Love: Short Term

Now she knew what Love is. Three months ago, silent voices of frustration echoed in her mind. The search for a permanent solution from past many years was still on. Long walks under the moon light continued giving her courage. But till when she should depend upon patience?

A hope that things will be alright, she focused on herself. Her professional life was more of a burden but her hobbies made that easy. Strength training early in the morning, writing blog and evening walks. A schedule she maintained and followed along with the three activities which were her life.

Heartily she had been confiding all her feelings to the celestial body since the day she understood her parents were managing their relationship somehow. Considered Moon to be her only friend, she shared all her problems and together they would find the solution. Her girlfriends were equal to nothing when she found out that they were jealous of her and gave her advices which complicated her life. Why? She never asked and got herself free by cutting them off from her life.

The desperation overpowering her controlled emotions was igniting frustration. Desire of being physically attached bloomed when she saw a charming guy staring at her. There were 11 people in the café that day including the three waiters and the accountant. Sitting at the left corner table diagonal to hers, he signalled by his hand to ask for if he could join her. She innocently agreed with a nod and the conversation started. His blue eyes took away her heart but her mind poked to wait as she was aware of the current scenario and her observation power was good.

Two three meetings converted to satisfaction of physical needs, which she was desperately waiting for. He made her feel comfortable, a warmth she felt and his way of treating her made her to assume he loved her which she wanted but he was not the right guy. Two months of togetherness came to an end when he rejected to meet her every time she asked him. She then dropped the idea of meeting him ever and straightened her spine to focus on priorities.

Coffee in hand, after a month at the same café, she thought about her seriousness towards the guy and the web of love one romantically weaves. Her long walk after coffee, she discussed the same with the Moon and concluded that one can find Love for short periods as well. Lying in bed she wondered how many hearts he must have won.

©Kritika

This is Novembers FURIOUS FICTION story which I wrote. Not the best of what I wanted to write. Its just I don’t know what. I did not like the story this time. I guess its part of the process of learning.

Note from the Author
Copyright 2020 (All rights reserved)
Copying of the content and image is not permissible. The writers put in their souls in writing a piece of literature. A prior permission of the author of the blog is mandatory before using the content or the image (which has been created by the author of the blog).

A Female Thief

“Mr. Rich has not left the bookstore since last two nights. What do you think is he up to? The curiosity is killing me. Wonder what the problem is. Has his wife kicked him out of home?” Mr. Pen said to Mr. Pencil who was relaxing inside a beautifully carved wooden pen stand. Mr. Pencil added, “The aroma of creamy delicious coffee too has not left the bookstore and have you noticed the fast food he is ordering for lunch? Wish I had a human body.” Mr. Pen had always kept track of everything about Mr. Rich. He was aware about the fights between him and his wife but they never lead to this extent that he had to live in bookstore for two nights straight. 

Engrossed in finding the answer to his own question, Mr. Pen had started speaking his mind in words,” Is he hiding here? From his wife or his parents? He must have not picked the kids from school on time or he must have been drinking a lot. But he is engaged in reading Tin Tin. What is going on?” Mr. Pencil, “Leave it to him. It is his bookstore let him do whatever he wants. You relax. Don’t be a detective. Sleep it is twelve. Look for answers tomorrow. Do not disturb me now. Good night“.

Around 3 am, Mr. Pen heard footsteps, the first time he thought he was dreaming, the second time he thought it must be Mr. Rich. Just to be sure, he opened his eyes and saw a girl with backpack tip toeing towards the music section. Waking Mr. Pencil, Mr. Pen pointed his finger towards the girl, amazed Mr. Pencil, “Who is she? What is she doing here at this hour?” Mr. Pen started yelling,” A thief, a female thief…” Mr. Pencil annoyed by his behaviour hushed him, “Are you nuts? We are not humans. Mr. Rich can’t hear us. You will turn me deaf.” Mr. Pen,” Do something. You are clever. Wake him up.” Mr. Pencil,” Okay. I get your concern. But seriously we cannot do anything. You are just a pen and I am just a pencil. Hey wait, Mr. Rich is awake. He will surely get her”.

Mr. Pen attentively saw Mr. Rich turning on the lights after he noticed a shadow and with swift movements grabbed both her hands. Mr. Pencil told Mr. Pen, “He already knew someone was stealing books. This is what made him stay at the bookstore. I overheard Mr. Rich talking over phone, today evening, about the bookstore thefts going around this area. Though I remember she came yesterday wearing a beige coloured sweatshirt with her aunt. Right?” Mr. Pen agreed.

After calling the police, Mr. Rich asked her the reason for this grubby game. She told him nothing apart from her name, Ms. Nameless. Police arrived and thanked Mr. Rich for solving this latest crime. The girl and the policemen left the bookstore. Mr. Pen with no doubts slept peacefully.

©Kritika

This short story I wrote for Furious Fiction for the month of October 2019 which I could not submit. Let me know how is it.

Note from the Author
Copyright 2020 (All rights reserved)
Copying of the content and image is not permissible. The writers put in their souls in writing a piece of literature. A prior permission of the author of the blog is mandatory before using the content or the image (which has been created by the author of the blog).

Rusty Sports Car

Under the plastic shade
Depressed old age speaks
The once shiny skin is now dull
Young memories appear once asleep

Masculine seducing body
Hardly left untouched by any woman
Sporty genre was honour
Photographs with awards in journals

Talks about the ferocious speed
Everywhere my victory applauded
Brands waiting for meetings
Passion for work rewarded

Now the gear box is rusty
Inside and outside is dusty
Four legs have lost their speed
Story of those golden days is a dream

“Sports car is expressing his grief to his hatch back car friend Reed”

©Kritika

Note from the Author
Copyright 2020 (All rights reserved)
Copying of the content and image is not permissible. The writers put in their souls in writing a piece of literature. A prior permission of the author of the blog is mandatory before using the content or the image (which has been created by the author of the blog).