neelwrites/dollhouse/firstlinefriday/596words/18/02/2018

THE DOLL HOUSE

By Neel Anil Panicker

Alex says he doesn’t want the doll house. Lisa wonders not for the umpteenth time if she had made a mistake. They were about to be married. She twice. Her childhood home. Recalls the golden memories. No, her mom would never have done it. And now that she is gone, her step father wants it removed, calls it an eyesore. Wants to convert it into a room and make money Make but she was going out.

Toime to end her doll day and get into the real world.

“I don’t care what you do with it, I just want it gone,” Alex said, pointing at the dollhouse.

Lisa stood at the entrance, her slim frame shuddering, her limbs slightly shaking as the sheer harshness of those words seeped in through her tender skin, skittered down the veins, and knifed through her heart tearing it asunder.

How could he, how on earth could a man change so soon, she wondered.  It had been barely a week since her mother’s death and ‘Uncle’ had changed, was showing his true colours.

She couldn’t believe how her mother, a smart and intelligent woman could ever have fallen for such as a man; this selfish, vain man, her step father, the man who had forcefully ingratiated himself into the Kapoor household after her father had died, first posing as a distant relative, a do gooder, a beacon of hope, and then slowly ingratiated himself to such an extent as to propose marriage to her mom.

Perhaps she was fooled in by his overarching ‘care’ and ‘man around the house’ persona, or maybe, she was too starved for love and companionship to have given him the benefit of doubt.

Isn’t that every woman does, barters her life and gives her all to the man in the fond hope and belief that she would change him to her way of thinking, make good of him and thereby make good of their shared lives.

But all that was water down the drain now, thought Lisa as she looked past her ‘Uncle’ at the doll house one last time.

Gennie, the bear eyed her from under a taped bright red wooden table, toy trains and baby dolls attired in frilly girlie frocks with buttoned eyes that smiled resplendently under the glare of multi-hued electric lights made her feel misty.

This miniature doll house was not just the place that she and her mother built box by box with a lot of care and love but this was also her oasis, her childhood retreat, the haven she turned into whenever the pressures of growing up seemed a wee bit overwhelming for her.

And now that haven, that one place that she thought was her and hers alone was also lost.

Lost for ever, its contents to be thrown out and the room itself refurbished and converted into a rental, just one more means for ‘Uncle’ to make money.

Well, she reasoned if that’s what he wants then let him have it, not just the doll house but the entire house and its belongings.

It was time for her to leave, it was time for her to hit the streets, to risk her chances, to step onto to the big bad world, and so what life has in store  for her.

Without that resolution in mind she turned around and walked away, carrying with her only memories, happy memories of a life well lived, a life when everything was perfect and she, and her mother and her father walked and loved and laughed like small little dolls.

©NEELANILPANICKER2018 #FICTION #FLASH #INSTASHORTS #DOLLHOUSE #596WORDS

First Line Friday – February 16th, 2018

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/02/16/first-line-friday-february-16th-2018/

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neelwrites/smokedout!/sixsentencestories/shortstory/inspectorsharmacrimeseries/285words/17/02/2018

SHORT STORY/FICTION

SMOKED OUT

By Neel Anil Panicker

Holy smoke! One look at the woman seated opposite him and Inspector Sharma felt a stirring in his loins even as a slow bulge began to build up under his pants.

 

Thick lustrous auburn hair pulled straight back only further accentuated the air brushed smoothness of a high cheek boned porcelain china face that sat majestically atop an hour glass figure that looked as it had popped out of a glossy movie poster.

Looking at the smoking hot beauty for a moment he wondered if had made a mistake, wondered whether for once his famed powers of deduction had gone wrong, that she wasn’t the killer, and that she had absolutely nothing to do with the body that lay dead in the inner bedroom of this sprawling sea side bungalow in Lutyen’s Delhi___the lifeless bullet ridden body of the man the world knew as the ‘Diamond King of India.’

In a bid to clear the doubt that was plaguing his mind, Inspector Sharma decided to probe the woman one last time.  “Could you please tell me Mrs Khurana where and what exactly were you doing between four and six today morning”?

‘I…we…I mean I was …’

That’s it!_the smoking gun. He had got the answer, the small iota of doubt that had nested in his brain, even it was for a nano second, had now completely vanished; this lady was all smoke and mirrors, she indeed was the killer.

Suave upper crust English bred women born into wealth who lived in 100 crore mansions the size of a football stadium and travelled the globe in their own private jets did not blabber and get tongue tied when facing questions from lowly keepers of the law.

©neelanilpanciker2018 #fiction #shortstory #sixsentencestories #inspectorsharmacrimeseries #285words

neelwrites/shootoutatpaharganj/fiction/200words/12/02/2018

SHORT STORY/FICTION

SHOOTOUT AT PAHARGANJ

23 J Hardy Carroll 11 February 2018

By Neel Anil Panicker

Inspector Sharma eyed the corridor from behind the staircase walls.

The narrow ill lit pathway ended up in a single door that he was told led to a double room.

Opposite it were three other rooms__single, two on the left and one on the right.

‘Sir, they checked in last night_three men, and a woman,’ was all the informer had to offer.

There could be trouble, Sharma surmised. His fingers tightened on the triggers of the Glock semi automatic pistol.

He turned around and jabbed a finger at the bell boy.

It was the signal that the latter awaited.

He tiptoed past Sharma and stepped into the corridor, his right hand holding on to a tray with a tea pot and two cups.

From behind Sharma watched with baited breath.

It was the then that the unforeseen happened; the lights went off, the entire hotel plunged into darkness.

What happened after this is shrouded in mystery.

Which of the doors opened first, who fired the first shot, who escaped and how? Everything was a matter of conjecture.

A day later Inspector Sharma was suspended and charged for the cold blooded murder of three innocent civilians including a baby_six months old.

©neelanilpanicker2018 #sundayphotofiction #shortstory #200words

Sunday Photo Fiction – February 11th 2018

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2018/02/11/sunday-photo-fiiction-february-11th-2018/

neelwrites/acrimelesson/fiction/shortstory/inspectorsharmacrimeseries/160words/11/02/2018

[Enter Post Title Here]

 

 

 

A CRIME LESSON  

By Neel Anil Panicker

Inspector Sharma lifted his head from the sheaf of papers at his desk and asked, “How long have been working with me?’

Constable Pandey sprang to attention and pulling his stomach in, squirmed. “Nine months, Sir.”
‘Nine months, eight days, seventeen hours, 42 minutes and some fleeting seconds since you’ve been deputed to assist me here at the Crime Branch Special Unit, right?’

“Yes…yes, Sir”.

“Well, it’s time you prove yourself. Tell me about this ‘Delhi Psycho Killer.’

Pandey eyes lit brighter than a 100 watt bulb.

“Sir, it’s simple. There have been seven killings in the past seven years. All the killings have happened in parks during winters, between mid-November to late December, early mornings, between 5 and 6. The murdered were all women, above 60, either widowed or divorced.”

‘Hmm…impressive, but what does this imply, Pandey?’

“Sir, looks like the killer loves the winters.”

‘Or, maybe that he hates the winters but hunts for victims who love them’.

©NEELANILPANICKER2018 #FICTION #FLASH ##SHORTSTORY #160WORDS

Weekend Writing Prompt #41 – Weather

Word Prompt

 Weather

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/02/10/weekend-writing-prompt-41-weather/

neelwrites/fireweed/fiction/shortstory/99words/10/02/2018

NOT A BAD DEAL

By Neel Anil Panicker

By the time Chacko realized it was too late. Esther had taken over his life__ lock, stock and barrel.

First, it began with a harmless, “Uncle, it’s just for two months. I need it for my exams. Your place is nearest to my college.”

He did mind the intrusion but eventually gave in. No harm getting some extra income, he surmised.

Before long, she was cooking him his favourite Goan chicken curry, reading him the morning newspapers, even running sundry errands for him.

Over time, she became his fireweed.

When he died a year later, the bungalow was hers.

©NEELANILPANICKER2018 #FIREWEED FICTION #SHORTSTORY

February 8: Flash Fiction Challenge

neelwrites/pitch/sixsentencestories/fiction/shortstory/257words/09/02/2018

THE WRONG PITCH

By Neel Anil Panicker

“I am sorry, I’m very terribly sorry Sir to have lost the contract.”

So, what do you have to say in your defense, Mr Srivastava?”

“Sir, I trust me when I say that I left no stone unturned in my efforts to impress the meeting. Right from doing weeks long research and knowing every single thing about Smith & Sons to even knowing the strengths, weaknesses, likes and dislikes of Mr Smith as well as his two sons, Robert and Edwin I did all that was humanly possible to ensure that they give us and us only the million dollar worth of contract.”

But alas! Despite all your well intentioned efforts you failed, you failed in securing the deal, this all important contract that was worth over ten million dollars and which now has gone to our arch enemy, the Kapoors. Isn’t that so, isn’t that what is the stark, bitter truth, Mr Chief Deal Maker, the all knowing Perfectionist non parallele?.

“I am sorry sir, but what else could I have done”?

What else? You haven’t done one thing wrong, you have done the most important thing wrong. You made the wrongful assumption and thought Smith & Sons means it is an all male enterprise whereas the reality is that it is hundred percent owned by matriarchal head of the family, eighty year old Mrs Elizabeth Smith who even today takes every single decision about all personal as well as business matters. You stupid fool, you made your pitch but it wasn’t to the right person.

©neelanilpanicker2018 #fiction #shortstory #sixsentencestories #257words

WELCOME TO SIX SENTENCE STORIES

ZOE

https://unchartedblogdotorg.wordpress.com/2018/02/07/welcome-to-six-sentence-stories-79/

This week’s cue is PITCH!

 

 

neelwrites/blastofatime/FFfAW/shortstory/fiction/175words/06/02/2018

BLAST OF A TIME

 

By Neel Anil Panicker

“It smelled? Well, it smelled of burnt plasticky, with overtones of sweet gunpowdery, charring fleshery, and concrete dustery.”

Inspector Sharma looked bemusedly at his colleague and shook his head.

When will these trainee newbies forego their English bred tongue and speak the language of the plebs, he wondered.

‘Yadav, I’m sure you must have taken pictures of the spot. Let me have a look at them.”

Moments later, the two men were peering into a pack of black and white photographs.”

“Sir, I spoke to the tribals. They say it’s always like this__i mean the air’s full of toxic smell. Gun shots, they say. Say it’s the Naxals undergoing weapon training, the forests serving as a natural shooting range”.

‘Ssshhhh…have  a look at this.’

Sharma stabbed his forefinger at a grainy image.

‘See that white patch sticking out of the pot hole. That’s sulphur. It proves an IED blast killed the Home Minister. Now all we have to figure out is who killed him. And that’s a lesson I shall impart you post lunch, ok’.

©neelanilpanicker2018 #flashfictionforaspiringwriters #fiction #shortstory #175words

FFfAW Challenge-Week of February 6, 2018

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/02/05/fffaw-challenge-week-of-february-6-2018/