Hedonism. Consequences. Escape.

Hedonism (August 9)

He shut the blinds, drenched the towel and tightly wrapped it around his neck.
He brandished the rusty butter knife and licked its end. It shone a muted red from the zero watt bulb overhead. He took a deep breath and smiled into the mirror.
Reopening the stab wound took him to his preferred dimension.

Consequences (August 10)  

Every dawn, he takes a shower and prays to the deity near the kitchen’s switchboard.

He then visits the local shrine and appeases his gods for long hours. As a pre-pubescent teenager, he had sworn lifelong commitment to his religion.

The concrete block that killed him was accidentally dropped by an atheist 8 floors away.

Escape (August 13) 

Two floors down, he felt free. Three later, freedom gave way to panic. He was immediately filled with regret and began yelling into the thick air. Five floors later, he tried to find balance amidst terror, the air now deafening.

As he safely bounced into the thermocol heap, courtesy a passing truck, he breathed again.

Anger. Sin. Kill.

Anger (July 26)

He pressed his pencil as hard as he could into the page and continued writing. The lines were strong enough to cause depressions across the next few pages. 

With his lower lip engaged in a muscle-numbing pout, his eyes darted from his friends outside to his mother who was vacuuming in the kitchen. "Homework first."

Sin (July 27)

He inhaled a remorseful breath. Staring at the marble floor, he caught his own reflection.

He felt a tremor through his body and felt his throat tightening. He looked back at his reflection and whined. His tail curled between his legs, he laid his wet nose against the floor.

Breaking a vase was considered unforgivable.

Kill (July 28)

The rubber felt smooth and satisfying as he tested its elasticity. He stooped to pick up a pebble and blew away the superficial dust.

Nestling the pebble dead centre in the slingshot, he pulled it back and squinted at a sparrow nipping away at its wings.

The pebble slayed both the sparrow and his innocence.

Supernatural. Blue. Stories.

Supernatural (July 22)

Anuja delicately adjusted her infant’s head, as she held him close. She liked feeding him; she liked the control.

Eyes closed, she hummed her favourite tune and gently ran her palm against his head. His body’s warmth matched hers.

His tiny fingers then traced out the letters M, O, R and E on her tummy.

Take 2

The clouds were as much as obstacles as flies against a windscreen. Extending both hands forward, he hurtled ahead – chasing the falling meteor. Just then, he felt his feet being pulled.

His pillow vibrated and he woke up with a start. Probably a message. Squinting his eyes, he saw his inactive phone on his desk.


Blue (July 23)

The magnificent seven are nature’s pride. Always radiant when found, spreading joy is their calling. They spontaneously generate wealth too. Even if only in a manner of speaking.

A picture of contentment, they are. Well, almost.
The unwavering path 6 of them want will never be followed. The third brother will always have other plans.


Stories (July 25)

"There was once a big bad wolf who…"
"No! Not that one. Tell me another one."
"Okay. Once upon a time, there was a frog who lived in…"
"Nooo. That one’s boring!"
"Fine. In your closet right now, Pete – a one-eyed monster with a grumbling tummy – is waiting for me to leave. Good night!"

*Slam!*


Take 2

He ran his fingers delicately on the paper. "55 killed in landslide"
His thumb jerked as he clutched the sheet tightly. "Fuel rates hiked again"
"Freak manhole accident kills mother and her child." He cringed.

As the little bumps fed him the news, he felt glad that he couldn’t see the world around him.