Tag Archives: flash fiction

FFfAW – The First Walk



Today is like any other; I feel isolated and scared – life goes on.

I often travel to the city’s most populated spots, hoping to find comfort being part of the crowd. The crowd rejects me. They realize the fraud that I am and I am shunned, pushed aside, left feeling alone and hollow – life goes on.

I am on the beach today; the family with their three kids, the teenagers and their game of football have moved across the sea just to keep me away. I want to be a part of their day, I want them to be part of mine but a body of water separates us. I feel betrayed – life goes on.

I step towards the water; the sand moves away, they don’t want me close. I continue moving forward and the water parts. Am I untouchable?

I walk forward on the path now uncovered; the teenagers wave at me, the family has saved me a spot. I feel accepted and happy – life goes on.


Word Count: 170

Thank you, Priceless Joy and Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers for the prompt. For other stories, hit the blue frog below!


The Exam Collection

I haven’t updated my blog in a while – roughly 40 days – however, this is far from a dead blog. While I haven’t had the time to sit in front of my laptop and churn out a large piece of fiction or write a post about my study experiences, I’m constantly jotting down notes at the edge of my textbook or typing out rough ideas in an appropriately named Android app called ‘Scribble’.


The following two flash fiction pieces were two of my earliest, edge of the textbook notes. Hope you don’t find them as traumatizing as my college professor, who read them after catching me not paying attention in her class, did.



She wrote down her darkest secrets on paper.

They found her with paper cuts on her wrists.



An illness took her child and left her depressed.


She heard the sound and felt like a mother again.

Image Source

FFfAW Halloween Special – Skeletal Express

This post is in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers’ challenge #37.

The sound of children laughing, going door-to-door, woke her. She had fallen asleep on her sofa in the middle of the day, watching the original Dracula – yet another reminder of today’s holiday.

Her doorbell didn’t ring at all; the chocolates lay in the bowl, untouched. Hers had been the only house to be bare: no pumpkins, no vampires.

She had stopped celebrating Halloween when the skeletons in her closet felt more real than the ones on the street.

The last line was meant to be a micro-fiction story and a sample piece (an audition) that I sent to a moderately famous Indian Facebook page that has been looking for flash fiction writers. When I saw this week’s photo prompt, I had two ideas: I immediately rejected the first one, on seeing Priceless Joy’s submission – which was better than anything I could’ve written on the topic, and this was the second. I’m very happy that I chose this option. Hope you enjoyed my story!

Also, check out some of the other entries here:

Friday Fictioneers – Bringing Her Back

Every Friday, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields gives us, Friday Fictioneers, a prompt and we have roughly a 100 words to write the best story possible using this prompt. This week’s photo is below:

Bringing Her Back

“I used to live here?”

“Yes, darling. This is where your house used to be.”

“But…but..there’s nothing here”.

For the first time since the Tsunami in 2004, Joy was back in Sri Lanka. My wife and I had argued about whether our 18-year old was ready to visit her birthplace.

“It’s going to break her! You’re going to break her!”, she had protested as I confirmed our tickets.

As Joy looked at the nothingness in front of her and, then, back at me, there was a look in her eyes I had never seen before. I feared my wife was right.

“Thank you for bringing me here, dad”, she smiled and held my hand. All I could do was smile back; it was the first time she had called me dad.

What could’ve broken her, fixed a part of my daughter, gave her closure.

Went a bit above and beyond the 100 word limit (at 143) this week but I believed the story deserved a little more detail. For those that aren’t aware of the Tsunami that hit the Indian Ocean 11 years ago, here is the Wikipedia page.

To check out some of the other entries, click the blue frog!

Special thanks to Dale Rogerson for an excellent photo prompt.

Soul Searching

This story is in response to a Reddit Writing Prompt.

You are a burglar that leaves valuables in the homes you burgle.

What do you leave? Why are you doing this?

Soul Searching

Soul Left

“I need more diamonds … We’ll need to pick up some more from Him.”

‘The Master’, who was also my wife, walked into the bedroom dressed in all-black, from the scarf covering her head to the slippers on her feet. She was tired and in pain, yet she stood perfectly erect, looking directly into my eyes, “You’re getting addicted, again. I shouldn’t have to remind you the most important rule over and over: we only burgle one place a week – no more, no less – it’s dangerous to burgle any more than that. Pick the right house, place five diamonds, and we’re set for the rest of the week, easy. If not, we have our reserves.”

She was right. If there were too many cases of diamonds suddenly appearing on people’s nightstands, someone would notice and that would be devastating for her entire community, which relied on these burglaries for their survival. However, there has never been a media report on the sudden appearance of diamonds. Why would anyone disclose such a thing to anybody?

As I looked at her, she was walking slowly towards me with a smile on her face. She said, holding my face in her hands, “I know you worry about me, Collector, but you don’t need to. I’ve known my fate since I was a little girl, even when others didn’t; you can’t change the future, you can only do your duty.”

In the community, all Masters are assigned a Collector when their health deteriorates and they start performing their role for the organisation: stealing a part of people’s souls and sending them to their Supreme Leader. Ours was a relationship, different from that of a Master and a Collector; we were lovers first.

Arshiya, which is what she was called when I met her seven years ago, had yet to fully develop her powers. The community shunned her as an Obsolete – someone whose powers were out of date, useless – no Collector was assigned to her. It wasn’t until after our marriage that her powers were on par with the rest of them, and she started getting sick. As her hair started to fall and she grew tremendously weak, she told me everything about the Soul-saving community, and, together, we requested the Supreme Leader to make me her Collector – I didn’t want her to have to leave.

I said, “I understand, Aru, I do…But those poor souls are stuck in the bodies of humans that don’t deserve them, and with every soul you pass on, your health temporarily gets better. Remember last week? You felt strong enough for us to go out for dinner. I want you to experience these things rather than be stuck behind these four walls like a prisoner.”

She replied, after a moment’s hesitation. “I experience life through you, Saumil. We’re not a normal couple, you know that…”

Before she could try and change my mind, I decided to reveal to her why I needed those extra diamonds from the Leader.

“Aru, your community, for decades now, has been stealing the souls of those that are in need of money, as that guarantees they’ll pick up the diamonds for personal benefit. You see, none of you are entirely human and that’s probably why you never noticed, but I am, and I have: Humans will pick those diamonds up, irrespective of their economic standing, how much money they have – whether you’re lying on the street with no clothes or on a waterbed inside in a mansion, there’s not a human in this world who’ll reject free diamonds.”

Her eyes lit up, and I continued. “The richer their bodies are, the more desperate the soul will be to be freed. Tomorrow, I’m going to burgle the richest man in the city, steal his soul in exchange for a few diamonds, and I’m going to grow old with my beautiful, healthy wife.”

Image Source

A very late Tuesday Short: Love and Nothing

Now that 99% of Instagram users have shifted to Snapchat, it feels like the right time to get back onto the previously popular photo app. To celebrate this momentous occasion, I decided to write a ‘Tuesday Short’ on Friday. Hope you guys like it!

Love and Nothing


Love has the power to bind us together.

And yet, to some, to too many, it means nothing.

Instagram Username: @akashrv

50 Word Stories – The Beauty of Love

Couple Walking

He knew he was nothing – No job, no prospects, no future.

Her life was planned for her – graduation next year, three months of internship, two more years of work, meet Prince Charming, marriage, kids. She wasn’t happy.

Then, their eyes met. They met.

She was his future; he, her happiness.

Image Source – This should lead you to the artist’s Etsy page. Check out the gallery for some spectacular paintings.