Pena, Portugal

Hosted by the wonderful H Hardy Carroll at

Pena, Portugal

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:



Image result for sundial, PENA, PORTUGAL

By Neel Anil Panicker




A woman’s face etched in a beatific smile and holding in her arms a barely three-month-old baby girl greets Emily.

A tear drops from her eyes as she places in her pint sized bag the sepia tinged black and white photograph, the sole reminder of the only family she ever had.

Outside, she cranes her neck upwards and peers into the sky.

The bright orb of fire sends a pleasant tingling sensation surging through her veins, warming the cockles of her heart.

‘But why’s there no blast? Why the delay?’

Emily wrings her hands anxiously and peers yet again into the sky.

Slowly, as if goaded by the power of her unflinching eyes, the clouds give way and bright dazzling rays sparkle onto the earth.

And then as if in pronouncement, a huge ear splitting sound blasts through the atmosphere.

It is the sundial’s cannon ball strike signalling noon time.

It’s also the prompt for her to head for the main road.

There awaits Francis, the love of her life, the liberator of her soul.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #whatpegmansaw #fiction #pena,Portugal


Three Line Tales, Week 78

Sonya at ONLY 100 WORDS has challenged us to write a three line tale from this photo prompt.


three line tales week 78: someone walks down the stairs at the Guggenheim Museum in NYC

photo by Mahdis Mousavi via Unsplash

By Neel Anil Panicker

Al slipped the phone back to its cradle, trudged back to his bare boned six by six darkened cell that he shared with one other inmate and there, left all to himself with only the stony walls for company, he began to ponder over the repercussions of his actions, the frighteningly damaging consequences of falling in love with Lisa.

She was ravishingly beautiful, a sex bomb, no doubt;  his hands had never felt so good on any other female form, the kisses never been so long and passionate with anyone else, his heart never flipping for anyone as badly as it had flipped for the very busty, feisty, sexually thirsty nineteen-year-old Liz.

But why then did Al feel as if he were forever climbing up a steep never ending staircase, one that had as many spirals going up as it had coming down? Why, what, and most importantly, whose wrath did he fear so much that even a moment’s solitude spent dreaming about Liz and her ‘oh so obvious’ pleasures was proving to be a Herculean effort?

(For those interested in the First Part please click on the link given below.

(neelanilpanciker2017 #3LineTales #fiction #shortstory #178words



Three Line Tales, Week 77

Hosted at


three line tales week 77: a pink jellyfish

photo by Pan Da Chuan via Unsplash

By Neel Anil Panicker

Marriage, for Esther, far from the idyllic paradise that she had dreamt it to be, turned out to be a  monumental disaster, what with every waking hour of hers metamorphosing into a never ending nightmare.

Not a moment passed without her sadistic shark of a husband sinking his blood thirsty flesh and chomping his unevenly large teeth into her porcelain china slender frame.

It was only when the extent of his atrocities hit the roof that she gathered courage to swim upstream and make friends with sea loving homo sapiens who were only too eager to wield their spears and put to eternal sleep the brute her hubby had turned out to be.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #3LineTales #jellyfish #fiction #113words



By Neel Anil Panicker

All his life he had refused to take a stand.

It was as if he had no backbone; was a puppet whose strings were pulled by others; others who rode roughshod over him, used and abused him as they went about fulfilling their individual objectives, he being an impotent bystander, a mere instrument, a disposable syringe to be used, abused, and then cruelly discarded as and when they felt like it.

And among these ‘others’ was also his mother whose pathological hatred for her husband, his biological father, manifested itself in he, their only child,  being used as a bargaining tool to gain the upper hand in what could euphemistically be termed as a ‘marriage not made in heaven.’

And then came the day when he saw her dousing him with petrol; his own father.

Seething with maddening rage, she glared with maniacal rage at her husband of thirty years, the matchstick steady in her hands, all set to roast him alive.

That’s when he took a stand, rushed in and smashed the burning flame from her hands, and as a fitting finale to all this, called in the police.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #sixsentencestories #stand #190words


This week Pegman takes us to Antarctica.

Cape Crozier, Antarctica

Hosted by the charming K Rawson at

Cape Crozier, Antarctica

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:



By Neel Anil Panicker

General Leal’s eyes never left the sumptuous spread laid out on the oblong metallic dinner table.

Shoving all niceties aside he attacked the food with a ferociousness that would put even a ravenous lion to shame.

In no time he and his two score odd men had gulped every single morsel of food.

“Hope you liked the sardines, General,” gushed Edward Philips in a convivial tone as he tried hard to conceal his amusement at the gastronomic antics on display.

As if in answer, gobbled in no time were tinned bacons, semi-cooked fresh vegetables, and an assortment of tongues__ox, sheep and pork__all watered down with hurried swigs of whisky.

Waving his arms around, Leal replied, “Look at my boys, Philips. Aren’t they all mighty happy? This is the first time in over two months that we’ve had a decent meal.”

Philips nodded understandably.

It was he, who had earlier in the day, after confirming that the new ‘intruders’ were not Russians but from ‘friendly’ Argentina invited the General over for dinner.

And it was he, a radio operator stationed at USAmunsen- Scott South Pole Station for the past one year who knew more than anybody else the perils of living in sub-snow Antartica.

©neelanilpanicker2017  #fiction #whatpegmansaw #Antartica


Operación 90 (Operation NINETY) was the first Argentine ground expedition to the South Pole, conducted in 1965, by ten soldiers of the Argentine Army under then-Colonel Jorge Edgard Leal. It was performed to attempt to cement Argentina‘s claims to a portion of Antarctica, as well as for scientific reasons and to perfect polar exploration techniques. The operation was named for the target 90 degree South latitude point (the geographic South Pole).

Leal’s team departed on six snowcat vehicles from General Belgrano Army Base on October 26, 1965. The main group was preceded by a scouting four-men patrol on a sled drawn by 18 dogs. While the scouts remained at 83° 2″ S, Leal and his men reached the geographic South Pole on December 10. They then returned to Base Belgrano, which they reached on December 31. Overall, the mission lasted 66 days.[1]

The operation was performed in secret so as not to upset the superpowers of the time, the United States and Soviet Union. The main purpose of the expedition was to exercise the claimed rights of Argentina to the continuation of its landmass which (along with almost the entire Western Hemisphere including the US and Canada) had been proclaimed as a Spanish entitlement by Pope Alexander VI in 1493 through the Treaty of Tordesillas.

General Leal and his men, shortly after arriving to the South Pole, were met by a radar operator from the USAmundsen–Scott South Pole Station, who asked them who they were and what they were doing there. The group, after Leal explained that they were not Soviets, was invited to take a meal at the American sub-snow base—the first decent food, said Leal, that the group had had in some weeks.





Sunday Photo Fiction – July 16th 2017

Hosted by



11 07 July 16 2017 Mike Vore Oh My Photos

© Mike Vore

By Neel Anil Panicker

The man on television was in a bad mood.

Inflation, depression, deprivation, lay offs …the words kept hurtling  out of his loud mouth faster than a prized horse’s incessant trots on racing day.

Ramnath felt a thick knot forming around his lower back; the muscles around his neck beginning to constrict.

Despite the cool wintry breeze outside, a wet dampness seeped past the dank surroundings like an unwelcome guest; a sticky fluid trickling down his rickety torso and firmly embedding itself into the hidden crevices of his grossly underweight frame.

As grainy images of further decadence infiltrated the screen, Ramnath’s already shrunken five foot something self seemed to shrivel even further; his hands and limbs turning inwards into a foetal position.

Dawn morphed into noon and then nightfall but his eyes remained static, staring listlessly into the half baked walls.

Much later, he staggered out into the open and stared listlessly at the only wealth that he ever possessed__ a half completed, fast crumbling apology of a mud house.

Then the clouds burst and drowned him in a torrent of rains.

It was then that reality struck him: a one legged cancer ridden man was persona non grata.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #SPF #theunwanted #194words


Three Line Tales, Week 76

Welcome to Week 76 of Three Line Tales.

Hosted by

Sky High

three line tales week 76: a woman dancing on a tennis court

photo by Sam Burriss via Unsplash

By Neel Anil Panicker

Sheena Bora, though footloose and fancy free, was made of sterner stuff, as evidenced by her dreams that kept getting bigger and bigger.

Each day she would inch closer and closer to achieving them, her laudable efforts though seen by others as a gargantuan struggle.

She was sure one day soon she would raise her slender frame and touch the sky, cupping it in her hands, her feet firmly grounded on terra firma.

©neelanilpanciker2017 #fiction #3LineTales #dreams