#review
#Aarushi
#Story
#experience
Due to some reasons that I'd rather not tell, I started to learn bicycle a little late, with my elder brother's bicycle. It would be scary at first, the fear of falling and getting hurt. But later on, when I became comfortable with cycles, I enjoyed riding them a lot. I observed some changes in myself as well, I was more observant, enough to see those little flowers shaped like Ballet dancers by the roadside. My ability to co operate with others increased as well, and failing my tests didn't scare me anymore.
When I sat down one day, thinking about the changes in myself, I was surprised to find that cycling taught me all these automatically. I learned co operation from the different parts of cycle, being observant by avoiding accidents and not scared of failing my tests by not fearing to fall while riding.
Riding a bicycle taught me more than just riding it.
#Aarushi
#Story
#experience
Due to some reasons that I'd rather not tell, I started to learn bicycle a little late, with my elder brother's bicycle. It would be scary at first, the fear of falling and getting hurt. But later on, when I became comfortable with cycles, I enjoyed riding them a lot. I observed some changes in myself as well, I was more observant, enough to see those little flowers shaped like Ballet dancers by the roadside. My ability to co operate with others increased as well, and failing my tests didn't scare me anymore.
When I sat down one day, thinking about the changes in myself, I was surprised to find that cycling taught me all these automatically. I learned co operation from the different parts of cycle, being observant by avoiding accidents and not scared of failing my tests by not fearing to fall while riding.
Riding a bicycle taught me more than just riding it.
#review #story #Florence
A Secret Diary
My wristwatch showed 9.30 am when the train halted at Siliguri station. A minute later, at the whistle of the guard, the train cooed and moved forward belching out clouds of grey smoke towards the blissful blue sky. I was lucky enough to get a window seat and was already mesmerized by the unparalleled scenic beauty of the snow-capped hills. Throughout the two hour journey, I didn't blink even for a second for fear of missing out the exciting and spectacular views the idyllic location offered. The vintage toy train chugged its way through the bustle of the bazaar, sometimes parallel to the roads, often halted at quaint little stations and at other times moved upward in zig zags. Looking down to the deep treacherous valley made me dizzy. I felt like falling into a seemingly endless abyss. The loco curved up and around the hill before steaming into the final station. "Welcome to Darjeeling," the gentle female voice announced. No sooner had the train halted than the passengers rushed to get out. As I was in no hurry I waited till the crowd settled. The tonga services waited outside the station to pick up the passengers and some of them haggled over the fare. As I was strapped for cash I preferred to take a 2kms walk with my backpack to the cottage atop of the hill. The morning breeze tingled my cheeks. As I walked through the narrow path flanked by tea gardens, I witnessed scores of women indulged in plucking leaves with huge baskets on their back and merrily humming the lore of bygone heroes. The strong aroma of the tea leaves and the occasional humming of cuckoos pervaded the place. The sky started turning sapphire, unblemished and cloudless. The whole place was throbbing with tranquillity and I felt like I was in heaven. I stopped at a board which read "Oasis Cottage." It directed me to take the left. I continued walking around 50 metres or so to finally arrive at the cottage. There was not a soul in sight!
"Sahib.." I turned to see a man in shabby clothes and turban tied around his head.
"Jeremy Brooks", I introduced myself.
He nodded as if recognizing me and uttered rather politely, "but you are a week early, sir. The cleaning is still going on."
"It's okay. Could you please tell me where I can find Mr Arthur Harley?"
"Hey Brooks, what a surprise! You little punk, you said next week", Harley appeared out of nowhere and punched me in my tummy.
"Yeah. A slight change of plans. The baby is due in two weeks and Daisy really expects me."
"Oh, I see. Ram, tidy up the pace. We'll be right back."
Ram nodded yes and rushed in. Harley was living nearby and he took me to his home. After helping ourselves with a sumptuous meal, I left for the cottage. The living room was crowded with furniture and old paintings. Hung from the ceiling was a colourful lantern to lighten up the interior at night. I went to the bedroom upstairs and ensconced myself under the warm blankets.
"Sahib, the tea is served.. would you like me to take it upstairs?" Ram's yelling interrupted my siesta. I came down to see him patiently waiting for me with a cup of famous Darjeeling tea. I inhaled the aroma before taking a sip. Then, I rang Daisy to say everything was alright. The day was drawing to a close and the setting sun drenched everything in evanescing vermilion hue. I told Ram to not make supper and retired to my bedroom. As it had been a long day I laid down and closed my eyes. The husky rustling of the leaves and the soft whistling of the chilly wind lulled me to sleep.
The next morning I woke up to see everything covered in snow. The weather was unpredictable. Yesterday the place was sun-soaked and now it's snow-clad! Ram brought me tea and said, "I shouted and screamed to show you the snowfall but you didn't wake up."
"I hit the bed early, Ram. I was dog-tired. Be sure to call me if it snows tonight."
"Sure, Sahib", and he withdrew to the kitchen.
Having finished my tea I decided to explore the home a bit. It was at least 25 years old and was generous with windows and off-white curtains which
A Secret Diary
My wristwatch showed 9.30 am when the train halted at Siliguri station. A minute later, at the whistle of the guard, the train cooed and moved forward belching out clouds of grey smoke towards the blissful blue sky. I was lucky enough to get a window seat and was already mesmerized by the unparalleled scenic beauty of the snow-capped hills. Throughout the two hour journey, I didn't blink even for a second for fear of missing out the exciting and spectacular views the idyllic location offered. The vintage toy train chugged its way through the bustle of the bazaar, sometimes parallel to the roads, often halted at quaint little stations and at other times moved upward in zig zags. Looking down to the deep treacherous valley made me dizzy. I felt like falling into a seemingly endless abyss. The loco curved up and around the hill before steaming into the final station. "Welcome to Darjeeling," the gentle female voice announced. No sooner had the train halted than the passengers rushed to get out. As I was in no hurry I waited till the crowd settled. The tonga services waited outside the station to pick up the passengers and some of them haggled over the fare. As I was strapped for cash I preferred to take a 2kms walk with my backpack to the cottage atop of the hill. The morning breeze tingled my cheeks. As I walked through the narrow path flanked by tea gardens, I witnessed scores of women indulged in plucking leaves with huge baskets on their back and merrily humming the lore of bygone heroes. The strong aroma of the tea leaves and the occasional humming of cuckoos pervaded the place. The sky started turning sapphire, unblemished and cloudless. The whole place was throbbing with tranquillity and I felt like I was in heaven. I stopped at a board which read "Oasis Cottage." It directed me to take the left. I continued walking around 50 metres or so to finally arrive at the cottage. There was not a soul in sight!
"Sahib.." I turned to see a man in shabby clothes and turban tied around his head.
"Jeremy Brooks", I introduced myself.
He nodded as if recognizing me and uttered rather politely, "but you are a week early, sir. The cleaning is still going on."
"It's okay. Could you please tell me where I can find Mr Arthur Harley?"
"Hey Brooks, what a surprise! You little punk, you said next week", Harley appeared out of nowhere and punched me in my tummy.
"Yeah. A slight change of plans. The baby is due in two weeks and Daisy really expects me."
"Oh, I see. Ram, tidy up the pace. We'll be right back."
Ram nodded yes and rushed in. Harley was living nearby and he took me to his home. After helping ourselves with a sumptuous meal, I left for the cottage. The living room was crowded with furniture and old paintings. Hung from the ceiling was a colourful lantern to lighten up the interior at night. I went to the bedroom upstairs and ensconced myself under the warm blankets.
"Sahib, the tea is served.. would you like me to take it upstairs?" Ram's yelling interrupted my siesta. I came down to see him patiently waiting for me with a cup of famous Darjeeling tea. I inhaled the aroma before taking a sip. Then, I rang Daisy to say everything was alright. The day was drawing to a close and the setting sun drenched everything in evanescing vermilion hue. I told Ram to not make supper and retired to my bedroom. As it had been a long day I laid down and closed my eyes. The husky rustling of the leaves and the soft whistling of the chilly wind lulled me to sleep.
The next morning I woke up to see everything covered in snow. The weather was unpredictable. Yesterday the place was sun-soaked and now it's snow-clad! Ram brought me tea and said, "I shouted and screamed to show you the snowfall but you didn't wake up."
"I hit the bed early, Ram. I was dog-tired. Be sure to call me if it snows tonight."
"Sure, Sahib", and he withdrew to the kitchen.
Having finished my tea I decided to explore the home a bit. It was at least 25 years old and was generous with windows and off-white curtains which
#review #snehu #story
DEAR READER,
Hello, I am Chipku. I am a diary, a personal diary of a girl named Ara. I have all her secrets hidden within me. But it's time for some secrets to be revealed. I am here to tell you an incident, a memory of Ara. She's no more now, but her experiences and stories are definitely going to excite you, and if you're bored then you must read it. So tie your belts, get some popcorn ready and let's start the journey.
BEFORE YOU READ
I am going to recite the story and I am just the narrator, what Ara wrote in me is going to be the same. So let's begin.
________________________________________
It is 4th of August, 2019 and Ara has finally turned 14. Every year she waits for her birthday to come. She loves distributing sweets to her classmates. But this year, it's different for her. She is not excited about distributing sweets, she is not excited for her birthday. She is just curious about certain things. She is quite happy too, her fellow poets made her birthday special. I know how much special is Writer's Block and it's people for her. Writer's block is like her second home. She joined it one year ago, when she started writing poems. Ara can spent her whole day on this app. Each day passes and she is becoming curious. She spends her whole day reading or writing poems. She has changed now. But it's a better change. She has become fun, loving, and caring.
Months have passed and everything's the same. She wakes up, gets ready, goes to school, comes home, does her assignments, and again writes to me. I wait everyday that today she is going to come and tell me something new, but everyday it's almost the same. I am bit tired now, listening to the same things.
Today is 15th of November. Today, Ara seems very curious and a bit sad too. She has lots of things going in her mind. I am excited for what's she is going to tell me today. There's a different look on her face. And here she comes to tell me about her day. Let's see what she has to tell me..
DEAR READER,
Hello, I am Chipku. I am a diary, a personal diary of a girl named Ara. I have all her secrets hidden within me. But it's time for some secrets to be revealed. I am here to tell you an incident, a memory of Ara. She's no more now, but her experiences and stories are definitely going to excite you, and if you're bored then you must read it. So tie your belts, get some popcorn ready and let's start the journey.
BEFORE YOU READ
I am going to recite the story and I am just the narrator, what Ara wrote in me is going to be the same. So let's begin.
________________________________________
It is 4th of August, 2019 and Ara has finally turned 14. Every year she waits for her birthday to come. She loves distributing sweets to her classmates. But this year, it's different for her. She is not excited about distributing sweets, she is not excited for her birthday. She is just curious about certain things. She is quite happy too, her fellow poets made her birthday special. I know how much special is Writer's Block and it's people for her. Writer's block is like her second home. She joined it one year ago, when she started writing poems. Ara can spent her whole day on this app. Each day passes and she is becoming curious. She spends her whole day reading or writing poems. She has changed now. But it's a better change. She has become fun, loving, and caring.
Months have passed and everything's the same. She wakes up, gets ready, goes to school, comes home, does her assignments, and again writes to me. I wait everyday that today she is going to come and tell me something new, but everyday it's almost the same. I am bit tired now, listening to the same things.
Today is 15th of November. Today, Ara seems very curious and a bit sad too. She has lots of things going in her mind. I am excited for what's she is going to tell me today. There's a different look on her face. And here she comes to tell me about her day. Let's see what she has to tell me..
#review #story #concept
Downtime
Shekhar can't see anything, I mean he is not blind he is somewhere or can say nowhere...trapped.As he didn't go to space or into a quantum realm... He is from India, Mumbai...so how did he get there...these are the question that remains with him in the beginning but later on when he starts to focus he got this ability to enter into dreams, that he saw in past, so he tries to influence his past self by becoming a random character(which he can't predict )in his dreams...
After the 1st dream about the car crash that happened to him, he further tries to classify dreams into two categories the realistic (close to real-life events that had happened to him)and unrealistic dream(like ghost, vampires, zombies, dinosaurs)
Downtime
Shekhar can't see anything, I mean he is not blind he is somewhere or can say nowhere...trapped.As he didn't go to space or into a quantum realm... He is from India, Mumbai...so how did he get there...these are the question that remains with him in the beginning but later on when he starts to focus he got this ability to enter into dreams, that he saw in past, so he tries to influence his past self by becoming a random character(which he can't predict )in his dreams...
After the 1st dream about the car crash that happened to him, he further tries to classify dreams into two categories the realistic (close to real-life events that had happened to him)and unrealistic dream(like ghost, vampires, zombies, dinosaurs)
Once upon a time long long a ago there lived peacock and a dove who were friends. They eat together, talk together and go in search for food together. They always think that they are very beautiful and never talked with other birds. One day a new crow from other forest came to the forest where the peacock and Dove lived. It saw the real friendship bond between peacock and Dove and it was keen to join them. It went straight to the house where dove and peacock lived and asked them for their friendship but they disagreed and they also insulted the crow. One day a hunter saw the place where dove and peacock usually come for collecting food and kept an net a spreader some seeds on it. As usually the peacock and Dove went the place where hunter kept net and got caught. The crow whom the peacock and Dove disagreed to accept hime as a friend saw all this and called all other crows. As,the hunter came to collect peacock and doves all crows attacked on him untill he kept the peacock and Dove free. The hunter realised the dove and peacock and ran away from forest. The dove and peacock realised a thing that colur or beauty doesn't matter in friendship and accepted crow as their friend.
#story #rotom #review
#story #rotom #review
P1 They told me I was purple when they pulled me out. My body constricted and suffocated from the transfer into the light. My family often brought up how I flailed my little legs and waved my small arms to try and grab the air and push it down my tiny nose and mouth. When I finally found it, it came flooding into my lungs. And, I was still suffocated once more, in a different way. And once more, my tiny body flailed, this time with a cry.
Eyeblinks, long naps, and fuzzy faces later, I remember myself running as a boy. Like every child, I was fearless when it was time to make silly faces and running as though my legs could fall off any minute now. I will never forget how I was everyone I wanted to be all at once. Who knew that that youth meant being passionate about everything at the same time. And it was the type of passion that came with so much confidence that you believe you could do anything. The type of passion that turned into anger if you failed on your first try. So much fury that you keep trying and trying, even if you keep failing. And when you did achieve it, you would smile at yourself, with as many teeth as you could reveal and nod your head like " there you go. I told you, you could do it".
A time where every time you looked in the mirror all you could see was who you could be, and if you listened closely you could hear lively rock music. With fun guitars and young men screaming "life is for the living". The same tracks you heard while you dreamt. And if you were anything like me, you surely danced to the music even if you didn’t know what the words meant then. You would dance on the tables, spinning, leaping, tapping, and knocking. As if you would take off at any moment and start to soar with the birds. And you'd look aside to see the tiny sad things that often bring you down vanish into the clouds.
In child o'clock, you're accepted like never before. You're forgiven for being yourself and there's never a right or wrong question. You could try everything you could get your hands on. Not knowing was a virtue, expected and innocence often trumped over ignorance. And in the tiny chance that you crack under the weight of the world. You could cry, and every time you did. The world responded with hugs and consolation.
Things start to change, and you notice funny little things. You notice how different everything is for people older than you. As in times when you were forced to do or say some things that you didn't agree with and you voiced your displeasure, their inherited biases jump at you with claws and teeth sharp. You would also notice the confusion in their actions. For instance, when they fought, it was different. We did fight too but we never fight with the ones we love. But they did, and they had silly excuses for it.
Time starts to tick and tock and the path starts to fade away. You lose your way and the world jumps out from nowhere and strikes you with a punch in the face. You probably remember how angry it was at you because it kept punching and punching you. You, becoming smaller as it overwhelms you and asks how could you have ever assumed that you could take over. How could you have ever assumed that you could change it? The next thing you remember is how you couldn’t cry. Suffocated again by whatever stereotypes and societal norms you had to stick to.
The type of suffocation that brings back old memories, good and bad. Anxiety and hormones wrestled with these memories to dress them up as crazed nostalgia or trauma and let them loose so they ran rampant in you.
Now more aware and conscious, you start to see the lingering expectations and perversions of the people that care about you. You look above and you notice how far those expectations are from who you are and what you want to be. Again, if you're anything like me, this is the part where you'll remain paralyzed and immobile. You gradually settle into the abyss that is you. You make friends with the monsters and the well-dressed traumas.
#story #essay #review
Eyeblinks, long naps, and fuzzy faces later, I remember myself running as a boy. Like every child, I was fearless when it was time to make silly faces and running as though my legs could fall off any minute now. I will never forget how I was everyone I wanted to be all at once. Who knew that that youth meant being passionate about everything at the same time. And it was the type of passion that came with so much confidence that you believe you could do anything. The type of passion that turned into anger if you failed on your first try. So much fury that you keep trying and trying, even if you keep failing. And when you did achieve it, you would smile at yourself, with as many teeth as you could reveal and nod your head like " there you go. I told you, you could do it".
A time where every time you looked in the mirror all you could see was who you could be, and if you listened closely you could hear lively rock music. With fun guitars and young men screaming "life is for the living". The same tracks you heard while you dreamt. And if you were anything like me, you surely danced to the music even if you didn’t know what the words meant then. You would dance on the tables, spinning, leaping, tapping, and knocking. As if you would take off at any moment and start to soar with the birds. And you'd look aside to see the tiny sad things that often bring you down vanish into the clouds.
In child o'clock, you're accepted like never before. You're forgiven for being yourself and there's never a right or wrong question. You could try everything you could get your hands on. Not knowing was a virtue, expected and innocence often trumped over ignorance. And in the tiny chance that you crack under the weight of the world. You could cry, and every time you did. The world responded with hugs and consolation.
Things start to change, and you notice funny little things. You notice how different everything is for people older than you. As in times when you were forced to do or say some things that you didn't agree with and you voiced your displeasure, their inherited biases jump at you with claws and teeth sharp. You would also notice the confusion in their actions. For instance, when they fought, it was different. We did fight too but we never fight with the ones we love. But they did, and they had silly excuses for it.
Time starts to tick and tock and the path starts to fade away. You lose your way and the world jumps out from nowhere and strikes you with a punch in the face. You probably remember how angry it was at you because it kept punching and punching you. You, becoming smaller as it overwhelms you and asks how could you have ever assumed that you could take over. How could you have ever assumed that you could change it? The next thing you remember is how you couldn’t cry. Suffocated again by whatever stereotypes and societal norms you had to stick to.
The type of suffocation that brings back old memories, good and bad. Anxiety and hormones wrestled with these memories to dress them up as crazed nostalgia or trauma and let them loose so they ran rampant in you.
Now more aware and conscious, you start to see the lingering expectations and perversions of the people that care about you. You look above and you notice how far those expectations are from who you are and what you want to be. Again, if you're anything like me, this is the part where you'll remain paralyzed and immobile. You gradually settle into the abyss that is you. You make friends with the monsters and the well-dressed traumas.
#story #essay #review
#review
#bpooj
#story
Author's note: my first write-up😅 so bear with it and please do give your reviews for improvement
~Chapter One~
"We have to let you go" Sam reported rather platonically. Like it was just a fact in comparison to the hundred thousand thoughts racing in her mind. "I'm sorry, could you care to explain?" Beth commented. She felt it was rather natural to have a parade of confusing thoughts but she got a strange feeling that it was not reciprocated. "Well, you know the company has decided to move in a different direction now" Sam commented and walked over to the wide windows overlooking the bevy of corporations around. "It's a natural process, one you must be familiar by now" he commented casually. It was pretty obvious that seething anger would be of no use against this man. She took a few deep breaths and looked over to him. "Toiling for this company for almost ten years is not just natural. You know this has not been that easy Sam" she declared. "I've been through it all, the downfalls, the scandals, the protests and the eventual resurrection. You can't dismiss all that in a single sentence." Sam looked over her now, not sympathetically of course, but with a cool devil-may-care attitude . He strode over and sat back in his chair, toiling with the papers in front of him. "I'm aware" he said. He glanced down and continued coolly "There's only so much we can do Beth. If we have to let you go, it's high time you started accepting the fact". He glanced up and looked her in the eyes. She stared back unsure of what to even say at this point. Sure, he wasn't an easy man to convince, but you could only have a conversation with someone willing to listen and negotiate. "Not fair, Sam. This really is going beyond bounds. I have been responsible for some major breakthroughs in getting timely deals the company has needed and wanted. Could you really say that's nothing?" she darted out. She didn't really need a heated argument to prove her point, but if that's what he wanted, that's what he would get. "One month, Beth. That's all I can give you at this point. I expect all your security credentials to be returned by then. We’re a top rising Security services corporation now. I think we could do without you here. And it's just my duty to pass on this information to you as head of Human Resources" he smirked. She leaned forward and slowly rose from her place. Sliding her hands on the desk, she fixed a glance on him. "This is really rich, coming from you. Obviously this place needs a reminder of where it's roots exist. This is not over!" she replied with a cool voice and stomped briskly out of the place. Real guts they got treating people like that, she fumed. She wondered how she could stand this place any longer. She felt the walls closing in around her, warning her to get out of the prison-cell as soon as she got the chance. She conjectured if anything was even worth at this point.
#bpooj
#story
Author's note: my first write-up😅 so bear with it and please do give your reviews for improvement
~Chapter One~
"We have to let you go" Sam reported rather platonically. Like it was just a fact in comparison to the hundred thousand thoughts racing in her mind. "I'm sorry, could you care to explain?" Beth commented. She felt it was rather natural to have a parade of confusing thoughts but she got a strange feeling that it was not reciprocated. "Well, you know the company has decided to move in a different direction now" Sam commented and walked over to the wide windows overlooking the bevy of corporations around. "It's a natural process, one you must be familiar by now" he commented casually. It was pretty obvious that seething anger would be of no use against this man. She took a few deep breaths and looked over to him. "Toiling for this company for almost ten years is not just natural. You know this has not been that easy Sam" she declared. "I've been through it all, the downfalls, the scandals, the protests and the eventual resurrection. You can't dismiss all that in a single sentence." Sam looked over her now, not sympathetically of course, but with a cool devil-may-care attitude . He strode over and sat back in his chair, toiling with the papers in front of him. "I'm aware" he said. He glanced down and continued coolly "There's only so much we can do Beth. If we have to let you go, it's high time you started accepting the fact". He glanced up and looked her in the eyes. She stared back unsure of what to even say at this point. Sure, he wasn't an easy man to convince, but you could only have a conversation with someone willing to listen and negotiate. "Not fair, Sam. This really is going beyond bounds. I have been responsible for some major breakthroughs in getting timely deals the company has needed and wanted. Could you really say that's nothing?" she darted out. She didn't really need a heated argument to prove her point, but if that's what he wanted, that's what he would get. "One month, Beth. That's all I can give you at this point. I expect all your security credentials to be returned by then. We’re a top rising Security services corporation now. I think we could do without you here. And it's just my duty to pass on this information to you as head of Human Resources" he smirked. She leaned forward and slowly rose from her place. Sliding her hands on the desk, she fixed a glance on him. "This is really rich, coming from you. Obviously this place needs a reminder of where it's roots exist. This is not over!" she replied with a cool voice and stomped briskly out of the place. Real guts they got treating people like that, she fumed. She wondered how she could stand this place any longer. She felt the walls closing in around her, warning her to get out of the prison-cell as soon as she got the chance. She conjectured if anything was even worth at this point.
NEEDLE
(I need your comment on this story, so whoever is reading this kindly review this)
Rosie swiftly passed by the passage drawing the curtains to prevent the darkness from creeping in. It was late in the night, wind was whistling in the outdoors . Rosie was napping sweater sitting comfortably on a soft-feathery sofa.
The house was rather an upper middle class dwelling, the sofa which was initially white has now tainted itself with dust. The place was a little manic, disturbed -the reason was Rosie, she couldn't bring herself to clean the room.
Her rounded belly alarmed her to have some snacks. It is a duty of a mother to eat healthy special at such a tender stage of pregnancy. She carried herself to the kitchen-took a spicy bag of potato chips from an old and rusted box-and came back on the sofa.
The fire in the chamber was on the verge of dying, but she was reluctant to go and add some logs.She was anxiously waiting for her husband. It was their routine her husband would work from six in the dusk to six in the dawn. Rosie admired his hard work by rewarding him with his favorite dishes every now and then.
It was something odd today, she looked a but nervous, maybe out of her pregnancy. Every Other woman complains about this, especially in the early months. Every now and then she looked at the hanging clock, with every passing minute she became a little more worried.
Someone knocked at the door, forcing her out of her reverie, she got up as she knew it was the time . "Hey darling come on, you are already late, I hope you would at least have dinner and go, won't you? " ,Rosie said to her husband. She knew somewhere hard sure that he won't say, that he would add, " I am too tired, I will wash heat up and go"
"I will have a glass of drink," He said. Rosie felt a little odd, she thought the work pressure is high - winters are a hardship she knew.
The man was dressed in a brown cosy coat, with a leather bag in his hand. A constant frown was balanced at his head.He was breathing hard, with a quivering voice he said, " Get me the drink quickly I have to go"
Rosie hurried herself to the kitchen, her hands were trembling a bit out of nervousness, she wanted to make a call to her husband but he was too tired to help her. She wanted him out of all his Misery.
Roise knew that ice was not a good option in such bitter weather but she didn't even think a second before, she added it! .
"Take it honey" she said handing him the glass,she didn't bother to look in his eyes. "Had a rough day? "
"Kind of " Disappointment giving way to concern, " I will leave soon" He said.
For a long time there was utter silence, Rosie comforted herself on the sofa and began netting again.
After having the last sip, his husband sat back and took a long breath . It looked like an effort to relax him from some heart eating stress.
He did break the silence by adding," Why are you sewing this? "
Rosie was a bit shocked at this question. She didn't wanted to answer. She wanted to say, "this little sweater won't fit you at least" But she rather replied, "It's for OUR baby"
He asked her for the sweater, it was so small that it was smaller than his palm. Give me those needles he Quivered and asked. He had begun to feel a little Breathless by then.
#story #paininlife #review.
(I need your comment on this story, so whoever is reading this kindly review this)
Rosie swiftly passed by the passage drawing the curtains to prevent the darkness from creeping in. It was late in the night, wind was whistling in the outdoors . Rosie was napping sweater sitting comfortably on a soft-feathery sofa.
The house was rather an upper middle class dwelling, the sofa which was initially white has now tainted itself with dust. The place was a little manic, disturbed -the reason was Rosie, she couldn't bring herself to clean the room.
Her rounded belly alarmed her to have some snacks. It is a duty of a mother to eat healthy special at such a tender stage of pregnancy. She carried herself to the kitchen-took a spicy bag of potato chips from an old and rusted box-and came back on the sofa.
The fire in the chamber was on the verge of dying, but she was reluctant to go and add some logs.She was anxiously waiting for her husband. It was their routine her husband would work from six in the dusk to six in the dawn. Rosie admired his hard work by rewarding him with his favorite dishes every now and then.
It was something odd today, she looked a but nervous, maybe out of her pregnancy. Every Other woman complains about this, especially in the early months. Every now and then she looked at the hanging clock, with every passing minute she became a little more worried.
Someone knocked at the door, forcing her out of her reverie, she got up as she knew it was the time . "Hey darling come on, you are already late, I hope you would at least have dinner and go, won't you? " ,Rosie said to her husband. She knew somewhere hard sure that he won't say, that he would add, " I am too tired, I will wash heat up and go"
"I will have a glass of drink," He said. Rosie felt a little odd, she thought the work pressure is high - winters are a hardship she knew.
The man was dressed in a brown cosy coat, with a leather bag in his hand. A constant frown was balanced at his head.He was breathing hard, with a quivering voice he said, " Get me the drink quickly I have to go"
Rosie hurried herself to the kitchen, her hands were trembling a bit out of nervousness, she wanted to make a call to her husband but he was too tired to help her. She wanted him out of all his Misery.
Roise knew that ice was not a good option in such bitter weather but she didn't even think a second before, she added it! .
"Take it honey" she said handing him the glass,she didn't bother to look in his eyes. "Had a rough day? "
"Kind of " Disappointment giving way to concern, " I will leave soon" He said.
For a long time there was utter silence, Rosie comforted herself on the sofa and began netting again.
After having the last sip, his husband sat back and took a long breath . It looked like an effort to relax him from some heart eating stress.
He did break the silence by adding," Why are you sewing this? "
Rosie was a bit shocked at this question. She didn't wanted to answer. She wanted to say, "this little sweater won't fit you at least" But she rather replied, "It's for OUR baby"
He asked her for the sweater, it was so small that it was smaller than his palm. Give me those needles he Quivered and asked. He had begun to feel a little Breathless by then.
#story #paininlife #review.
NEEDLE (PART 1)
(Do try to guess the climax, I have tried to make it as messy as possible)
Rosie swiftly passed by the passage drawing the curtains to prevent the darkness from creeping in. It was late in the night, wind was whistling in the outdoors . Rosie was napping sweater sitting comfortably on a soft-feathery sofa.
The house was rather an upper middle class dwelling, the sofa which was initially white has now tainted itself with dust. The place was a little manic, disturbed -the reason was Rosie, she couldn't bring herself to clean the room.
Her rounded belly alarmed her to have some snacks. It is a duty of a mother to eat healthy special at such a tender stage of pregnancy. She carried herself to the kitchen-took a spicy bag of potato chips from an old and rusted box-and came back on the sofa.
The fire in the chamber was on the verge of dying, but she was reluctant to go and add some logs.She was anxiously waiting for her husband. It was their routine her husband would work from six in the dusk to six in the dawn. Rosie admired his hard work by rewarding him with his favorite dishes every now and then.
It was something odd today, she looked a but nervous, maybe out of her pregnancy. Every Other woman complains about this, especially in the early months. Every now and then she looked at the hanging clock, with every passing minute she became a little more worried.
Someone knocked at the door, forcing her out of her reverie, she got up as she knew it was the time . "Hey darling come on, you are already late, I hope you would at least have dinner and go, won't you? " ,Rosie said to her husband. She knew somewhere hard sure that he won't say, that he would add, " I am too tired, I will wash heat up and go"
"I will have a glass of drink," He said. Rosie felt a little odd, she thought the work pressure is high - winters are a hardship she knew.
The man was dressed in a brown cosy coat, with a leather bag in his hand. A constant frown was balanced at his head.He was breathing hard, with a quivering voice he said, " Get me the drink quickly I have to go"
Rosie hurried herself to the kitchen, her hands were trembling a bit out of nervousness, she wanted to make a call to her husband but he was too tired to help her. She wanted him out of all his Misery.
Roise knew that ice was not a good option in such bitter weather but she didn't even think a second before, she added it! .
"Take it honey" she said handing him the glass,she didn't bother to look in his eyes. "Had a rough day? "
"Kind of " Disappointment giving way to concern, " I will leave soon" He said.
For a long time there was utter silence, Rosie comforted herself on the sofa and began netting again.
After having the last sip, his husband sat back and took a long breath . It looked like an effort to relax him from some heart eating stress.
He did break the silence by adding," Why are you sewing this? "
Rosie was a bit shocked at this question. She didn't wanted to answer. She wanted to say, "this little sweater won't fit you at least" But she rather replied, "It's for OUR baby"
He asked her for the sweater, it was so small that it was smaller than his palm. Give me those needles he Quivered and asked. He had begun to feel a little Breathless by then.
#paininlife #Story #review
(Do try to guess the climax, I have tried to make it as messy as possible)
Rosie swiftly passed by the passage drawing the curtains to prevent the darkness from creeping in. It was late in the night, wind was whistling in the outdoors . Rosie was napping sweater sitting comfortably on a soft-feathery sofa.
The house was rather an upper middle class dwelling, the sofa which was initially white has now tainted itself with dust. The place was a little manic, disturbed -the reason was Rosie, she couldn't bring herself to clean the room.
Her rounded belly alarmed her to have some snacks. It is a duty of a mother to eat healthy special at such a tender stage of pregnancy. She carried herself to the kitchen-took a spicy bag of potato chips from an old and rusted box-and came back on the sofa.
The fire in the chamber was on the verge of dying, but she was reluctant to go and add some logs.She was anxiously waiting for her husband. It was their routine her husband would work from six in the dusk to six in the dawn. Rosie admired his hard work by rewarding him with his favorite dishes every now and then.
It was something odd today, she looked a but nervous, maybe out of her pregnancy. Every Other woman complains about this, especially in the early months. Every now and then she looked at the hanging clock, with every passing minute she became a little more worried.
Someone knocked at the door, forcing her out of her reverie, she got up as she knew it was the time . "Hey darling come on, you are already late, I hope you would at least have dinner and go, won't you? " ,Rosie said to her husband. She knew somewhere hard sure that he won't say, that he would add, " I am too tired, I will wash heat up and go"
"I will have a glass of drink," He said. Rosie felt a little odd, she thought the work pressure is high - winters are a hardship she knew.
The man was dressed in a brown cosy coat, with a leather bag in his hand. A constant frown was balanced at his head.He was breathing hard, with a quivering voice he said, " Get me the drink quickly I have to go"
Rosie hurried herself to the kitchen, her hands were trembling a bit out of nervousness, she wanted to make a call to her husband but he was too tired to help her. She wanted him out of all his Misery.
Roise knew that ice was not a good option in such bitter weather but she didn't even think a second before, she added it! .
"Take it honey" she said handing him the glass,she didn't bother to look in his eyes. "Had a rough day? "
"Kind of " Disappointment giving way to concern, " I will leave soon" He said.
For a long time there was utter silence, Rosie comforted herself on the sofa and began netting again.
After having the last sip, his husband sat back and took a long breath . It looked like an effort to relax him from some heart eating stress.
He did break the silence by adding," Why are you sewing this? "
Rosie was a bit shocked at this question. She didn't wanted to answer. She wanted to say, "this little sweater won't fit you at least" But she rather replied, "It's for OUR baby"
He asked her for the sweater, it was so small that it was smaller than his palm. Give me those needles he Quivered and asked. He had begun to feel a little Breathless by then.
#paininlife #Story #review
Untitled excerpt
Nadia slept fitfully at night. It was that way since the blackout incident. The digital watch sat beside her looking at her with focus in the dark room. The moment it struck 3:33 am Nadia's eyes flew open as though she was awoken by some internal alarm. The clock almost blinked at her in response to distasteful look on her face.
Nadia stared uncomfortably at the clock for a while, she waited for 3:34 but the single minute wasn't passing. Growing nervous from the elongated time she patted the clock, still the time didn't move. Propping herself up on the arm now Nadia picked up the clock and shook it. Back in the corner of her room an apparition glided over the floor silently, malignantly.
Nadia was now sure that more than a minute has definitely passed, she sat up and looked about herself in the dark room. Her eyes darted across it trying to search for something which she would love to never find. A cold draft that started from nowhere touched her behind her neck and goose prickles rose on her skin. Nadia tucked herself under covers in response and took Carl's hand in hers as she tucked herself in. But something wasn't right about the feeling of his hand. His hand felt unusually cold and for some reason unlively.
The hand she was holding tightened it's own grip on her hand. Nadia reluctantly looked from under the covers only to find a disembodied hand floating about at the place where Carl was supposed to be sleeping. It had a greyish decayed hue and blood spurted out of its open end. She screamed and the lights came on. Carl shook her violently, asking her what has happened while looking at her with concern.
Nadia looked at Carl and hugged him as tight as she could. Carl didn't know what was happening but he hugged back regardless. He offered her some water and a few words of solace and she settled down. The clock had moved on to 3:34 to her relief and somehow it was still sitting on the table where it was originally kept on every night.
Carl and Nadia sat for a while and chatted. Carl sensed that Nadia was just not ready to sleep and he didn't want to sleep before assuring that Nadia would be fine. It wasn't the first time that Nadia screamed in a nightmare, it had infact happened one too many times. Some times Nadia was aware, others she wasn't but Carl knew in any case what he had to do, wait for her to sleep. Nadia rested her head on Carl's chest, the feeling in her arm of holding that decayed hand had rattled her from deep within. But after a few minutes Nadia was able to reason with herself that both she and Carl needed to sleep. She sat up and turned her head towards Carl to say good night. The lights flickered for a moment and then came back on. An apparition sat behind Carl, it's head was over Carl's shoulder. It had a face split in half, bloodied on the chin and ashened on the cheeks. It's long tongue licked at Carl's ear. Nadia's stomach churned at the site of the saliva that dripped from over Carl's ear but before she could so much as draw a breath the apparition's face was right in front of her's. The heavy weight of fear made it hard for her to breath or swallow.
"Say so much as a word and your precious will be gone" the appreciation said in a pinching voice. Then it went back again behind Carl and licked his neck. Nadia was helpless and all she could do was force herself to nod in agreement. The moment she nodded the apparition disappeared. Nadia slid in the bed and pulled the cover right over her head curled into a ball and shook. Carl unaware of whatever had happened went back to sleep as usual.
In the morning everything that she remembered from the night seemed so bizarre that she thought it best to never bring it up. The last thing she wanted for herself was to make Carl suspicious of her past and her lineage.
#tm #review #story
Nadia slept fitfully at night. It was that way since the blackout incident. The digital watch sat beside her looking at her with focus in the dark room. The moment it struck 3:33 am Nadia's eyes flew open as though she was awoken by some internal alarm. The clock almost blinked at her in response to distasteful look on her face.
Nadia stared uncomfortably at the clock for a while, she waited for 3:34 but the single minute wasn't passing. Growing nervous from the elongated time she patted the clock, still the time didn't move. Propping herself up on the arm now Nadia picked up the clock and shook it. Back in the corner of her room an apparition glided over the floor silently, malignantly.
Nadia was now sure that more than a minute has definitely passed, she sat up and looked about herself in the dark room. Her eyes darted across it trying to search for something which she would love to never find. A cold draft that started from nowhere touched her behind her neck and goose prickles rose on her skin. Nadia tucked herself under covers in response and took Carl's hand in hers as she tucked herself in. But something wasn't right about the feeling of his hand. His hand felt unusually cold and for some reason unlively.
The hand she was holding tightened it's own grip on her hand. Nadia reluctantly looked from under the covers only to find a disembodied hand floating about at the place where Carl was supposed to be sleeping. It had a greyish decayed hue and blood spurted out of its open end. She screamed and the lights came on. Carl shook her violently, asking her what has happened while looking at her with concern.
Nadia looked at Carl and hugged him as tight as she could. Carl didn't know what was happening but he hugged back regardless. He offered her some water and a few words of solace and she settled down. The clock had moved on to 3:34 to her relief and somehow it was still sitting on the table where it was originally kept on every night.
Carl and Nadia sat for a while and chatted. Carl sensed that Nadia was just not ready to sleep and he didn't want to sleep before assuring that Nadia would be fine. It wasn't the first time that Nadia screamed in a nightmare, it had infact happened one too many times. Some times Nadia was aware, others she wasn't but Carl knew in any case what he had to do, wait for her to sleep. Nadia rested her head on Carl's chest, the feeling in her arm of holding that decayed hand had rattled her from deep within. But after a few minutes Nadia was able to reason with herself that both she and Carl needed to sleep. She sat up and turned her head towards Carl to say good night. The lights flickered for a moment and then came back on. An apparition sat behind Carl, it's head was over Carl's shoulder. It had a face split in half, bloodied on the chin and ashened on the cheeks. It's long tongue licked at Carl's ear. Nadia's stomach churned at the site of the saliva that dripped from over Carl's ear but before she could so much as draw a breath the apparition's face was right in front of her's. The heavy weight of fear made it hard for her to breath or swallow.
"Say so much as a word and your precious will be gone" the appreciation said in a pinching voice. Then it went back again behind Carl and licked his neck. Nadia was helpless and all she could do was force herself to nod in agreement. The moment she nodded the apparition disappeared. Nadia slid in the bed and pulled the cover right over her head curled into a ball and shook. Carl unaware of whatever had happened went back to sleep as usual.
In the morning everything that she remembered from the night seemed so bizarre that she thought it best to never bring it up. The last thing she wanted for herself was to make Carl suspicious of her past and her lineage.
#tm #review #story