy said in a bright voice, “Yup! Gone! I told you, you needn’t worry while I am around.”
He hauled his 26-year-old frame out from under the bed. “I was just being cautious! You can’t beat all of them.”
She: “Wow! So, you have been to 10 cities and 7 schools in 18 years? Isn’t that amazing! I wish I could leave this city too. How does that feel?”
Me: “Lonely…”
She doesn’t call us often now. Mostly, she just texted. She was ‘too busy to call at the regular hours’.
Somehow, we didn’t buy it. Her text had just too many smileys.
Worth a read!
By Neil Clark
When you were in space, you told me the thing you missed most about Earth was the morning dew.
I spent the next decade threading our garden with a thousand webs, tall and broad as the house. I became an expert in 3D light displays. Rigged them so they’d catch the droplets perfectly.
On your first night back, you were quiet, like you were worried your words hadn’t adjusted to gravity.
You slept for eighteen hours and when you woke up at dawn, you went to the middle of the lawn and wept about how you already missed the stars.
“I write to surprise myself.” – the author
By the time it was dusk, he was tired of hiding in the old warehouse. He had looked for shapes in the peeling paint of the walls all day. Now that the hall was darkening, he was a little spooked, not that he would ever admit it.
Suddenly he found a shape resembling a face of a man clutching something. Was it a knife?
He looked away trying to curb the guilt and dread rising in his chest, only to find one that resembled a woman dead on the floor.
Suddenly, the peeling paint that was her hand moved slightly.
He clutched his heart and died…
“It’s alright, dear! The pain would end soon.” Hamish consoled Heera.
Heera was too ill to work… ever. People had suggested Hamish to sell him to a butcher and get some money to buy another Ox. But Hamish loved him as a brother. They had been together for nearly eleven years, transporting goods on their ox-drawn cart for a living.
Once Heera died, Hamish would have no one to pull his cart but he would think about that later. Right now, holding Heera’s head in his lap, he prayed for his pain to end. Only when Heera’s eyes went glassy, did Hamish allow his tears to fall.
-Dedicated to all who have loved and lost
Year 1920
“Of course we don’t send our daughter to school. Who will marry her then?”
Year 2020
“We are sending her for a professional degree. Helps in finding good grooms.”
Year 3020
“Yes, she is in the team flying to Planet Isis. Heard there are many bachelors over there.”
“The monsters looked like a small grey mountains.”
“They had large wings where ears should be and a hand in place of nose that they used to pick and throw us around.”
“As His Majesty Alexander’s war horse, I had believed nothing in the world could scare me but the war cry of these ‘Alifants’ sent chill up my spines.”
“I’m glad we returned after that encounter on the banks of river Indus. I don’t think we could have survived one more.”
-Survivor stories by His Majesty Alexander’s war horses
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 