Stories...and some

Some of my 55 word stories...

Language

1. You made me feel like poetry – one without rhyme but beautiful. You turned us into a love letter – unreasonable but passionately true to heart. With you I exploded, like graffiti on the wall – bold, chaotic, rebellious. Our conversation ended and I remained – a jumble of unsaid words, unexpressed desires– waiting for the story to end

2. Our eyes met, held, danced. Our fingers entwined – spoke volumes. The chilled pints of beer we shared created an intoxicating story. The words swirled around us on the balcony that night. Fate whispered a challenge….and we fell. Into each other, out of reality. Moments silently stolen before sunrise came – speaking the language of the mundane.

Clandestine

The darkness of the night accentuated the sparkle of anticipation in her eyes. Their union would be magic – she knew it even though she was a novice to these things. Finally, gathering up courage, she lifted a trembling hand – and her mother’s kohl pencil secretly met her 16 year old eyes for the first time.

Monsoon

It was time to reveal his true colours. He had been sober way too long. He had skills he wanted to show off. Woo the ladies with. He knew none of them could resist his style. This rain dance was the perfect time to strut his stuff. Decision made, the peacock stepped out, feathers unfurled.

Letters
 

The kids crowded together, giggling, sticking their tongues out to catch the last raindrops. ‘Let’s, make paper boats!’ exclaimed one. Seeing them hunt for paper, Samay handed them a crumpled sheet – and watched as the tiny boat floated down the storm drain. His first love letter, scorned by her, had at least found some purpose. 

Gods and Demons

Everyone loved him. A well-respected doctor, his was a story of high birth, valuable connections and a spotless life sans secrets. Or so everyone thought. They never knew about nights like these when he let his dark side take over. Gulping down the potion, Dr. Jekyll smiled at his reflection in the mirror and waited.

Job/Work
 

Married for three years, they seemed the perfect couple. But their lavish home hid a story. Of her torrid affair with his best friend; and the bitterness of betrayal he carried within. They executed the motions of marriage perfectly. But this relationship was now a chore, to be ticked off on their daily to-do list.

Cafe

She was worried. He had never been this late before. Everyone always said you could set your watch by him. Plus he loved his Sunday morning dates with her. He had to turn up. And so the corner seat in that small café waited for her 70 year-old companion. She never heard about the heart-attack.

Poison:

She had grown up dreaming about love and Mr. Perfect. But years passed and all she had to show for it was a lonely existence. Finally, unable to bear it anymore, she took matters into her own hands. “I really hope fairy-tales come true,” was her last thought as the poisoned apple did its work.

Space/Spaces

“God! I can’t stay here. It’s a dump. What kind of a house does not have a balcony?!” She walked out in a huff, her husband scurrying behind her. Her high heels clicked down the stairs and out the door, crossing a wizened, old man sleeping curled under the staircase. His home for three years.