Thursday, January 22, 2015

The Journey

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Georgia Koch

Alone in the inky darkness I fear there are no passengers tonight.  It had been a day of gloomy promise and now the boat stands grounded under the light of the stars.

For centuries have I steered it through the foul stench of ash, excrement, blood and the pall of the burning flesh.  The sides caked with vomit as they realise that there is no going back. 

I hear reluctant steps treading towards the craft.  He stands at the edge unwilling to get in but I ask for my fare, a mere coin, mine to row past the dreaded hound.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

This week I am at the Jaipur Literature Festival soaking in the atmosphere and pretending to be a writer.  Have already seen some great talks and am looking forward to more.

Monday, January 19, 2015

Food to Die For

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields
He gazed at her apartment on the other side of the courtyard where the pots of brilliant red geraniums added a splash of colour to the drab gray cemented tiles.

He had been cooking since she accepted his invitation to a meal.  Once the menu was decided it was just a matter of sourcing the right ingredients.  Lung and Loin Bourguignonne, Tandoori Liver and thigh baked in clay with marrow with tiny Lady Apples on the side.

Only the best tableware with the finest crystal set on damask tablecloth would do to commemorate another culinary triumph for Dr Hannibal Lecter.

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

This week's entry is a bit late (almost in line to be next week's entry).  The food choice for this post was inspired by janice poon's blog

Friday, January 09, 2015

The Road to Salvation

Copyright - Jean L.Hays

I dream of unattainable love and really glamorous clothes.   Of a life so far removed from the one I lead.  Brushing aside questions of bruises and closed eyes, followed by whispering silences where ever I go.   

The lashes endured were a testament to my love.  He loved me and he beat me.  The days when he ignored me were like torture.  But love was never meant to be like this.  I know that now.

The road to salvation starts here.  A step taken forward means that there is no turning back.  A fresh start and a new beginning await me.

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Here we go again.  Another year and another prompt.  I was going to leave it with an ambiguous ending but the new year has to start with hope. Happy blogging and writing to all.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Chronicle of the Nomad

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright -Bj√∂rn Rudberg

The grass grew in tussocks along the flight of stone stairs.  The moss clung to walls and the wild flowers that smelled like honey danced in the winter sun. 

The fort still conveyed a sense of lost grandeur, with its double-storied bastions and gigantic towers that housed within the grand palace and audience halls.   But nature was waging a war on the abandoned fort and winning.

In its place now stood a crumbling edifice fighting the vicissitudes of time.

(All your splendor will lie useless, when the nomad packs-up and leaves).

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

When I wrote my last blog post Fragrance of Memories little did I know that I would be attending my mother's funeral in less than a week.  So when I saw this week's prompt of the crumbling ruins, I was reminded of these lines from Banjaranama that my mother used to often quote.

If you are a millionaire, and your stores are brimming,
Know, O ignorant! There is always another merchant who is even greater than you.
What of your sugar, candy, jaggery and nuts? What of your doughs, sweet and salty?
What of your grapes, raisins, ginger and pepper? What of your saffron, cloves and betel?
All your splendor will lie useless, when the nomad packs-up and leaves.

I will miss her but I am grateful to all these little nuggets that she left behind which remain close to my heart.

Wednesday, December 03, 2014

Fragrance of Memories

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright Janet Webb
When growing up, I watched my mother wield a large pair of clippers and go at the Cherry Blossoms that edged our yard.  She would fill a vase with warm water and dunk the spindly branches with buds that were still tight. 

Within a week we would witness the unfurling with an unbounded joy that still stays with me.

In the first year without her, an unseasonal storm left us carpeted under snow.  When it was over I ventured outside with the clippers in my hand.

Later the family gathered around the flowers and inhaled the fragrance of her memories.


Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

No songs this time only a link to a poem

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

A Deluge of Words

(Copyright Randy Mazie)

I was cycling to my local library when I was hit by a quote.

Bang! Straight on my helmet stopping me right where I was.  

I propped the bike against a pole and lay down bewildered.

It was a deluge of words.

The words, a reminder of my lie, that the books were lost.


Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Couldn't pass this opportunity to insert a link to one of my favourite songs.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014


The city is alive and it never sleeps.  It lives, breathes and inhales dreams of newcomers.  Digesting and discarding as waste on the sidewalks, where the passersby gingerly skip over to avoid the stench of failure.

Six months back he was on Jimmy Kimmels’ show, eight million having watched him on YouTube singing Staying Alive in Bulgarian jive walking down Sunset Boulevard.   That landed him a gig in Celebrity Big Brother as an intruder.

In hindsight he should have never released a cover of Immortality in Ukrainian.  Only fifty views and here he was - a part of the crowd again. 

Written for Friday Fictioneers. Word Count : 100

Immortality can be such a such a strange thing in this connected world.  I wrote and then realised I might have done a longer version that covered this subject before.  A Tall Tail might cover it.