neelwrites/timeforachat/FF/flashfiction/shortstory/100words/13/10/2017

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS hostedby the ever reliant Rochellewisoff

at https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/10/11/6-october-2017/

TIME FOR A CHAT

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘Cash, jewellery, appliances, cars…nothing’s missing. Looks like it’s personal.’

“Very personal”.

The two looked at the seven bodies strewn like mashed potatoes all over the tiled floor; their heads decapitated, hands tied to backs with nylon tape, every single body space sporting horrific burn marks.

‘Maybe, they were looking for information; turned mad when they didn’t find it, and decided to kill them all.’

“Could be, ” said Inspector Sharma as he moved towards the balcony.

“Bring her to the police station,” he said looking into the bejewelled eyes of the mynah.

“Once she talks, all secrets will tumble out.”

(c)neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #flashfiction #FridayFictioneers #100words

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neelwrites/deadleaves/spf/200words/flashfiction/25/09/2017

Sunday Photo Fiction – September 24th 2017

Hosted by SPF at https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/09/24/sunday-photo-fiction-september-24th-2017/

 

DEAD LEAVES, ALIVE MEMORIES

2012 09 September 24th 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

The short collars don’t get dirty and yellowed anymore.

Gone is the irritatingly hideous touch of slow burning sweaty droplets trickling down starched white shirts, the pungent smell staying with you long after an angry sun has closed shop for the day.

Missing too are the sight of mouth watering mangoes and blood red water melons; the young and not so young no longer await their turn to lick into delectable ice creams.

But then all that’s something nobody minds so terribly as what awaits is simply wondrous.

As the clichéd lines go, ‘It’s in the air’.

You can feel it in the slight early morning chill as you walk by neighborhoods swathed in a pastel green; the smiles are back in peoples’ faces; there is a soporific lightness in the air all around you that goads one to tuck away under warm sheets, stealing an extra six winks without the accompaniment of soul searing guilt.

All around there is a refreshing openness__be it in the skies above or the earth below.

It’s official: summer’s over, autumn’s here.

If so, can spring be far behind.

The air will soon be filled with romance.

Pity, all I have are but memories.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #SPF #flashfiction #autumn #200words

neelwrites/bababusted/fridayfotofiction/shortstory/10/09/2017

#FridayFotoFiction Sep 8-13 Prompt

Hosted by the wonderful Tina at http://tinabasu.com/mask-fiction-writing-fridayfotofiction/

BABA BUSTED

fiction Writing Friday Foto Fiction

By Neel Anil Panicker

He raised his hands to cover his face but the shutterbugs outsmarted him, capturing his shaggy, crestfallen visage, their high resolution lenses picking out every single fibre and tissue, pore and crease, capturing for posterity his misery and fall from grace.

He felt like being fed to the vultures, a piece of meat served on a platter for the pleasurable  consumption of voyeuristic masses.

The very same masses who even barely a day ago bowed their heads in deference and paid obeisance to him at his palatial ashram while he showered them with his benevolence from atop his majestic golden throne, surrounded, fanned and fawned by a never ending bevy of bewitching beauties. ‘Sadhvis’, he liked to call them in public.

The truth lay bare when one of them spilled the beans on his ‘nocturnal’ activities.

The wheels of fortune had turned fully for Baba Furqan Bengali whose new address read ‘Prisoner No. 537, Tihar Jail’.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #fridayfotofiction #shortstory

neelwrites/fingerpointing/FFfAW/fiction/shortstory/07/09/2017

FFfAW Challenge-Week of September 5, 2017

Hosted by Priceless Joy at  https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/09/04/fffaw-challenge-week-of-september-5-2017/

 

FINGER POINTING

 

By Neel Anil Panicker

Inspector Sharma looked one last time at the raised fingers.

The next moment he had left the hospital room and was making his way towards the elevator.

“It’s a murder. A well planned cold blooded murder”.

As the lift doors clanked shut, the ever smiling Constable Pandey bared his betel stained teeth.

“Sir, The doctor, relatives…All say it’s a natural death__massive coronary heart failure”.

Inspector Sharma looked across at the bloated frame in front of him, wondering not for the umpteenth time how the Police Department could be so naïve as to recruit such a bumbling buffoon.

“Look Pandey. What’re the facts. The dead man was 83, a bachelor, multimillionaire and with no legal heirs. Was being looked after by a 30-something virago whose got a crime record longer than the Nile.

They had almost hit the ground floor.

“…and he was paralytic, neck down; couldn’t move a limb.”

The lift doors sprang open.

“…which means someone raised those fingers”

‘Why would someone do that, Sir?

A hot blast of air greeted the duo as they hit the mid-afternoon Kolkata streets.

“That’s what I have to figure out, Pandey”.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FFfAW #fiction #shortstory

neelwrites/gettinglost/FF/shortstory/07/09/2017

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS hosted by the doyenne of charming historical fiction Rochelle at

8 September 2017

GETTING LOST

PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman

By Neel Anil Panicker

Ever since Arushi died, it seems he’s lost it.

Barren lands, the ominous skies above, the whistling of the westerly winds, the scary feel of giant lizards creeping through tattered jeans, the slow burning of his battered half baked soul ___he wants to experience all this, and then some more.

“Could you leave a forwarding address, someway we can keep in touch”, concerned, they gently asked.

He doesn’t honour them with a reply.

Guess, they understand. His sister recently gone, swallowed by cancer, and add to that Liza’s betrayal.

His cup of woes overflows, they aver.

Unmindful, he moves ahead, though unsure if can ever move on.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FF #99words #gettinglost

neelwrites/getaway/

WRITESPIRATION #131 52 WEEKS IN 52 WORDS WEEK 36

Hosted by SACHA BLACK at http://sachablack.co.uk/2017/09/06/writespiration-131-52-weeks-in-52-words-week-36/#more-5558

2017 brings 52 challenges over 52 weeks.

Your challenge is to write your story using the weekly theme/prompt and write it in just 52 words…. EXACTLY, no more, no less.

Submit your entries in the comments or on a blog post and I post them the following week with the new prompt. You have until Sunday to enter.

This week you need to write about the number 52

THE GETAWAY

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘52.’

“What?”

‘That’s your number. When it’s called, you step forward and board that vehicle over there.’

Ali looked at the direction of the assistant warden’s pointed finger.

Around 20 meters away stood a blue police van, its windows heavily barred, the engine running.

Ali winked at Salim, who smiled back slyly.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #52wordweeklychallenge #52

neelwrites/humanloveloader/spf/fiction/shortstory/04/09/2017

Sunday Photo Fiction – September 3rd 2017

Hosted  by https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/09/03/sunday-photo-fiction-september-3rd-2017/

Sunday Photo Fiction – September 3rd 2017

 

HUMAN LOVE LOADER  

210 09 September 3rd 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

As the armoured tank raced past the streets of Delhi, Captain Dharmesh Mahajan allowed his thoughts to wander back in time nine months ago.

A new recruit to the elite Military Engineering Services of the Indian Army he was being shown around his new unit.

He watched intently as a twenty something the tank loader picked up a Target Practice Tracer round and loaded it into the breech.

‘Fire,’ barked the tank commander, a thick set, moustachioched man.

Enclosed inside the tank capsule and out of sight, the gunner fired the gun and the breech block slided backward—straight toward the camera—ejecting the casing.

“Very soon human gun loaders will go the way of the dodo. They take up precious space, you see. Besides, the mechanical ones need not be paid.”

Mahajan looked at his Commanding Officer amusedly.

As Mahajan raced his M1 Abrams tank along the National Highway, he murmured to himself,  “Besides, they don’t behave like a Cupid-struck lovelorn and take off in a jiffy to meet their Valentine several hundred miles away.

©NEELANILPANICKER2017 #fiction #SPF #176