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Friday Fictioneers Farm Path

By Neel Anil Panicker

word count: 99 words
The words pounded him like a sledgehammer: “Grow up man. How long will you live in the past collecting disposables”.
‘Grow up…disposables?’ Were they so?
His neck ached forcing him to arch backwards. His eyes fell on the showcase. Little trinkets lay there__a pair of beadstrings; a half broken wine glass that ignited memories of Mozaimbique and of Stella. Stella! how could he ever forget her.
Raghav’s eyes caught the blue coloured stone__an occultist’s dying gift.
Damn the accusers. Rag’s was a collector of memories. Also, a custodian of beliefs.
The smile was back on his face.
copyright@neelanilpanicker #fridayfictioneers#100-wordstory#01

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