three line tales week 113: a close up of a road in Rome

By Neel Anil Panicker

As the plane landed on the airport tarmac accompanied by the deafening sound of the tyres hitting the asphalt below, the slight turbulence forced Edwin to look outside from his window seat.

Despite the very late hour, the city of New York looked dainty as if bedecked in the best of bridal finery and with the radiance of a thousand bright stars___the peaks of its towering skyscrapers bright blinking kaleidoscopic dots set against the backdrop of the star spangled skies.

Joining the passengers out of the exit gate, Ramesh found himself suddenly enveloped by a whirlpool of emotions as his mind grappled with the sudden mind numbing realisation that within fifteen minutes the unthinkable was about to happen __the much awaited, much coveted meeting with Arshi, his ‘online’ friend, the one he had known for the past six long years but never ever met.


Three Line Tales, Week 113

Hosted by SONYA at




three line tales week 112: an inquisitive sheep

photo by Sam Carter via Unsplash

By Neel Anil Panicker

Through the semi darkness, unmindful of the several pairs of eyes that pinned onto her, Sabina stared at her father, at her Abba, the sixty year old silver bearded man who had been her life, her heart beat through the tortuous turns their lives had taken so far.

Money, or specifically, the lack of it, coupled with keeping on with the diktats of non-existent family pride and honour had prejudiced him, forced him to bow the world around him, to view everything around him through cataract ridden, skewed blinkers.

Then, after what seemed an eternity, she lowered her head and through the thin veil that covered her moon-white face she half nodded her head,  signalling her acquiescence, her submission to the dictates of her father that she who had yet to see her sixteenth summer, get married to a man her Abba’s age, the lamb readying herself for the  slaughter.

#neelanilpanicker #ThreeLineTales #fiction #flash #instashorts #150words

Three Line Tales, Week 112

Three Line Tales, Week 112



three line tales, week 109: inside the wave

By Neel Anil Panicker

Life’s a beach, thought Mehul as he ogled on the endless stretch of near naked bodies in various stages of copulation, the sun’s rays making shimmering patterns on the sandy pebbles as human desires crested to stratospheric heights with every swig of the beer bottle and puff of cigarette.

Like pure honey dripping down one’s throat, sip by sip, the words of his mentor, Shobhan Bhai, trickled down his brain, tickling him no end: “Remember, when you are filthy rich no one cares how you earned them. Simply enjoy”.

Mehul Hitenbhai Choksi, until yesterday just another struggling small time jeweller, but today better known nee notorious as the master fraudster who had swindled Indian banks off trillions of dollars smiled into the sea, a slow, languorous spread that became one with the vast all enveloping spread of the froth filled crystal blue waters.

#neelanilpanicker #fiction #flash #threelinetales #shortstory #143words

Three Line Tales, Week 109



By Neel Anil Panicker

Ali looked on, nonplussed, individually scanning the faces of all the four.

His eyes bore through the tallest of the them, the long haired, nose pierced, teeth yellowed Lama.

The latter was nearing the end of his hour long monologue.

He had by now run threadbare through each detail, explaining, detailing and analysing the cumulative ramifications of it all.

‘So in effect you are saying that this bank, manned by an armed security guard and eighteen close circuit cameras and that too located bang on the middle of a perennially busy main thoroughfare is ideal for us to carry out a strike and scoot off with fifty million rupees, right?

“No, all I say is that it is a start if not the perfect one.”

©2018neelanilpanicker #125words #sixsentencestories

3.99 GB (26%) of 15 GB used


What Pegman Saw: Buckhorn Iowa

Hosted by  at


Image result for buckhorn, iowa

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘Hey Oscar, let’s investigate. It says Satan’s Playground’.

The two friends looked at one another as the sun’s rays receded from above their temples, slipping past the corner side street where they stood, their hands__tender and tucked inside over-sized pockets, a mere furlong from where they lived.

As the shadows darkened an eerie silence hung all over the derelict place.

“No ways. Uncle Tom’s warned us not to get anywhere close to this building. Says it’s infested with demons.”

‘What a load of crap! I’m going in, you sissy. I aint afraid’.

Oscar watched, his heart thumping faster than an unhinged yo-yo, fear writ large over his twelve-year-old face.

A jaunty pull over nonexistent fence, a clumsy hop and a skip thereafter, and Jonathan had swaggered in through the crumbling façade of the two storied ghostly post office.

By the time the screams erupted, Oscar had collapsed to the ground.



145th Challenge

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Week of 12-12 through 12-18-2017

Hosted by Priceless Joy at


By Neel Anil Panicker

Ismail Makhtoum stared at the strange concoction that had arrived on his table. For a moment he was tempted to call out to the waiter, the liveried ever smiling cartoonish character clad in a seven piece costume that reminded him of the Annual Fancy Dress Competitions back in his much lived much loved childhood in rural Ambosa.

Or still better, he wanted to kick the table aside and walk out of this fancy restaurant and walk into the nearest roadside shack by the beach and indulge in some serious lip smacking business__ducking and digging his teeth into straight of the sea slow cooked deep fried silvery salmons liberally peppered with what else but pepper and a dash of lemon.

But instead he looked through the grossly mangled partially sun burnt caterpillar like formations that crisscrossed the length and breadth of the fancy bone china plate and found what he was looking for.

The five gramme gold biscuit was there as promised.

He scooped it off and safely placed it in his inner trouser pockets alongside the evening tickets to New Delhi.

Just another day had begun in a carrier’s career.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #flash #shortstory #FFAW #SOMEDISH


FFfAW Challenge-Week of December 5, 2017

Hosted by Priceless Joy at



This week’s photo prompt is provided by Enisa. Thank you Enisa!

By Neel Anil Panicker

Inspector Sharma peeped in through the shattered glass panes.

A half eaten pizza, its edges smeared in blood, popped out of a Mcdonald’s take away box that rested on the plush seat covers.

The body lay slumped on the steering wheel, the hands loosened to the sides, the gun, a semi-automatic Colt, popping out of the jeans side pockets.

‘It looks like a gang war? Majid was a marked man.’

Inspector Sharma unburdened himself from the brand new Audi.

Why does this dimwit indulge his brain when he doesn’t have one.

“Pandey, arrange for the post-mortem immediately. Call forensics. I want every inch of space earched with a fine comb”.

‘Ok, Sir…sir…the cat…what do we do with it?’

Sharma turned around and looked at the front seat. She was still lost to the world.

“Don’t worry, she’s fine. She’s got many more lives to live”.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FFfAW #fiction #flash #shortstory #145words