Two Women In Their Graves And The Cat That Did Not Wait To Cross

This short piece is in response to flash/drabble photo-challenge posed here by Morgan Bailey.

He locked up the doors. One can’t be too cautious in these matters.  The call he had received in the morning…

He hurriedly took the car out of the garage – he was already running late.

Just in case…the gun was loaded and in its place, he had checked.

It all happened quite unexpectedly just when he exited the driveway slowly, easing onto the street…the darned cat did make it safely to the other side by a whisker not coming under the wheels or hit splat.

His old lady would have ordered him to get going – auguries and omens were not for her. Steadying himself he drove on – he could ill-afford to miss the meeting from start.

Half way up the street he saw a parked car with all glasses rolled up. Now his usual alert self, he sped past the car with one hand on the gun. Nothing happened. Must be his jangled nerves playing up?

In this time, as the black piece of fur scurried away for the nearest bush, ‘sh#t,’ the hooded man cursed his luck, and abruptly dropped to the floorboard inside the parked car. To heck with…his mom was not once wrong over these ‘messages’. Was it simply not the day to pick or it was something more portentous?  Needed figuring out.

End

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Now You Know Why They Tell You…

to see god in everything around you in all the life around you as in your boss, wife, children, Amazon, United, government…and in non-life too like the pothole on the road…?

They all have choices of their own:-(

buddha-53255_1280

By David Berger

This guy comes back to his apartment late one night, and there’s a golden statue of a god he doesn’t recognize in his living room.

“What the hell?” he says.

“Hell is a state of mind,” the statue says.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” he asks.

“You want me to be elsewhere?” the statue asks.

“I have a choice?”

“You always have a choice,”

“Can I choose you to be elsewhere?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I choose you to be elsewhere.”

The statue stays where it is.

“What happened?” he asks.

The statue shrugs its shoulders. “We all have choices.”

         
David Berger is a self-described “old guy from Brooklyn, now living in Manhattan with my wife of 25 years: the best jazz singer in NYC. I’m a father and grandfather. I’ve been, among other things, a case worker, construction worker, letter carrier, high school and ESL…

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Carriers (101 Words)

They filed down Main Street, stone-faced, pitiful, dragging their loads resolutely behind them.

“Who are they?” I asked someone.

“Carriers,” he said. “Odd bunch. Anything that hurt them goes in those packs.”

“Anything?”

“Look for yourself.”

Their packs overflowed with knives and glass shards, snakes, and cigarette packs.

Pins.

Needles.

Books stacked several rows deep.

A whole stove top.

Guns beyond counting.

“They carry all that weight their entire lives. Weird, right?”

I thought of the photo inside my wallet: her smile and wisps of loose hair around her temples.

“No,” I replied, slowly. “I don’t think it’s weird at all.”

End

Source: Matt Spaetzel in 101words.org

Mind Is A Lonely Place (50+Words)

india-1427989_960_720 Pixabay

The ride to the railway station had been tiring.

Through the window she could see him hurrying away as the train pulled out slowly, puffing and panting.

Her mind, for no reason, went back to the time when she did not have the baby.

She was even ready with a name: ‘Asha’ meaning Hope.

End

 

 

 

Source: Inspired by a post in Pinterest, image from Pixabay.

Time To Go (50 Words)

 

 

Bus flickr com

At breakfast,

‘Your boss is in town?’

Silence.

‘Got pulled up or something?’

More silence.

Finally, ‘Nothing, but why do you ask?’

‘This week you are leaving home early at half-past. I’ve never seen you…now there, why don’t you finish your…’

Just right for the bus to the Central Park.

End

 

 

Image: flickr.com

The Journey (A Drabble of 100+ Words)

This morning…

Someone tapped on the shoulders startling me out of my snooze. A voice asked where was I going. A profound question from some inquiring soul aspiring to be clued into life’s philosophy – my life’s, a journey of three score years plus till date. An admirable pursuit of vicarious learning, I thought. I collected my wits in a trice, not to keep a thirsty knowledge-seeker waiting. Looking up, I discerned the form coming into clearer focus.

Well, an acolyte he wasn’t.

‘Colaba,’ I muttered, hurriedly fishing in my pockets for change.

The journey-ticket was thrust into my hand as he moved on.

End

The Haunt (A Spooky Story For Children)

‘Send him in,’ manthreekan tells his assistant.

A man enters, wrapping himself up head to toe in a shawl, looking like a man on the streets of Delhi on a December night. He is led to stand before a cloth screen. Manthreekan doesn’t see anyone face-to-face during these sessions to conserve his shakti.

‘Tell me.’

Mantra

In a soft voice, ‘Sami, until a week ago, it was very peaceful where I live. In fact, I haven’t seen anyone else in the tenement house ever since I moved in. Suddenly one night I hear this woman from a room across the corridor…she whines and wails all night like someone in her family has died.’

‘Well, you can’t expect your landlord to keep the rooms vacant. He has found a tenant. So, go and tell the woman to shut up. If she doesn’t listen, tell the landlord.’

‘I did, Sami. On the second night, when she was in full cry. Could bear no more. I decided to confront her…’

‘And?’

‘Well, I went in…it was not locked from inside…strangely the light was switched on…the room was bare of any furniture and fixtures. Only a cloying fragrance of jasmine in the air. And no woman!’

‘Ah, this gets interesting…’

‘Sami, I immediately recognized it is a woman’s spirit that has made it its home.’

‘And then?’

‘I also knew what would drive her out. With great difficulty and by some means, I got laid out in her room cloves of garlic and neem leaves in a generous spread, though I’m severely allergic to them myself. A near-death task for me, but sure to fix her.’

‘You did right. I too would’ve done as much. So why have you come here? You seem to know…’

’But this woman proved to be a tough nut. There was no wailing for an hour and then it resumed like before. Next day morning I saw the garlic cloves and neem leaves crushed and left in a dump nearby.

‘I said to myself, ‘Lady, if that’s what you want, a war of attrition, I’m ready.’ So, I somehow managed to have the antidote arranged again and again for four successive nights. No dice – she is made of stronger stuff. Now I’m here to seek your help.’

‘Well, you’ve come to the right place. I’ve handled more stubborn spirits.’

‘I’ve heard about it, Sami. My methods are not working. That’s why…’

‘This is not for amateurs…It’ll cost you money.’

‘Look at me, Sami. Have mercy. Please…’

‘God, why must I draw such impecunious folks…Okay, I’ll take it up for free just this once. Don’t ever show your face again without moola. You think I can live on fresh air…my shakti doesn’t go that far yet.’

‘I’m indebted, Sami…’

‘Okay, okay…quiet now.’

Sounds and smell of herbs and grains being ground with a pestle emerge from behind the curtain followed by chants of some esoteric invocations.

A little later, the assistant is summoned. The visitor receives an amber colored bottle from him.

‘Sprinkle this all over in her room. Remember this, it must be done before sunset.’

‘Sami, it would work, no?’

Manthreekan is offended: ‘How dare you doubt my shakti! Not just the woman, her entire family if resident would be thrown out…not merely from the tenement house, but from whole of this town.’

‘Excellent, just what I wanted…just one more thing, would it hurt me too, Sami, if I touch or spill?’

‘Why should it, eh? It’s specially targeted at her. It won’t harm anyone else. Now go.’

The visitor is mighty pleased. He would now have a free run of the house as before.

As he steps out on the street, a gust of wind blows lifting the shawl up.

The assistant isn’t sure of what he is seeing.

Mantreekan is right asking him sternly to abstain forthwith before it is too late. These days he sees things that aren’t and sees not things that are. It would only make the matter worse if he tells them he saw a man walk on no legs!

End

PS: Manthreekan is one proficient in manthra’s to engage with gods and spirits.

Source: Inspired by a one-pager in Kumudam, image from energymuse.com.