The Kiwi fruit smelled divine. For the hundredth time, she looked at the price tag–more than half a dollar for a single fruit!
She thought of her children and 90-dollar-a-month salary. She sighed and continued restocking the fruits in the display for those who could afford.
Looking at the mirror, she wondered what she had done to deserve the fate. People were petrified when they first looked at her, averted their eyes and avoided her the best they could.
Even a monster deserved love; but she would always be alone and that made her angry and murderous…
“Hey Girl!”
(Silence)
“What’s wrong?”
(Silence)
“I hope you did not give in to your mother’s threat. She thinks marrying a man will ‘cure’ you. But if you can’t bear the touch…”
(A gasp and silence)
“Look, I know! The entire group knows and we are okay!”
(A sigh and silence)
“I have a spare room if your mother doesn’t understand.”
(After a long silence) “Can you call an ambulance, fast?”
-Based on a true story
The greatest pain of old age…
By Hayley Reese Chow
I smile and tell the doctors I’m fine—no more voices, no hallucinations.
But in the darkness, I settle into my frayed armchair and wait. I twist the wedding band around my liver-spotted finger as the silence of the empty house stuffs my ears. Finally, I feel her butterfly touch alight on my shoulder.
“Frank, won’t you come to bed?” she coos. My damp eyes close as I savor the sound.
They say it’s an old mind’s delusion, but she feels real to me. So, the shadows keep my secret while the world sleeps, and I sit with my ghosts.
“I work numbers during the day and spill sentences in the wee hours of the night. Words that sit in the soul only go sour, and writing is the cheapest therapy there is.” – the author
Before I met you, I wondered why I existed
As life dragged along slowly.
After I found you, I wondered if it was worth
The pain you caused each day.
Once I walked out of your door
I truly found a purpose: My ‘Self’.
She felt a stab of jealousy as her husband eyed a man with a longing he would never have for her.
If only the world was more resilient to people like him, she would have had a chance at love too.
-Based on true stories
‘Right’ and ‘wrong’ are relative terms. We live in a world where people drive on the right side of the road in some places and on the left in the others.
When I started blogging last year, I was a writer struggling to understand what to say and how to say it with zero knowledge of how to run a blog.
After one year, I am still clueless about how to run a blog but at least I am clear about what I wish to say and how I would say it–Found my niche’. So it’s a good start.
While reading other blog I realised why I am doing it– to converse with people who are NOT my family or close friends, because talking to strangers often brings more clarity in life than looking in the mirror.
As usual, he went to her cafe, asked for a pastry and sat there hoping she would notice him. It had been three months ever since the shop opened and she was always too busy to talk.
As usual, she brought his pastry to the table, unusually late though. She had decorated the icing on the top with tiny roses… and her phone number!
The anticipation made his hands moist and mouth dry. He felt unprepared as he slowly covered the space between the two galaxies to reach her home across the road from his.
She, the daughter of a Hindu…
He, the son of a Mohammadan…
-Dedicated to W
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 