Feb 4, 2016 Daily Life, Uncategorized
Shadows of the Real
©February 4th, 2016By Vijaya Sundaram
Shadows chase shadows chasing shadows
And mirrors reflect mirrors reflecting mirrors.
And you stand to one side,
A shadow within a shadow,
Leaving behind no dent,
Causing no reflections,
Barely a whiff of air to prove you existed.
So easy to say, “What’s the point?”
As you watch squirrels chase each other
In pseudo-Spring in January.
So easy to feel nothing, nothing at all!
So easy to fold clothes endlessly,
Wash dishes, and see reflections
Bouncing off metal and glass.
So easy to get upset at news
And shrug silently, and watch
Dog settle with sigh upon couch
Knowing all reality is where one is
And yet, knowing that is not all–
Children wash ashore cold and dead,
And children from the cradle of the world
Lie hurt and fearful far away
In cold lands where they would
Rather not have been,
But for the hate and rage of adults.
Contradictions will kill us all
But we butter our toast
And drink our coffee
And read a book,
And wonder where Time went.
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Tags: #Contradictions, #Life, #Original Poetry, Syrian refugees, War
Feb 4, 2016 Friday Fictioneers
Word Count: 100 words of text, exactly
Genre: Fantasy Fiction
Among the Water-Hyacinths
©February 4th, 2016By Vijaya Sundaram
The King lay in the arms of his best friend, bleeding to death.
“I wish it hadn’t ended like this,” he rasped, eyes filming, a shroud of regret settling on him.
“It’ll be all right, Sire, you’ll see,” said the First Adviser, his best friend, whose hands and clothes were blood-bespattered. “The kingdom won’t fall. I promise. I’ll see to it. And I’m sorry.”
Twilight trod the land. The water-hyacinth-choked river shone strangely bright.
“Will you tell them I did my best, although I failed? Will you bury me with the knife you plunged into me?
The First Adviser wept.
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Thanks, once again (for the third time today) to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, our gracious Fairy Blog-Mother and host of Friday Fictioneers, and to Erin Leary, for that photograph which is so haunting!
Tags: Friendship and death, Original 100-word short story based on a photo-prompt
Feb 4, 2016 Friday Fictioneers
Word Count: 100 words of text, exactly
Genre: Quasi-historical fiction
Expedition Denial*
©February 4th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Water-plants choked the river. Below, lurked hungry crocodiles. They’d already gone far enough. Food on board was dwindling. The natives they’d met on the shores, strange dark-skinned people (indubitably, cave-dwellers), looked unfriendly. The soldiers on the ships were now close to mutiny.
Their leader sighed. It was all going so wrong, when it had started so promisingly. How was he to face everyone back home?
“We’ve no choice,” he said, announcing his intention to turn around and head home. “Nero’s expedition has failed, because water-hyacinths blocked our passage to the Sudd of Nubia.”
Cheers erupted. He permitted himself a smile.
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- For further context, listen to my favorite composer-singer, the mysterious Moondog, who wrote a song about this topic:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1px3kPBusCA - Another cute piece of information on the Sud, or Sudd of Nubia: http://pendletonanderson.com/delights_spring_2014/where_is_the_sud_or_sudd_of_nubia/
Thanks, again, to our benevolent Fairy Blog-Mother host, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, who runs Friday Fictioneers, and to Erin Leary for that evocative photograph-prompt.
Tags: Moondog, Nero's Expedition, Original 100-word short story based on a photo-prompt
Feb 4, 2016 Friday Fictioneers
Word Count: 100 words of text, exactly
Genre: Somewhat-Realistic Fiction
Life is But A Dream
©February 4th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The clouds loomed. The air was still with expectation. Water-hyacinths choked the river.
“Why this route?” I complained for the umpteenth time.
“There isn’t any other route,” replied the boatman, sullenly.
Suddenly, the boat stopped. Now, totally out of patience, I stormed at him. “Why aren’t we moving? Row me ashore, you damned fool!”
He smiled tightly. “Be patient, sir,” he replied. Then, “Look!” he added, pointing.
I looked where he pointed. The next moment, I was in the water, and the boatman pulled away, glee making his face a demon mask.
I tried to swim.
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Thanks, as always, to our host at Friday Fictioneers, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (whom I have dubbed our Fairy Blog-Mother), and to Erin Leary for the photo-prompt.
Tags: Boatman, Life is But A Dream, Original 100-word short story based on a photo-prompt, Water-hyacinths