Wednesday, September 2, 2015

55wordstory - Season 4 - Theme 27 - Artist

From @mrinalgupta98: 

The world thought she was crazy because she wasn’t like them. They thought she was lost in her own world. She saw beauty in everything. She talked to the trees, she sang with the breeze and she flew with the birds. She wasn’t lost, she had found herself. She wasn’t crazy, she was an artist.

From @AshieJayn: 

He would arrive at dawn and sit on a quiet corner of the beach. He would be gone before the morning sun broke over the horizon.

Everyday visitors would stop and admire the story drawn in the sand until the evening's high tide washed it away. 
Everyday they would thank the mysterious artist for brightening their day.

From @_ankitachauhan: 

The day she was being left amidst howling of emptiness. Destruction occurred to her. Her wrecked soul flooded, suffocated from remembrance. She stretched her crafty realm. She didn’t even know if it existed before. She arrested into unknown, captured few isolated moments for herself and transformed her every tear into verse. People call her artist.

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

55wordstory - Season 4 - Theme 26 - Solitary Flight

From @AshieJayn: 

I can travel through time as much as through human beings.
I may travel in singles, doubles or groups - small and large. 
But my most favourite journey is when I break free from all ideas and the so called practicality and soar high above the clouds in solitary flight.
I am a thought, a fantasy, a dream.

From @_ankitachauhan: 

A teardrop trickled down his fragile feathers while watching them to fly. One by one all the owlkids left the nest but the fluffy one. He too tried to spread wings, limped, crumpled, tried again but those undeveloped muscles weighed him down. He understood he has to wait as nature wants to embrace his solitary flight

From @oink1729: 

I preferred books over people: interesting, yet reliable; emotional, but not destructive. Flying over life, reading on the plane! Strapped in and now descending to a silent and unpeopled landing strip, I find I can recall only in miniature: grid like towns, neat squares of forest, nothing. Get real: books are a load of crap.

Thursday, August 27, 2015

55wordstory - Season 4 - Theme 25 - Naughty

From @AshieJayn: 

"Hey, remember the time we ate that chili chocolate cake at Smriti's place?"
"Oh yes! I still wonder how all that chili ended up in it."
"Don't you know? Her kid brother did it for not letting him play with us and then charmed us into eating it. Smriti says his son has totally taken after him."

From @aaroo4: 

What are you doing? He asked the child
I write words I don’t know on this paper that mommy gave & we find it in the dictionary
What word you writing now?
You don’t know that word? he asks with a grin.
No, am a good boy no.

From @Zoarcher: 

She happily wobbled towards the living room, flashing her toothless smile. Suddenly a loud “BOO” caught her unawares. “He and his tricks”, she thought lovingly, “every day up to something”. She turned slowly and admired the mischievous glint in his cataract-blurred eyes. She hoped he would never change. Always remain impish, till the very end.    

From @_ankitachauhan: 

Wickedness is nothing just an ebb and flow of hormones. Don’t judge because some reactions going inside my body at least. I give you more reasons to be cynical as skin colour, body stats and my weight. Go, expand your literacy level. But keep your eyes-off from that zone where I still stay as naughty.

From @oink1729: 

Naughty Wrongflop inherited from her father an extensive collection of pornographic writing and had, some years earlier, inherited a similarly extensive collection of religious texts from her uncle, the famous Bishop Wrongflop. It amused her to house both collections together, sorted alphabetically. Arranged so, the unwilling participants in the battle of ideas, finally at rest.

From @dr_lucy_says: 

“Mumma, my teacher told a story about Naughty. He had a friend called Big Years.”
“You mean Noddy and Big-Ears?”
“Nooo, it was Naughty.”
“Okay! So, what did he do?”
“He had a hat with a bell.”
“Ma, I want that hat too, I want to be Naughty.”
“Oh honey, believe me, you are.”

From @dr_lucy_says: 

Leather didn’t do anything for her, but she had read that some preferred leather over lace. So, she thought about giving it a go.
Crop top. Check.
Hot pants. Check.
Boots. Check.
Handcuffs. Check.
Whip?? Umm…  Check!!
She was going to show him that she was done being nice. She’d take him on a whirlwind.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

55wordstory - Season 4 - Theme 23 - Pornography

From @_ankitachauhan:

I never watched porn, not because some moral issues. I don’t think I would like it, I mean it’s a process of human birth. You can find each detail in those heavy science books too.

Past days when I found this PornBan Hash Tag, I had a great laugh on the stupidity of so-called law-makers. 

From @oink1729: 

There's nothing worse than failed pornography, and all pornography is failed pornography. Only words can return us to the pre-Christian unity of the physical and spiritual, indeed... Mr. Sauce's thoughts rudely interrupted by the Bishop: “It's not brain cancer man! You've no excuse!”

“Nurse, new symptom. I've got this pain in my ass. Could you?”

From @oink1729: 

“The sun encrusted ankle bracelet playing soft shapes of light on your brown skin..”
“Your sun..”
“The sun shaped bracelet coruscating gentle light on your beautiful ankles, you turned, and..”
Sigh, 55wordporn really shouldn't be this hard to write.


From @AshieJayn: 

“Have you seen the photographs?”
“I told you, I know absolutely nothing about this stuff.”
“I’m not asking you for a thesis. Just have a look and tell me if you feel something. Call me back!”
Three and a half minutes later. “Man! Food looking like this should be illegal. I’m firing my cook and moving in with you.”

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

55wordstory - Season 4 - Theme 24 - Malice

From @aaroo4: 

C’mon repeat it 5 more times and you can go play.
But mama, what he did was wrong.
Yes,but what you did was wrong.
I am sorry. I just wanted him to feel the pain I felt when he pushed me
No, baby not done. Say it aloud “I bear no malice towards others”

From @AshieJayn: 

She was a child when she was captivated by the gracefulness of Bharatnatyam. However, we had no choice other than to discourage her. 

Being a family of meagre means, one would think we bore malice to her chosen art form.

But how does one explain the choice between necessity and luxury to a seven year old.

From @_ankitachauhan: 

People humiliate us, try to destroy us by blurting harsh words. How people kept that much malice inside.

Though I’m not saint or some preacher but feeling of revenge drags me down into the chamber, surrounded with black walls, As if I am chopping off my soul. So I ignore them, only method that works.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

55wordstory - Season 4 - Theme 22 - Love in Small Letters

From @oink1729: 

Our love is written not with dramatically capitalized nouns running, out of breath, into firm, sentry-like, exclamation marks: Oh Joy of Tumultuous Fate! It is written with semi-colons, tender parenthesis, lists. A making things work, muddling through fuck-ups kind of love. A love that will leave this world holding hands. A love in small letters.

From @_ankitachauhan: 

Strangers come into our life with an option of certainty. “Love wouldn’t be enough, no matter how much we exhausted from it.  Their small gestures, tiny talks and kindness saved our life for a while. 

Although we know we can’t reserve them forever, still their silhouette outlasts the time. Little things matter.

From @ashiejayn: 

The third night in a row I was home past her bedtime and my heart strangled with guilt as I watched her sleep.
A folded sheet of paper peeked out from under her pillow, addressed to me.

The simply worded letter written in her small hand felt like a surge of love flowing through my body.

55wordstory - Season 4 - Theme 21 - Meet Again as Strangers

From @oink1729: 

The strange temporal dislocation of meeting you; familiar gestures imbued with an unreal, almost artificial, quality. Between the reality and the memory falls the shadow, I laughed inwardly, remembering how you had read me “Prufrock” and “Hollow Men” that late June day. That memory will always be part of me, though you no longer are.

From @GmaneGawade: 

I remember the first time we met. The first words we spoke. We were both so naive and conscious. Your questions answered but mine still lingered as questions. My feelings unspoken and thoughts  uncomprehended. We don't do this anymore. I met you as a stranger and I hope someday we'll meet yet again as strangers.

From @dr-Lucy_says: 

 “You know, I had hots for him back in college.”

“Hah! How can you say that to me? I’m his wife now!”

“Hey, just kidding!!!”

“Well, here he is. See you!”

“Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good.You?”


**Sigh, I still love him**

**Damn, I still love her**

“So… ummn… okay then.”

“Okay, Bye!”

From @AshieJayn: 

Covered in dust and cobwebs, her eyes came to rest on a looming shadow. "You're still here?", she exclaimed as the imposing gramophone stood out despite the darkness. 

She no longer felt any resentment towards it for being his first love. "Well, hello stranger!" she greeted cheerfully and pulled it out. "It's time we got acquainted."

From @_ankitachauhan: 

I love to touch her skin and feel the spine. We often meet as a stranger. But there is secret pact between me and my book, after savouring every bit, I hide her inside one of my bookshelves, and People think it’s some kind of disorder, schizo…? Everybody deserves pure madness in love, even books too.