neelwrites/FFfPP/firemen/200words/29/05/2017

The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Wednesday morning, May 24th. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)

https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2017/05/24/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2017-week-22/

This challenge is open until 11:00 pm Friday night, June 2nd, 2017.

Click on the Blue Frog to share your story with our community.

A FIREMAN’S FIGHT

fire

By Neel Anil Panicker

  • Karl upped the nip of his National Fire Fighter Corp. Trucker Hat.
  • “Guys, it’s a Stage 4 Emergency. Check every single equipment. Nozzles, adapters. air systems, emergency medical supplies, handheld lights, monitors. outdoor warning sirens, spanner wrenches, water supplies et al. My guess is that it will take ten hours to put out the fire.”
  • ‘Sir, we’re ready’, responded his men, forty of them, all fitted in beetroot red tactical gear.
  • “Good. Group A, run and around take the left flank, top three floors. Group B, the next five, from the right, and Group C, the remaining floors right down to the basement. Get going boys.”
  • Standing a few meters away, Karl D’ Souza, on his last day of service, stared through his binoculars at the 18-storied Spiralling flares shot up through windows and rooms, the dense smokes reaching out into the skies, shrouding it in black soot.
  • His eyes fell on the 11th, it’s A Wing, the lens zooming in on a board hung on the balcony: ABC CONSULTANTS. His daughter’s office.
  • Two loud explosions rent the air.
  • He dashed into the building. He didn’t care. He’d to rescue his daughter.
  • ©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #FFfPP #200 words

neelwrites/fiction/murderofinnocence-#01/393words/FFfPP#05/05/2017

THE MURDER OF INNOCENCE   (PART ONE)

Man

By Neel Anil Panicker

Alone in the pitch dark garage of his house, that stood like a solitary pine, a classy duplex flat in the in the extreme far corner of Fifth Avenue, the snooty upper class secluded neighbourhood of South Delhi, fifteen year old Abhilash turned into a nervous wreck on the brink of a breakdown.

As he steadied himself against the red bricked walls, his lean frame drenched in large icicles of sweat, his mind engaged in a fierce battle with his heart which had turned into a cauldron of emotions as his fifteen year old self wrestled with the new found knowledge__of what he had seen and, more importantly, what now needed to be done.

For the umpteenth time that sultry afternoon he played out in his mind the video recording of the events of the past one hour.

‘He is back come home from school, a couple of hours earlier than usual___an event necessitated by the sudden demise of the Vice Principal__finds the front door strangely locked, walks around to the back and gets in through the kitchen door, (he always keeps a spare key for emergencies).

The house is pitch dark.

Where’s Mom?

Maybe she’s asleep.

At this hour? Why not?

Earlier in the morning, he had overheard her say to Dad about not being able to make it to Sharma Uncle’s daughter’s reception.

“It’s this headache. Keeps recurring. I guess an afternoon’s sleep would help me shake it off”, she had said.

He tiptoes into her bedroom hoping to surprise her.

He is about to turn the handle door open when he hears a slight noise.

Someone’s inside. He hears muffled whispers. A man’s voice?. Rough and crass. Muted laughter follows.

His heart beats crazily under his chest, his fingers turn moist, he has trouble standing, his limbs start shaking.

Who’s inside? In Mom’s room. In his parents’ bedroom. And where’s Mom.

His mind, a hellish torture, demands answers.

He bends down, peeps through the keyhole.

What he sees shakes the earth beneath his feet. The pupils of his eyes dilate, its irises turn blood red.

His Mom’s inside, in bed and, beside her, is another man___their arms entwined, bodies bare.  

He doesn’t know what or even how to react.

He races out of the narrow corridor, stumbles his way out of the kitchen door, and hides himself in  the garage.

(neelanilpanciker2017   #fiction   #THE MURDER OF INNOCENCE #01  #393 words  #to be continued

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #19

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner is a weekly writing challenge designed for both the flash fiction newbie and the more experienced writer. It is the desire of this challenge to allow writers the opportunity to clear the cobwebs from a more tedious and involved project. Becoming a part of a new and growing writer’s community might be just what the doctor ordered to rejuvenate your writing juices.

https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2017/05/03/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2017-week-19/

his challenge is open until 11:00 pm Friday night, May 12th, 2017.

Click on the Blue Frog to share your story with our community.

neelwrites/FFfPP/fiction/shortstory/200words/17/04/2017

THE WAITING GAME  (200 words)

Poison

By Neel Anil Panicker

Eighteen year olds hell bent on taking their lives fall into two categories.

If you were James Ekka, Jim to the legions of his admirers, and one who owned the meanest set of two wheels this side of Hyderabad, you would call it quits in super style; hurtling in breakneck speed up a steep cliff only to plunge several hundred feet below, crashing onto monstrous granite boulders, both, the man and machine, smashing into smithereens.

Life and death embraced on the fast lane; instant and painless.

And if you were Albert, sweet old Al, on the other hand, you would plan the rigmarole as if it were one big gala event, preparing days nee months in advance, first stalking the dark alleys of cyber space, googling ‘100 painfree ways to commit suicide’, and then crossing each of them out until your tortured mind zeroes in one that promises “instant release from all wordly pains”.

And then you await, firmly embedded in a darkened basement room sans windows, sans any light and noise, biding your time.

Awaits too the bottle of poison.

You’ve been staring at it for the past three hours.

Will you, won’t you? Wish you knew the answer.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #shortstory #FFfPP
https://rogershipp.wordpress.com/2017/04/14/old-als-poison-ffftpp-2017-week-16/

OLD AL’S POISON: FFFTPP-2017: WEEK #16

https://rogershipp.wordpress.com/2017/04/14/old-als-poison-ffftpp-2017-week-16/

neelwrites/fiction/shortstory/FFfPP/200words/08/03/2017

HEART SURGERY

doc

By Neel Anil Panicker

“Dr James Ekka, the charge against you is that you slept with your patient. Is that true?”

Steering aside a mop of hair from his temples, Dr James peered at the four men and lone woman staring down at him from across the table.

They were the Medical Board; an exclusive clique, an omnipotent group that ran Lifeline Hospital.

‘I…was… am in love…’

‘Love? What crap? Is that why you sneaked into her room and stayed there for over five hours’, thundered Mr. Rangoonwalla, the seventy year old Owner-Chairman.

He winked at the lady to his left. Thirty-five-year old Dr. Brinda, Head, Orthopaedics, responded with a coquettish smile.

It was an open secret that she had dumped her architect husband within a month of joining and was now ‘close’ to Rangoonwalla.

‘The bastards. They want to finish off his career, that too over a patient who he had treated and cured of cancer, a woman he liked and well, loved.’

Rangoonwalla’s harsh voice cut severed his thoughts.

“ You are dismissed with immediate effect”.

As Dr James walked out of the hospital gates, his phone rang.

“Dear doc, I am in love. Will you cure me?”, a familiar voice inquired.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #shortstory #FFfPP #200words

WRITTEN FOR  https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2017/03/08/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2017-week-11/

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER– 2017

WEEK #11

Click on the Blue Frog to share your story with our community.

neelwrites/fiction/shortstory/FFfPP/03/03/2017

24/7 SERVICE

mice

By Neel Anil Panicker

I was at the hospital when night duty nurse Harleen called out my name.

“Mrs Mehta!, you got a call,” she shrieked, her voice shrill and dictatorial.

She left the receiver uncovered. “It is a phone call from Mrs Reena!”

Boy or girl, she said.

With Harleen breathing down my neck, I didn’t feel like saying that this time it were quadruplets and that I couldn’t do anything about it. I said I would call back later as the doctors were on their rounds and that I needed to be back on my bed.

I hung up.

Harleen said, “Your mom-in-law seems to be a tad upset”.

Once during my last visit here she’d barged into the room only to overhear me promising mom-in-law that there would be ‘no more_anymore’.

How many do you have? she’d asked.

Including this, eleven, I’d answered, embarrassed.

Birthing babies year after year was something that was bound to happen considering Mark just couldn’t stop sticking his rod into me almost every single waking hour.

Great, she’d said. Did you know my husband was also like him?

 I didn’t.

“Men will be men”, she said, adding, “but no more fucking around with life.”

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #short story # 198 words

Written for FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFULL PRACTITIONER CHALLENGE HOSTED BY

https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2017/03/01/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2017-week-10/

The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Wednesday morning, March 1st. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)

This challenge is open until 11:00 pm Friday night, March 10th, 2017.


Click on the Blue Frog to share your story with our community.

 

neelwrites/fiction/shortstory/FFfPP/2202/2017

(Note: Sorry, I hope you won’t mind as I have gone beyond 200 words with this one that just came in one full flow.)

parking-lot

https://pixabay.com/en/city-people-street-night-lights-1487891/

AT THE CROSSROADS

By Neel Anil Panicker

As a child whenever a problem assailed Albert, he would duck past the half-broken boundary walls and enter the vast expanse of the airport.

Here, lost to the buzz of landings and takeoffs, the little boy would spend endless hours stepping in and out of black and white squares, expertly decoding the byzantine chalked crisscrosses and finally reaching the tarmac, just in time to see a beautiful bird taking off to the skies.

This was the place that gave wings to his dreams.

Today, those dreams had bitten the dust.

As Albert stumbled past the cemented tracks, the every elements that earlier soothed him__the gentle early morning breeze whispering into his ears; the noisy chirpiness of sprightly sparrows as they cut a line through the blue skies; even the soft cradling of grass around his ankles__all of them   seemed as if withdrawn; looking askance at him, the way small kids would look fearfully at a deranged man.

For the first time ever, ‘cutie Al’ now turned thirty-four, found himself at the crossroads.

Standing here, all alone and lonely, his tortured mind a turnstile of emotions, Albert felt hit by a 320 mile hurricane that had swept everything in its wake.

He stared down at his hands: there were blood on them.

The blood of Sona, his dear wife, the wife who swore by their unborn child; the wife who ultimately slept with his best friend; the best friend whom he had known since he was born; the best friend who he grew with and looked upon as a role model; the best friend who first taught him how to hold a gun and shoot_first a pigeon, then a duck, and much later a man, and then men, several; the best friend with whom he later teamed up to create the fiercest drug mafia this side of Colombo; the best friend who was his brother; his own blood__who now lay dead, his arms around Sona, both drowned in their own blood.

©neelanilpanicker2017 # fiction # shortstory #FFfPP # 330 words

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017

WEEK #09

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner is a weekly writing challenge designed for both the flash fiction newbie and the more experienced writer. It is the desire of this challenge to allow writers the opportunity to clear the cobwebs from a more tedious and involved project. Becoming a part of a new and growing writer’s community might be just what the doctor ordered to rejuvenate your writing juices.

Click on the Blue Frog to share your story with our community.

Written for https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2017/02/22/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2017-week-09/

neelwrites/fiction/shortstory/200words/FFfPP/16/02/2017

bottle

Washed Away

By Neel Anil Panicker

Nina squeezed the last of the drops down her throat and tossed the bottle.

It landed neck down on the sands, its mouth kissing a star fish that couldn’t find solace even in death__its insides scraped clean by other claimants to the sea.

Nina thrust the last of her cocaine-laced Camel cigarettes in between yellowed teeth, remnant of a life spent chasing drugs and alcohol.

Oblivious to the angry waves, she began to blow concentric rings into the evening sun that seemed adamant about calling it a day.

Her gaze swept past the heads of revellers and fell on the star fish.

Her mind flashbacked to the past.

There she was: a cherubic ever smiling girl of six in a cute pink headband over a mop of curly golden hair.

“You are a star”, they all chirped in unison; Poppa, Momma, her friends and, when she turned thirteen, every single boy in town.

And then a year later, a birthday party, a late night drive, a car accident and, the end.

In one moment she turned from star to “poor orphan”.

She heard the shrieks from all around.

 ‘…run…run…it’s a tsunami…’

Nina got up slowly, and headed towards the sea.

(C)neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction  #short story  # 200 word story

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017 WEEK #08

Written for https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2017/02/15/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2017-week-08/