Source: neelwrites/gameofpresidents/sundayphotofiction/flash/shortstory/200words/31/10/2017



Sunday Photo Fiction – October 29th 2017

Hosted by © J Hardy Carroll at


16 J Hardy Carroll 29 October 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘Sir, there seems to be a problem. Something suspicious is showing up’.

Singapore Airport Officer Alphons Rodrigues peered into the computer screen that reflected the results of the X-ray machine.

Then peering out he looked at the woman__middle aged, narrow crinkly slit eyes, pale yellow skin__as she extricated the suitcase from the outer bay and walked towards the check out counter.

“Excuse me Madam but would you mind stepping aside”.


He had never seen such perfectly crafted busts.

He inspected them one by one.

An African, another two who, given their dusky colourations and slit eyes resting on near oval faces could have been from any of the South Asian countries, probably Indonesian or Singaporean, he wildly guessed, a pair that looked liked twins, one Briton, and one more, who had an eerie resemblance to a pre-teen Donald Trump.

All six of them, they looked lifelike; their eyes shone bright, the skin flawless sans wrinkles, the cheeks oh so perfect and flawless, the hair, exquisitely coiffured.

Satisfied albeit a bit amused, Alphons green signalled the woman.

An hour later and in her hotel room, Angga Bintam Aldi smashed little Trump’s head onto the floor and out fell a pouch full of fine grain cocaine.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #SUNDAYPHOTOFICTION #flashfiction #shorttort #200words



Hosted by  Tina  at




By Neel Anil Panicker

He had stepped out of his one room second floor hideout off the dingy lanes bordering Outram Lines wearing a crispy white shirt topped with a greyish black suit, a maroon tie and a pair of black shoes adding to the sartorial finnesse.

Then, he had walked towards the tube and taken the 11: 53 from Barakhamba Station and alighted at Connaught Place. Threafter, he had checked out of Gate No. 8 and proceeded towards Starbucks, outside which he now waited, seated on a green coloured wooden bench, the third from the right, the one that looked towards the imposing façade of the Royal Bank of Scotland  across the busy street. From behind dark Ray Ban glasses, his hawkish eyes  bored into the inside pages of the day’s city edition of The Financial Express.

So far he had followed all instructions to a T.

Soon it would be time to pull off the largest bank heist of the century.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #Fridayfotofiction #shortstory #159words


Monday’s One-Minute Fiction: Week of October 30


Hosted by NORTINA S. at


By Neel Anil Panicker

A heavily plastered face, mascara, false eye lashes, thick red lips and long six inch psychedelic nails, thick curly hair let loose and falling all the way down to where the spine ends: To us small towners she always was an oddity, a strange creature, as if she was not part of the homosapien species.

We would get shit scared when we spotted her and quickly hid behind walls, dustbins or whatever it was that promised us protection.

One day we spotted her venturing into the forest that lay beside the waterless lake that abutted the nondescript neighborhood where we lived.

To us, all six bosom buddies, she was a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.

We thought we had the key to the mystery and followed her to the jungle.

Barely 50 meters or so, we spotted her, beside a huge pine tree, her hands resting on a thick branch, her lips sipping from a blood red glass.

She turned around and that was when we ran for our lives, ran faster than Ben Johnson could ever do so.

It was only much later did we learn about the child serial killings that had hit double digits.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #shortstory #flashfiction #200words #oneminutefiction