neelwrites/part26ofadangerouslove/abaddream/novella/fiction/thursdayphotoprompt/

Thursday photo prompt – Tower – #writephoto

Hosted by at https://scvincent.com/2017/10/12/thursday-photo-prompt-tower-writephoto/

A BAD DREAM  (PART 26 OF ‘A DANGEROUS LOVE’)

 

 

By Neel Anil Panicker

The tower loomed above him like some monstrous mythical creature that seemed to grow larger and larger with every single excruciating step that he took.

‘God! spare me this torture,’ he wanted to scream out, his anguished cries reverberating all around the icy blue skies, ricochetting off the innumerable small hills that dotted the jagged landscape, but then he checked himself.
His pursuers were close behind, barely a 100 metres away, and he didn’t want to take any chances, not after coming this far from his tormentors, and so near to his goal.

Swiping his brow off thick beads of sweat, the man stepped forward, his each step a stagger as he negotiated the steep bolder strewn mud splattered narrow incline that led to the ancient tower.

As he inched closer to it he could make out the pole, a massively long iron bean that rose Phoenix -like from the bowels of the tower and pierced the skies. On it, fluttering proud and high, the silhouette of a flag, a white rectangular piece of cloth, a clear indication that freedom was but a few steps away.

The sight filled his heart with renewed vigour and he raced ahead, almost running towards the tower.

It was then that he was hit, a shower of bullets knocking him to the ground, blood spluttering out of his chest and upper torso.

Slowly, he turned around and just before his eyes descended into darkness, he saw them, their victorious faces, in particular one face, the visage the very personification of Devil himself.

An earth shattering heart wrenching cry escaped his lips.

***

The tyres screeched to a halt inside Tiz Hazari Court premises, and that woke up Ali.

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief, but couldn’t wish away the face of his tormentor.

It was Afzal Guru, his crime boss, and now his Enemy Number One.

(c)neelanilpanicker2017 #part26 of A Dangerous Love #312words #fiction #novella #ThursdayPhotoPrompt #writephoto #thetower

If you would like to read the earlier parts of this ongoing novella ‘A DANGEROUS LOVE’

kindly click on the links below:

PART ONE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/neelwritesffphoningaroundfictionromance100words27072017/

PART TWO:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/neelwrites3linetalesphoningaround-part2fiction28072017/

PART THREE:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/

PART FOUR

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritespart/

PART FIVE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritessixsentencestoriesepisodesixofdangerouslovefiction/

PART SIX

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/03/neelwriteswatcherfictionthursdayphotoprompt03082017/

PART SEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/05/neelwritesgaffarmian-alifeoutsideprisonwallsthreelinetalesfiction188words/

PART EIGHT https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/08/neelwritescatsoutofthebagfffpppart8ofdangerouslovefiction08082017/

PART NINE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/09/neelwritesthediscoveryfffawpart9dangerouslovefiction09082017/comment-page-1/#comment-3979

PART TEN  https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/neelwritesalonelyvigilparttenofadangerouslovefiction35812082017/

PART ELEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/15/neelwritesthedisclosurespfpartelevenofdangerouslove15082017/

 

PART TWELVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/16/neeelwritesthedonsnestparttwelveofdangerouslovefictionnovella16082017/

PART THIRTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/neelwritesbordersixsentencestoriespartthirteenofadangerouslovefiction195words21082017/

PART FOURTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/24/neelwritesthehitpartfourteenofadangerouslove24082017/

PART FIFTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/25/neelwriteswearinganewshadeadangerouslifepartfifteenofdangerouslovefiction25082017/

PART SIXTEEN
PART SEVENTEEN
PART EIGHTEEN
PART NINETEEN
PART 21

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/09/19/neelwritespart21ofadangerouslovesixsentencestoriesplate19072017/

PART 22:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/09/30/neelwritescryinthedarortrappart22ofadangerouslovefictionnovella133words30092017/

 

 

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neelwrites/eternalpeaceinNature’sarms/fiction/shortstory/09/10/2017

ETERNAL PEACE IN NATURE’S ARMS

forest1

By Neel Anil Panicker

Of late, especially, and more so, since Sushma’s sudden death, the daily climb up the forested slope was proving to be quite tedious.
It wasn’t as if he had suddenly turned infirm or that his body had refused to obey the dictates of the mind.
On the contrary, for a septuagenarian leading a superannuated existence, John Albert Dayal, retired Eastern Railways Senior Superintendent, was doing pretty well,  ever fit and agile, his six foot ramrod straight frame a source of much envy among neighbours less than half his age.

Hiking up the trail was something he had always looked forward to.

“Why do you need to torture your bones by insisting on going up that forested hill. Don’t you know that it is infested with wild animals?” harangued his sister Martha, a year older to him, and recently widowed.
Left to herself, she would do nothing but bake honey dipped nutty chocolate cakes,  a delicacy she had learnt back in the days when she was young and employed at Hot Breads, the preferred eating joint of the gourmands.

But John was of a different breed.
Rather than indulging in such rich sweetmeats, which anyways he avoided like the plague ever since the doctor pronounced him as afflicted with advanced  diabetes and abnormally high blood pressure, he found pleasure in Nature.
So off he went, his ears oblivious to Martha’s protestations,
In no time he had left behind the city landscapes and waded deep into a thick foliage of pine and cedar trees.

Feeling slightly heavy and uncharacteristically tired, he sat down under the bark of a giant peepal tree and looked upwards.
From behind the thick foliage, the sun’s rays snaked in and sketched strobed images on his parched visage.
After a while he reclined his back against the tree trunk, stretched his legs out, and closed his eyes.

And that’s how they found him the next morning.
‘Fortuitous of him to go that way’, was the general consensus of all who knew him.

(c)neelanilpanicker2017 WritePhoto #Thursday Photo Prompt #fiction#flashfiction #shortstory #334words

Written for Thursday Photo Prompt hosted by at https://scvincent.com/2017/10/08/glade-writephoto-by-willow/

Glade – #writephoto by Willow

Also written for

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Saturday Mix – Same Same But Different, 7 October 2017

Welcome to the Saturday Mix, 9 September 2017! at https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/09/09/saturday-mix-same-same-but-different-9-september-2017/

This week we are diving into the depths of our thesaurus and exploring the world of synonyms.

Same Same But Different
Your ‘Same Same But Different’ task is to take the five challenge words and NOT use them in your writing. That’s right, you need to dig out your thesaurus and find a synonym for each word instead.

Your words are:

  1. produce
  2. puncture
  3. smile
  4. young
  5. difficult

Your writing form is either poetry or prose.

neelwrites/adear’deer’clue/thursdayphotoprompt/421words/01/10/2017/

Hosted by Sue Vincent

Thursday photo prompt – Signs – #writephoto

Thursday photo prompt – Signs – #writephoto

A DEAR ‘DEER’ CLUE

E46FDEF0-53D9-480E-A3CE-D15234A2DBDF

By Neel Anil Panicker

The encrypted message on the Police website read:

A convicted criminal has escaped from a high security Canadian prison a month ago. According to Interpol, it is suspected that this man named Avtar Singh, age, around 35, has escaped to India, and may be holed up in his ancestral village in Kapurthala, Punjab.

Inspector Sharma stood in the centre of the large hall and looked piercingly at the eight people lined up in front of him.

“You,” he thundered, his baton pointing menacingly towards the only male member around.

“What’s your name?”

‘ Sardar Angrez  Singh, Saheb’.

The voice, despite the advanced age, __he looked not a day less than eighty__had not lost its timbre, and the rich baritone boomed across the four walls of the haveli-styled two story building.

Inspector Sharma twirled his moustache.

He had to be careful.

This was no ordinary family. His subordinates had apprised him about the ‘Singhs.’

Not only were they prosperous, owning several hundred acres of rich farmland, but they boasted of some very powerful political connections.

The elder son, Satinder Singh, had even contested the last municipal elections on the ruling party ticket.

Avtar was a year younger to him.

“When did you last see or hear from Avtar?”

‘A month ago. He said he was driving to Toronto and would be back in a week.’

“Back to India?”

‘No Saheb, back to Vancour where he stayed. He is a truck driver, you see’.

Inspector Sharma chewed the information, his eyes taking a 360 degree inspection of his surroundings.

Clearly, this was a wily old man, tutored to say the right things.

No point wasting his time. He had to take a different approach.

He turned around to leave.

It was then that his eyes fell on the large photograph that hung on the red brick wall opposite him.

He stepped forward and peered into it.

Three reindeer heads, their pointed antlers jutting out, almost breaching the edges of the large rectangular frame.

Not unusual, he thought.

A cold country animal from the deer species.

The man must have brought it all the way from Canada during one of his annual sojourns to India.

He was about to turn around when his eyes fell on the plaster.

He touched the cement around them. They were slightly sticky.

It meant the photo was recently mounted, plausibly less than 48 hours ago.

His eyes lit up behind his dark glasses.

It could only mean his quarry was here, or somewhere nearby.

Now, it was all a matter of finding out where.

#neelanilpanicker2017 #TheWritePhoto #fiction #flashfiction #Thursdayphotoprompt #421words

neelwrites/part19ofadangerouslove/thursdayphotoprompt/scatter/fiction/novella/860words/15/09/2017

Thursday photo prompt – Scattered #writephoto

#writephoto

Hosted by Sue Vincent at https://scvincent.com/2017/09/14/thursday-photo-prompt-scattered-writephoto/

GUNNING FOR LOVE

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘Salaam, Arif Chacha.’

The septuagenarian looked up and peered through the iron bars at the young girl outside.

It took him some time before his cataract ridden eyes adjusted to the dark outside; gradually the silhouette of a burqa clad woman came into vision.

He adjusted his old worn out spectacles and gradually the face turned clearer.

His eyes shot up in recognition.

“Why! You are Liza baby. Allekum Salam. It’s been ages. The last time I saw you were a young child…barely ten or so.”

The blare of passing horns muted the last words.

Liza half turned and shot a glance at the street behind her.

Old Delhi, even at this hour of the night, refused to slow down; tongas, cycle rickshaws, scooters, cars, massive trucks carrying loadfuls of cement, bricks, iron bars and other construction materials whizzed in and out of narrow lanes. The sound of human voices in an array of tongues clashed with a medley of mind numbing sounds, the overall effect not unlike that of a madhouse on fire.

Liza hastily tucked her hands under her burqa; though covered from top to toe she couldn’t afford the risk of being spotted.

This was her father’s area. His people were all around.

If word reached Afzal Guru’s ears that the Don’s daughter was seen here in

Kabootar Wali Galli then her goose was cooked.  The Don would roast her alive.

“Arif Chacha, I need a favour”.

The old man’s eyes peered at her. Favour? What possible favour could the Don’s daughter want from him?

“It’s urgent. I need your help”.

It took a moment before the penny dropped.

From behind the iron bars the old man quickly inspected the street behind her.

Though choc-a-bloc with human activity, none were looking over to his small nondescript hole in the wall establishment.

But still this wasn’t the time to take risks, more the guest at his door was the dreaded don’s daughter.

He made a decision. Within seconds a small door square slit opened inwards with space just about enough for a person to squeeze through.

He motioned Liza to enter.

Once inside, he shut the trap door and waited for Liza to adjust herself to the darkness.

“Yes, Liza baby. What’s it that you want? You could have asked for it and I would have personally come and delivered it.”

Tiem was running out. Liza too realized the enormous amount of risks she was taking. Moreover, she didn’t want anyone, least of all Arif Chacha to get into trouble because of her.

Without wasting anymore time, she blurted out, “Chacha. I need some bombs”.

Even in the pitch darkness, she noticed the old man’s expressions had changed.

A look of sheer horror and shock swept through the pockmarked face.

“I need it now. Will you help me, Chacha”?

The old man, though still reeling under shock, thought over her request.

True, he was an arms dealer, an illegal supplier of arms.

For over two centuries his family was in business; a family tradition passed on from one generation to the other.

All manner of people were his clients.

Petty thieves, professional robbers, hardened criminals, even unscrupulous politicians__they all came to him, buying his wares for a price.

It was a business conducted in absolute stealth; a single word, a furtive glance, a quick exchange of goods, a hasty retreating into wilderness.

He looked at the burqa clad girl I front of him and understood.

Without uttering another word, he motioned her inside to a small inner room sans any windows.

“Here, take your pick”.

Lined up from floor to ceiling were machine guns, machetes, swords,, small firearms, and placed in a corner were scores upon scores of bombs, packed in boxes, their tops ripped open.

A maniacal gleam lighted up Liza’s eyes. She bent down and picked a box. It contained six large circular bombs, all bottled green in colour.

She got up and was about to leave  when her eyes fell on a row of small pistols.

“Those are of foreign make. Six rounds each. They come with inbuilt silencers.”

Liza picked one and slid it along with the box of bombs inside the inner pockets of her burqa.

“I don’t know what you intend to do with this but I wish you the best, my dear baby.”

In the dark the two looked at one another. Liza knew the old man was taking a tremendous risk by helping the Don’s daughter; a risk that could lead to his death.

“Thank you Arif Chacha. I have looked at you as my own and I shall never forget your benevolence. Khuda Hafiz”.

And then she was gone. As stealthily as she had come, carrying, hidden under her coat, enough arsenal to wreck havoc and free her love.

As she wound her way past the narrow footpaths and sped towards

Sumer Manzil, Liza’s prayed and hoped that her plans for the morrow would come to fruition.

Ali’s words from the previous night spurred her forward, adding a zing to her steps, and filling her lovelorn heart with unbridled passion.

“Everything is fair in love and war, my baby”.

©neelanilpanicker2017#ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 2017 #part19ofadangerouslove #fiction #novella #

#Thursday photo prompt – Scattered #writephoto

#860words

DEAR READERS/COLLEAGUES/FELLOW WRITERS/FRIENDS

If you would like to read the earlier parts of this ongoing novella ‘A DANGEROUS LOVE’

kindly click on the links below:

For PART ONE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/neelwritesffphoningaroundfictionromance100words27072017/

For PART TWO:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/neelwrites3linetalesphoningaround-part2fiction28072017/

PART THREE: https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/

PART

FOUR https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritespart/

PART FIVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritessixsentencestoriesepisodesixofdangerouslovefiction/

PART SIX

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/03/neelwriteswatcherfictionthursdayphotoprompt03082017/

PART SEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/05/neelwritesgaffarmian-alifeoutsideprisonwallsthreelinetalesfiction188words/

PART EIGHT https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/08/neelwritescatsoutofthebagfffpppart8ofdangerouslovefiction08082017/

PART NINE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/09/neelwritesthediscoveryfffawpart9dangerouslovefiction09082017/comment-page-1/#comment-3979

PART TEN  https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/neelwritesalonelyvigilparttenofadangerouslovefiction35812082017/

PART ELEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/15/neelwritesthedisclosurespfpartelevenofdangerouslove15082017/

 

PART TWELVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/16/neeelwritesthedonsnestparttwelveofdangerouslovefictionnovella16082017/

PART THIRTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/neelwritesbordersixsentencestoriespartthirteenofadangerouslovefiction195words21082017/

PART FOURTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/24/neelwritesthehitpartfourteenofadangerouslove24082017/

PART FIFTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/25/neelwriteswearinganewshadeadangerouslifepartfifteenofdangerouslovefiction25082017/

PART SIXTEEN
PART SEVENTEEN
PART EIGHTEEN

neelwrites/alonelyvigil/parttenofadangerouslove/fiction/358/12/08/2017

Thursday photo prompt – Alone #writephoto

Hosted by the gracious Sue Vincent at https://scvincent.com/2017/08/10/thursday-photo-prompt-alone-writephoto/

A LONELY VIGIL

By Neel Anil Panicker

Prisons make for great camaraderie.

Call it brotherhood of the underdog, survival instincts, or sheer boredom,

it is not unusual for two people locked in a common cell to turn into best buddies over a period of time.

It’s two in the morning, though within the darkened walls of a prison cell, time is but a mere statistic, meaningless and of not much value.

Crouched in a corner and still holding in his hands the tiny cell phone, Ali just about had time to digest the earth shattering news that Moosa had conveyed to him seconds ago when he looked up to find his prison mate not just wide awake but staring down at him from across the cell room, a mystery smile playing on his lips.

It was a look that transported Ali back to his childhood days in his impoverished village in Gorakhpur; a look the landlord’s henchmen at the orchard farm used to give him when they suspected him of stealing mangoes.

Momentarily shaken, Ali quickly regained his composure, and looked his cell mate in the eye.

The two locked horns for what seemed an eternity. It was his cellmate who broke the stare and flashed a smile, only this time it was a wide, friendly smile, a smile that seemed to say, “don’t worry man, we’re both sailing in the same boat. All your secrets are mine too and shall remain so, forever buried in my heart’.

It was not long before the two convicts got talking. Before daybreak, Ali and his cell mate, whose name he came to know was Lakhi alias Lambu had become thick buddies.

Within the next few days and nights, the two had shared enough of their lives and confided just about enough to forge a strong bond of friendship.

Come nightfall and as the prison would plunge darkness, the two friends would huddle around the bed and converse for long hours till they fell prey to sleep.

It was while in the midst of one such nightly conversation that Ali received a call from Liza, a call that had the potential to change the course of his life.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #alonelyvigil#parttenofadangerouslove#ofprisonnights#358

DEAR READERS/WRITER FRIENDS INTERESTED IN READING THE EARLIER PARTS KINDLY CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW

For PART ONE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/neelwritesffphoningaroundfictionromance100words27072017/

For PART TWO:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/neelwrites3linetalesphoningaround-part2fiction28072017/

PART THREE: https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/

PART

FOUR https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritespart/

PART FIVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritessixsentencestoriesepisodesixofdangerouslovefiction/

PART SIX

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/03/neelwriteswatcherfictionthursdayphotoprompt03082017/

PART SEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/05/neelwritesgaffarmian-alifeoutsideprisonwallsthreelinetalesfiction188words/

PART EIGHT https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/08/neelwritescatsoutofthebagfffpppart8ofdangerouslovefiction08082017/

PART NINE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/09/neelwritesthediscoveryfffawpart9dangerouslovefiction09082017/comment-page-1/#comment-3979

neelwrites/watcher/fiction/thursdayphotoprompt/03/08/2017

Written for Sue Vincent’s weekly writing prompt at https://scvincent.com/2017/08/03/thursday-photo-prompt-watchers-writephoto/

Thursday photo prompt – Watchers #writephoto

 

THE WATCHER

PLACE: TIHAR JAIL

TIME: A LITTLE AFTER TWO IN THE AFTERNOON

It’s Sunday afternoon and the prisoners are trudging back from the workshops.

The gruelling five and half hour morning shift has just got over and the inmates, some five hundred of them segmented into ten groups of around 50 each are being herded back to their cells where they would remain for the next hour until the stony prison walls reverberate with the sound of the bugle, the signal for the commencement of the next shift, mercifully half an hour shorter.

Uniformed prison guards march them down long, dark corridors that further open into windowless dark square blocks that house the prisoner cells.

Each cell comprises at least five times its official capacity of four inmates, especially now as it reaches the pinnacle of the year end festival season and also when winters are at its prime.

In no time, the prisoners, men of varying ages in matching pale blue attire stumble back to their barracks, their heads bent and shoulders stooped, their pale work weary eyes downcast with a pervading sense of gloom and despair much like the way tiny black ants get swallowed into teenie weenie holes.

A visibly bored betel chomping prison guard, machine gun slung loosely strung around his arm, escorts Al, the last of the inmates back to his egg shaped cell at the far right corner, and then troops back to his watch post at the other end of the long tunnel, the sound of his boot steps piercing through the eerie stillness that hangs like a huge albatross all around the high ceilinged walls of ‘C’ Wing.

As his fellow prisoners embrace sleep, their emaciated frames wrapped around in foetal positions, Al ponders over the end of another day, another week in this hell hole, and then escapes into dreamland, jumping across the heavily fortified walls of what is Asia’s largest penitentiary and straight into the arms of his beloved Liza.

(#neelanilpanicker2017 #partsixofdangerouslove #dangerouslove#fiction#thewatcher#334words

DEAR READERS AND WRITER FRIENDS INTERESTED IN READING THE EARLIER PARTS KINDLY CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW

For PART ONE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/neelwritesffphoningaroundfictionromance100words27072017/

For PART TWO:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/neelwrites3linetalesphoningaround-part2fiction28072017/

PART THREE: https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/

PART

FOUR https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritespart/

PART FIVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritessixsentencestoriesepisodesixofdangerouslovefiction/

 

neelwrites/firingaway/thursdayphotoprompt/fiction/260words/21/07/2017

Thursday photo prompt – Mask #writephoto

Hosted by the excellent Sue Vincent at https://scvincent.com/2017/07/20/thursday-photo-prompt-mask-writephoto/

#writephoto

FIRING AWAY

By Neel Anil Panicker

Sweet Alice. That’s what she was known as back in kindergarten.

Cute Al was what her grade one teachers addressed her as.

For a greater part of her schoolhood, Alice served as a most pleasurable stress buster for all.

All that changed when she tipped thirteen.

In a jiffy she turned from cutesy to voracious man eater.

Rohan was her first prey. The spindly guy with long locks who sat directly opposite her in class would never know what hit him.

Soon to follow were Amit and Mukesh, the former the class topper and the other junior football captain.

The next two months saw almost her entire class falling for her charms, whatever that may be.

By the time she left school, she had turned sixteen though was far from sweet.

Her assets included a bouncy voluptuous figure that had the potential to stop a ten tone truck on its tracks; jet black kohl lined bedroom eyes that held within them the promise of forbidden bliss; and a racy tongue that she used to good effect to entice, entrap and enlist more members to her ever burgeoning fan club.

She now boasted of an endless string of lovers, all snared, consumed and discarded within the span of 24 hours__the maximum retention period being an elephantine one week.

The fact that she had a short fuse only added fuel to the fire and as her infinite admirers would have testified, playing with fire had turned into a combat sport as they all rushed to bake their cakes in her red hot oven.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #Thursdayphotoprompt #fire #alice