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/fiction/shortstorey/39words/09/12/2017

 

#MicroMondays –

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The magic number for this week is 39, and it is from the 39th page of the book we have our prompt.

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IT SOUNDED SIMPLE IN THEORY

Hosted at https://looseendoftheredthread.wordpress.com/2017/12/04/micromondays-8/

By Neel Anil Panicker

Do a recee of a bank; rent a shop adjoining it; drill a hole upto the locker room; break-in on a holiday; escape with the loot_ it sounded simple in theory.

They didn’t factor the dog that awaited them.

(c)neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #flash #short story #39words #MicroMondays

neelwrites/tunnel/weekendwritingprompt/thursdayphotoprompt/fiction/flash/shortstory/07/12/2017

Thursday photo prompt – Portal – #writephoto

Written for  at https://scvincent.com/2017/12/07/thursday-photo-prompt-portal-writephoto/

Also for

Weekly Writing Prompt #118

Weekly Writing Challenge

DOOR Template Instructions
Poetry and/or Flash Fiction
December 4th 2017 | #118

(5) Words: | GHOST | PINCH | RATE | GOLD | BURY |

 

TUNNEL OF HOPE OR DESPAIR?

By Neel Anil Panicker

A beautiful woman, the most beautiful he had ever seen, her ‘slender as a twig’ body clad from top to bottom in white appeared out of the cumulus clouds above and swung a magical wand towards him.

Immediately, Richard felt a strange, tingling sensation all over his body as shiny golden beams of light lit the night sky.

The all white apparition smiled beatifically down at him.

A honey dipped voice, soft as gurgling mountain waters whispered,

“Young man, follow my instructions carefully for you are about to become the luckiest man on this planet. Take seven steps from the East of your hut and stop, facing the mango groves that lie beyond your backyard.

Now start digging fifty feet into the ground. You will soon hit a dead end. That is the clue for you to turn left and dig another two feet. Soon you will see a small slit in the earth. It leads to a tunnel.  Crawl through it for about ten feet and you will have entered a cave. It is the Abode of Kuber, The God of Wealth.

Buried there are glittering diamond necklaces, gold earrings, precious stones, silver, platinum… take what you want…it is limitless and they are all yours”.

Richard couldn’t believe what he was witnessing and hearing. The pupils of his eyes dilated twice its normal size. His ears lobes strained to catch the soft, magical voice that was being drilled into his head.

Could this be true? Will he become rich? With such wealth he can virtually rule the earth, be master of everyone, own everything that he had ever wanted or lusted after?

Still unbelieving of his good fortune, he pinched himself on the cheek.

“What’s this month’s rate?”, he heard a familiar voice shouting into his ears.

Richard opened his eyes and found himself staring into the perplexed face of Raghav Sir, his regular customer, the gentleman from whom he bought old newspapers. Old newspapers that he bought and sold for a living. His dream had just turned to dust.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #flash #shortstory

neelwrites/nosecondtake/flash/shortstory/sixsentencestories/07/11/2017

Welcome To Six Sentence Stories

Hosted by ZOE at

https://unchartedblogdotorg.wordpress.com/2017/11/01/welcome-to-six-sentence-stories-70/

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This week we join our intrepid adventurers as they craft six (and only six) sentences into a full fledged story, using any genre they like. As with other weeks they will be using one cue word as the concept for their masterpiece, which they will add to the link below.

What cue is this week’s challenge you ask?    SUBSTITUTE.

 

NO SECOND TAKES

By Neel Anil Panicker

Benny looked up as the clouds above rumbled and grumbled like a five-year-old who finds his favourite chocolate dipped milk glass strangely only half filled.

‘Dammit, a bad time for the skies to cry out.’

His eyes cast a quick, furtive look at the gasoline lit near empty street that snaked ahead almost to eternity and joined the periphery of the village that lay beyond.

Satisfied that none were at hand to watch his deed, he pulled the long kitchen knife that he had tucked inside his jeans back pocket and kneeled down on the muddy road.

‘If life doesn’t provide for a substitute then it is better to take it away’, so saying he thrust the six-inch long blade deep inside the still breathing heart of Elwin, his childhood best friend.’

‘Henceforth, there would be only one school champion.’

©NEELANILPANCIKER2017 #FICTION #FLASH #SIXSENTENCESTORIES #NOSECONDTAKES #140WORDS

neelwrites/winsome,losesome/tellmeatalein120words/shorstory/04/11/2017

TELL ME A TALE IN 120 WORDS

tmat120

Written for #TMAT120 hosted by  at https://rantingalong.wordpress.com/2017/11/02/joelles-tales-first-thursday-of-the-month-tmat120-writing-prompt-for-november/

 

 Today’s prompt is:  Why you love, or dislike, the holiday season.

WIN SOME, LOSE SOME

By Neel Anil Panicker

The holiday season is soon to hit upon us.

Every single thing leading to it ___the fun, the excitement, the coming together of long lost friends and relatives, the entire paraphernalia surrounding the merry season makes it one big and endless roller coaster ride, right?

Well, not always. At least not for those who are sick, or if they are school and college going kids and have examinations on the anvil and hence are unable to join in whole heartedly in the otherwise invigorating gung ho spirit that envelops everyone.

That’s when one seriously begins to question the rationale behind the world and her backyard declaring themselves as being on a grand holiday while one sits and twiddle ones’ thumbs.

(c)neelanilpanicker2017 #flash #shortstory #120words #TMAT120 #TELLMEATALEIN120WORDS #holidayseason

neelwrites/wintersareawinwin/nonfiction/myfavouriteseason/09/09/2017

WINTERS ARE ALWAYS A WIN-WIN

Image result for cold winter days

By Neel Anil Panicker

We all have our favourite  season of the year, don’t we?

Winter is my favourite season. I have always loved the winters.

For me the joy of winters begins much before the actual four month long winter season sets in.

 There is that slight chill in the air, especially in the early mornings, when while walking past long blades of grass over to the park, you feel the slight moistness in the air; the soil, if you care to touch leaves you with a sweet tangy wetty feeling.

 And soon enough the air above changes as the sky changes hues, quickly going from bright red to mauve, to mahagony and a hybrid orangish, magenta,  pink mix.

 

The air all around becomes dense and hangs like bat’s overhanging wings casting long dark shadows all around.

All through the wintry chill you feel as  if enveloped in a dank embrace as the sun, hitherto bright and sparkling, begins to play second fiddle, only occasionally peeping out through dark nimbus clouds, showering small little petals of  heat, just enough to warm the cockles of puckered hearts.

Winter is also the time when I get to cover myself in glory, adorning my already stocky frame in layers and layers of my favoured clothing materials__be it plain jet black and smoky maroon silk scarves, pure leather multi-pocketed jackets, knee high boots et al.

Winter again is when my sartorial senses come to the fore allowing me to raid the cupboard to extricate the best of woollen wear, dusting and drying them weeks ahead, even sending them to the dryers if need be, and then gloriously waltzing down the chilly snow laden streets, gently rubbing mummified fingers wrapped in gloved hands and exhaling deep pearly breaths into the rarefied air.

And how can I forget the gastronomic pleasures that await a foodie such as me during this cold season!

Leisurely mornings are best savoured lying tucked in bed under the comfort of heavy silk blankets while biting into hot samosas and pakoras dipped in green chutneys, sipping hot Darjeeling tea in crystal glasses while locking horns with crosswords and sudokus.

I mean I can go on and on as there is no end to the delights that await me come the winters for this is one season that I never whine about but instead always pine for.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #nonfiction #winter  #myfavourite season

neelwrites/52weeksin52wordschallenge/fiction/dialogue/20/07/2017

WRITESPIRATION #124 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 29

Hosted by Sacha Black at

http://sachablack.co.uk/2017/07/19/writespiration-124-52-weeks-in-52-words-week-29/

This week tell your story using dialogue only.

HANGING UP

By Neel Anil Panicker

“Why don’t you pick up the phone?”

‘What’s it? I’m busy’

“I want to speak to you.”

‘You’ve spoken enough?’

“No, I want to say something.”

‘Everything’s been said. There’s nothing more to say.’

“No, please don’t say that.”

‘It’s over.’

“Nooo…please…please talk…please…just once.”

‘It’s over.’

“Please, please…don’t say that… I’ll die”

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #52words #dialogue #52weeksin52words