First Line Fridays

“Whatever you do, you can’t do that” Ray said to her.

“Well, why not?” Sabrina said defiantly. She was getting sick of his antiques.

“Because I said so! And because it’s my truck. ” Ray muttered as he continued doing his crossword. He was pissed off at his little sister for touching his things.

Sabrina, annoyed at this point, went and picked up the truck and began playing with it anyway.

Ray leaped at her and pushed her to the ground.

Sabrina looked him, her eyes blood red. “I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Her voice quivering with anger. Definitely not the sound of a 6 year old.

“Or what? What are you going to do little sis?” Ray laughed at his little sister.

Hours later, their mother had searched the whole house but could not find Ray. A frog was jumping across his room and Sabrina was quietly playing with Rays truck, dressed in her witch’s costume for Halloween. A sly grin on her little face.

Growing up and apart

Here’s my entry for three line tales

Years ago, they played on that beach, together as friends, then as lovers – each time oblivious to the world, lost in each other as the waves collide into one another and lose their existence.

They vowed to come there for their whole lives and they did, for their wedding, their anniversary and weekend getaways – each time creating memories that the sea would remember long after they were gone.

Today, they keep that vow, if not the vow of marriage, as they bring their kids to the beach on their days of custody,  just to reminisce the days of togetherness, before the waves washed away their love as well.

 

(c) Sneha Pathak

Mon Amour

Here’s my entry for this week’s tale – 3 Line tales

She had forgotten all about that exciting week in Paris where she felt one with herself, free-spirited and full of hope inspired by all the artists, museums and most of all, her time with the charming young French poet she fell in love with.

The smell of children’s socks had replaced the fresh baked goods smell from the boulangeries, the screams of her husband had replaced the poets tender rhymes, the callouses on her hands from the chores had replaced the feeling of soft silk dresses she wore in Paris.

But today, as her youngest daughter took off for college, she visited her husband’s grave one last time, bid her farewell and as she began to drive away, she looked back one last time at this city which she was planning to leave forever to chase a dream that was breathed to life again by the letter in her hand that contained the following words – “J’attends toujours mon amour*”

 

*I am still waiting my love

 

(c) Sneha Pathak

Someone who listens

This week’s tale:

I stroke his beautiful hair, and ask him to go to his shed, and he does.

At least as a horse he listens to me, I chuckle to myself.

I wonder if he will remember what I did to him this week, and hate my being a witch.

© Sneha P

Picture perfect

Ostentatious

As hundreds of people flooded in the wedding hall, everyone was awe-struck by the sublime beauty and the decorations. Cheerful whispers and murmurs, even the poignant music played by the band weren’t enough to drown  out voices in her head.

Dressed in white from head to toe, wearing an intricately designed and quite expensive, wedding gown, hair blow dried, perfect makeup and shoes, Ella was the picture perfect bride, except for the lack of a smile on her lips.

She sat there wondering if she was making the right choice. Her fiance, and now soon to be husband, Edmund had spent an ostentatious amount of money on the ceremony. She should’ve been happy, but she wondered who was it for? Edmund had never really had the time or probably the inclination to really listen to her thoughts or feelings. She wondered if he really loved her after all, or was she just a smart choice for him to settle down with?

The tsunami of doubt, reflection and contemplation had left her absolutely drained. She quietly made her way down to the altar.

She heaved a sigh and realized, Edmund planned an ostentatious ceremony as a show of his financial success in life, and their marriage was going to be filled with ostentatious display of love and marital bliss on her part, after all she couldn’t afford to be the laughing stock of the family, the one cousin who could never find love, no, she couldn’t risk being that person.

The ceremony went on smoothly as Edmund pretended to be modest as people complimented how beautiful everything was, and she pretended to be happy as they wished her a long happy married life.

What I see

Here is my entry for this week’s Three Line Tales

Tick-tock,tick-tock, the clock screamed, cutting through the deafening silence of the night, it only made me more anxious as I waited patiently for the clock to strike midnight.

As soon as it did, I carefully sneaked out of my room, through the hall into the gardens, where he promised he would meet me and we would run away, to get married.

As I run towards him, he is just standing at the end of the corridor where the stone pillars end, waiting patiently for me, smiling, I run as fast as I can, because I Know what comes next, hands drag me back to the solitary room in the mental asylum, where they taunt me for waiting 10 years for him, where they call me crazy, but they don’t see him waiting there patiently every night, I do.

(C) Copyright Sneha P [Rights Reserved]

Perspective

Here is my take on this week’s Three Line Tales challenge

To some the colors of the wall were very quirky and peculiar.

To some, the vibrant colors represented liveliness, cheerfulness, and all things pretty.

For the blind owner, the colors were a way of reassuring himself, that even though the darkness had engulfed him, he could still fill others lives with colors for a little while.

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]

 

Just once

 

Here’s this weeks’ Three line tales

The world was at his feet however the big walls of his mansion became his dungeon as the silence began to scream and the loneliness began to haunt him.

That’s when he met the man who promised him the sole desire of his heart, to see her again if he smoked the magical powder, but with caution because if he used it more than once he might lose his mind.

The man smoked all at once, hoping to enter the paradise of insanity where all her saw was her, as her voice invited him further and further, he lost his senses as he began to sense her presence again after years.

 

What lay waiting

This week’s three lines tales entry

The night had an eerie vibe, the sea was furiously splashing against the worn out rocks , the winds were howling, and David was shivering like a fallen leaf due to the cold night air or with fear, he couldn’t say.

He struggled on his way to the door and knocked only to be greeted by the prettiest woman he had ever seen – pale skin, red lips, rosy cheeks, wide charcoal black eyes and a look of innocence, unlike anything he had seen before.

He was dumbfounded but before he could ask for help or say anything, the stranger threw her arms around him and said ” I knew you’d be back! You promised you would come back!” as she dragged him inside to a room where every wall was adorned with paintings – of him.

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]

The beginning of forever

This week’s Three Line Tales  prompt and the tale –

 

We met when we were little kids, just a couple of 5-year-olds, giggling, running around holding hands, finding momentary bliss in our sandcastles, building a tiny perfect world under our blanket forts, swinging together under the pale moonlight.

Today as I sit on that swing in your backyard again, watching the pretty flowers, the stark white chairs, waiting patiently for the event to begin, I remember the promise you made to love me forever when we were 18 and blush.

I hear footsteps approaching, dozens of friends and family pour in every year on this date, as I celebrate the day that was supposed to be our wedding day but instead became the day the war took you away from me,forever, by decorating the backyard just the way we had intended it to look.

© Sneha P [Rights Reserved]