Love, Lord and the Abyss

‘You call it love my lord?’ said the Princess as she played with the curtains draped over the balcony. 

‘For there is nothing finer than your face, my lady,’ spoke the smitten Lord. 

‘But one must close their eyes to feel love, it has no sight. One cannot hear it, it has no sound. A deep abyss it is. Are you ready to dance in it, my lord?’

‘You frighten me of love my fair one, but my heart has been crossed, forever and a deeper abyss could do no harm.’ 

Gold Coins: Flash Fiction 

‘What is there that these gold coins cannot buy,’ said the merchant proudly. The coins with holes in them was hanging around his torso bound by a thick wire.

‘Gold coins you say,’ said the young man. ‘For the matters of the heart it is still the barter system.’ 

‘I will find you a trader for your heart,’ said the merchant and walked away. 

If you do wish for everything, sometime

‘You can’t have everything all the time, Princess Vali.’

The princess nodded her head silently.

‘But if you do wish for everything, sometime,’ added Lord Vadin, ‘Then you must do your best, and then let destiny roll the dice.’

And they watched the night sky fill with stars, the colors of the space engulfed the atmosphere.

The Stargazer 

‘Wouldn’t you agree that the night sky is much more interesting than the day?’

‘Why do you suppose so, Lord Vadin?’

‘There are plenty more characters at play under the starlight. There’s the cresent moon, and the constellation up there. While the mountains may be asleep and the cattles quiet, you get to see a different world, that one often sleeps through, without realizing how beautiful it is outside. That is what I think, princess.’

‘You sure are a stargazer my lord.’

Conversations: Flash Fiction

“You’re being pathetic,” exclaimed Yali.

“No, I’m not,” Bela cried back. “Or, may be I am.”

Yali slammed the laptop close that lay in front of Bela.

“It’s stupid to worry over a character, let alone a fictional one,” she said.

“Since I’ve heard that they don’t have the next book of the series, I’ve become restless,” Bela defended.

Yali arranged her desk. Bela drew her phone and started searching news updates for the novel she had been reading for the past two weeks. She stopped abruptly after entering the Google homepage.

“Do you think I’m being pathetic?” Bela questioned with a look of regret in her eyes.

“Perhaps, not.”

“See I told you I’m not being pathetic, right from the start.” “But sometimes I worry if I’ve taken the fiction world too seriously.”

“They say art is for our kind to enjoy,” Yali said, more warmly this time to console her little sister.

Bela opened her little black notebook. There were drawings of all kinds. Flowers, people, characters, cartoons.

“I sometimes wonder if the puzzles of our life would too fit the way they do in the stories. There’s always an author who knows everything,” she said as she turned the pages.

Yali gazed over the notebook, which was the world of her little sister. She had it since she was 12. It was a gift from their grandfather.

“The author doesn’t always know everything, wouldn’t you agree Bela?”

“I guess it’s a journey for them too, eh?”

“Yes, for those in the book and outside the book.”