Stories

A Quick reference for myself for the list of stories Ive written.

The Skipper

” It is loneliness, Isn’t it? Isn’t that what makes people fall in love? Isn’t that all that is left after people fall out of love? Isn’t that what makes a twenty something boy fall head over heels for a twenty something girl?

Every heartbeat of mine had once throbbed to an angel. It was sixteen years ago, the first time, my heart had skipped a beat. In those first… “

Love Story – A Closure

” Five years. F***. F***. F***. Five years. Five very f***ing long years.

All spent figuring out what exactly hit me. Trying to comprehend what exactly happened. Its funny how falling out of love is so just like falling in love. Its the same thing. The confusion. The mindlessness. The thoughtless actions. The yet to sink in feeling of the reality. The enormity … “

My First Flash [Episodic Short] Story

The lights fluttered. He kept looking into the infinite darkness spreading before his eyes growing gradually, with a demonic consistency, engulfing any traces of his sane self. A lone candle kept shimmering alone; while others kept dying in rapid succession. A small flickering in a huge room, like a small trace of hope, too small and useless but nevertheless still alive …

To My Valentine

The first time I saw you, I was bowled. It was as they say ‘love at first sight’. Something about you just zinged with me. It was the simplicity with which you were that warmed my heart. You would just sit there staring me, earthy, fair and that brief zing of color you would bring. The true eyed one, those colorful and warming shades. You were just always full of enery, never tired of my questions, never tired of my …

Evil’s Minions

No! that was not the place. No! No! No! That isnt the place either. This is a big one and there is no way it can fit in that corner, would it? Three out of two times I would have to rebuild this place. Break it up into thin pieces of slippery chips, crafted of mahogany cheese and mayonese wood. Three out of two times I would have to repaint this surroundings, bleary orange and a chilling red. Should I …

O Traveller – The Nosferatu Story

Slow down, o’ traveller, slow down. Don’t you have no fear, o’ traveller?

Its a black highway and still you stop for damsels in distress, my traveller? Have you no fear, traveller? Heard havent you, of the dark tales of eidolons and revenants, dear traveller?

The last bus wont let me …

Gutenberg Defied

Global Summit on Illiteracy, 2235

“Preposterous” – the Frenchman put on his French accent.

“Garbage” – the British snottily commented on the proposal, the unease already evident.

“Dios! Vas a callarte?” – the Spanish president spoke aloud his fears.

“Me ne infischio” – the Italian consigliori …

The Last Kiss

A small drive and a blind date.

Neither of them were true. Moments earlier, they were a young couple in love, to be wedded soon as husband and wife, in a ceremony blessed happily by their parets, cruising in a mindless rush on the …

A Sketch…

Emotions

The talk of her always brought out the blush in him. Any small sentence about her or even a instance about her and he would blush pink. It was unnatural for any man, particularly any married man to blush when talked about his wife. But here was a man, in all his age, elegance and profession, who inspite of the life he lived, who would …

Raama Uvaacha [Rama Speaks]

Sitaey…

Forgive me Sitaey, forgive me. I know you understand that this was the only way I had; that this pain was inevitable.

I would have killed myself for even the slightest suspiscion on your character, but as the reigning king of Raghuvamsa do I really have another choice of …

Source Control

Hi Admin,

I am the version 1.20.240.7300 of the human program [code: K-OPO-S] and I am here to complain about a lot of issues about the faulty program you had delivered to me. A space for this program was created on 23rd July, 1985.

It has been checked in every second of these 20 years …

Anon

=========
July 4, 2030
=========
He wrote; they read. He talked; they listened. He danced; they enjoyed.

He was a star. In the surreal alternate reality of cyberspace, he was a star. Every word he podcasted, people listened to it. Every video he put on the page, people looked at it. He was all around, ubiquitous; and he listened to their every act, …


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