Jul 3, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction
Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
A Fairy Tale Lighter Than Air
©July 3rd, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Pearl-grey light crystallized on my window. Weaving leaves on my loom, I awaited that which would break the spell cast upon me and the world by the Queen of Darkness.
And as I wove patterns more delicate than air, the air around me grew lighter. My heart quickening, I wove faster. I dreamed the sun, and wove it into my cloth. The bright green of Spring and the flowers of Summer glimmered into being, as my hands raced across the shuttle.
And then, I wove Her.
NO! she screamed, emerging angrily before me.
Slowly, I unwove her.
Only light remained.
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I decided that I’d write a story that wasn’t about disappointment, lost hopes, sadness and the like this time around. Hope you like it!
Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Fairy Blog-Mother, for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and for that lovely photo-prompt! Hope you like my fairy-tale, dear Fairy Blog-Mother!
Tags: #FairyTale, #FridayFictioneers
Jun 30, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction, Uncategorized
Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Winter of Our Ennui
©June 30th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
You and I are like frost on that windowpane. Somewhere along the way, ennui and coldness set in. Our children have grown, and have children of their own.
What do you contemplate while you eat your dinner blankly, sitting opposite me? I know what I think of. I think of beautiful, vibrant you, filled with a life-force that seemed that it could never be squelched, back when when I wooed you. I remember your smile scorching me like a bolt of lightning. I miss it, endlessly, achingly, like summer-shine.
I want to break that window. I want to end winter.
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Thanks to Fairy Blog-Mother and story-teller extraordinaire, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for that beautiful photo-prompt, and for hosting Friday Fictioneers with such grace and style week after week.
Tags: #FridayFictioneers, #Original 100-word Flash Fiction based on a photo-prompt, #Reference to Shakespeare's line from Richard III
Jun 23, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction, Original Short Story
Word Count: 100 words of text, exactly
Genre: Realistic fiction
Airborne
©June 23rd, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Settling comfortably in her seat, she looked at her neighbor. His aquiline nose caught the light as he turned and intercepted her frank gaze, his brown eyes bright, expression blank. He looked away.
What if he’s a terrorist? she asked herself with a tremor. Should I tell the steward?
She scolded herself for being paranoid, she, who prided herself for not judging someone by appearances.
Still.
What should I do?
Making up her mind, she said, “I’m Anu. I’m a science teacher.”
He shook her proffered hand. “Firdoos Hassan. Morocco. Physics professor.”
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
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With thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Fairy Blog-Mother and friend to all at Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rich Voza for his photograph, which has made me spawn three stories.
Tags: #FridayFictioneers, #Original 100-word Flash Fiction based on a photo-prompt, #Passing Casablanca reference
Jun 22, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction, Uncategorized
Word Count: Exactly one hundred words
GenreU Greek Mythology
Ship of Fools
©June 22nd, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Come, Phoebus-Helios, in your chariot of gold. Awaken the sluggish morning – your sister, Eos, lies dreaming, while Tithonus grows as old as Time.
Come, rosy-fingered Dawn, Eos – touch this air-ship thing with gentle light. This imitation-bird, this parody of flight offends the gods, but you, with your brother Helios, sister, Selene, and your son, Zephyrus, can guide it home safely, if you so wish.
Yes, it has wings, not like yours, but wings, nonetheless.
Do they offend you? Take your ire elsewhere. This contains humans.
So, you don’t care for a bunch of pathetic, snivelling fools?
Still, try and restrain yourself.
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Thanks to our Fairy Blog-Mother, Rochelle Wisoff -Fields, for her dedication and unflagging encouragement and kindness to us all. Thanks, also, to Rich Voza for that vivid and arresting photograph.
Tags: #FridayFictioneers, #Original 100-word Flash Fiction based on a photo-prompt
Jun 9, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction
Word Count: 100 words of text, exactly
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Drowning and Flying
©June 9th 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Recently divorced, she lives with her son, and struggles to keep them afloat.
Tonight, she dreams she’s underwater. There are no mermaids or mermen, no sea creatures, no coral reefs to be discovered – just water everywhere, greenish-blue salt water, and broken plastic.
She dreams she is drowning in it all, and brackish water is entering her lungs.
That’s when she awakes, heart hammering in her ribs, breath coming out in jerks.
She lies awake, troubled, agitated, thinking of the future her son will face.
Finally, she falls asleep, and dreams of star-ships and warp-drives.
Dreaming, she begins to smile.
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Thanks to Fairy Blog-Mother, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and to Doug McIlroy for the photograph.
Tags: #Diving helmet picture, #FridayFictioneers, #Original 100-word Flash Fiction based on a photo-prompt
Jun 9, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction
PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy
Word Count: 100 words of text, exactly
Genre: Bizarro Fiction
Strawberry Jam
©June 9th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The two children hid, naively certain they were invisible.
Wearing a diving helmet, their father approached them. “I see you,” he boomed.
Something was off.
Jade nudged Jolen. “Doesn’t sound like Dad. Let’s jump out the window.”
Observing his father crawling around burbling, Jolen nodded nervously.
Jade jumped into the strawberry bushes below. Jolen tried to follow her, but a squishy hand closed over his leg.
Jolen bit the hand. It immediately let go. He jumped out.
“Funny, he tasted like jam,” he remarked, as they ran.
Inside, an oozing beast roared as it tried to eat its own head.
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With thanks, as always, to Fairy Blog-Mother, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and to the incomparable (and currently absent from FF) Doug McIlroy for that very strange photograph.
Tags: #Bizarro Fiction, #FridayFictioneers, #Original 100-word Flash Fiction based on a photo-prompt
Jun 1, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction, Uncategorized
Word Count: 89 words of text, exactly
Genre: Mythological epochal fiction
Wheel
©June 1st, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The wheel turned, and time turned with it. The earth rose and fell in large, slow panting gasps.
No one knew the stone-and-mud abode existed. This valley had been formed millennia ago when the earth yawned, and everything caved in. All that was left was this dwelling.
Well, not just that. There was a person inside, sleeping. When the wheel turned again, he awoke.
“Mother?” he called, confusedly. Where was his large family whose footsteps shook the world?
Earth answered. The valley tumbled into oblivion.
The man slept again.
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Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, our Fairy Blog-Mother, for hosting Friday Fictioneers, where story-tellers gather from around the world. Thanks, also, to Piya Singh for that lovely photograph!
Tags: #FridayFictioneers, #MythologicalFiction, #Original 100-word Flash Fiction based on a photo-prompt
May 26, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction, Uncategorized
Dream a Dream of Love
May 26th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
As the waves sweep towards these rocks where he stands, he dreams.
He is holding his beloved in his arms, she of the gossamer hair and glimmering eyes, of the breath sweet as wildflowers, she of the voice like the sighing sea-breeze, of the laughter that broke upon his heart, like the waves breaking upon these rocks.
He dreams she loved him and he loved her back, but in time, his heart turned hard.
When he left, she walked into the sea.
Dreaming, he mourns, as the water surges around him.
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With thanks to our beloved Fairy Blog-Mother, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and for today’s beautiful photo-prompt.
Tags: #Dream, #FridayFictioneers, #Love, #Original 100-word Flash Fiction based on a photo-prompt, #Sea
May 24, 2016 Original Flash Fiction, Original Short Story, The Daily Post
Dream-Song
©May 23rd, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
Out of the dust rose Dream.
And Dream held in her palm a flower of darkness, gathering her raiment of chaos around her body. She stood tall and black, full of stars in her pockets, and full of inchoate longing, for she was all alone, and loneliness wasn’t yet born.
She looked around her, saw no one, and yearned blindly for that which had no name.
A song arose in her, full of hunger for someone to hear her.
And Dream sang a song that wound around all the worlds there were and the worlds to come, her song a whispering thread of shining silver that edged the darkness, to light the way for Someone.
Her song held stories that stirred in many minds, stories of things to be, stories of love and death, and suffering and peace.
One day, her song came whispering into the mind of a man who had no eyes to see with. He spent his days begging on the streets, singing a tuneless song about loss and loneliness. Out of pity, people fed him, and clothed him, but they would have no more to do with him, for they feared his misery and his loneliness, for these clung to him like a shadow.
Into this mind, Dream blew her song, and into his lap, she dropped the flower of darkness, and the man who was lonely now knew he had found someone.
And Dream wound lovingly into his world and brought him the gift of seeing into, and beyond, what was there, so that when the blind man lay down at night on the wretched sidewalk where he spent his days begging, he saw stars and a sky that went all the way into him.
And his song changed.
He sang of the beauty of life, of the beauty of love, of his companion whom no one could see. He sang of stars and sky, of the universe and of friendship. He sang like one possessed, and now the people reviled him, saying, “Surely he must be mad, for he sings of things that he cannot see, nor know nothing of.” And they beat him about the head and shoulders, even as he sang.
He cried out at first, but they didn’t hear, so loud was the clamour around him. He sang louder and louder. They berated him loudly and beat him some more. He sang louder still, with broken and bleeding voice, about mercy.
Now, tired of beating him, the people went away, saying, “He is possessed of the devil. See how he sings about that which he cannot know!” They cautioned children to stay away from him, when some, touched by his song, and moved by his plight, tried to go close and listen.
Nobody fed him any more, for they were afraid of the blind man with his unending song. And now, they felt a darkness closing in on all of them.
Bloody and crazed, the blind man sang in sun and darkness, in rain and wind for seven days and seven nights. Now, his song changed, and he sang of blood and war, and spite and hatred.
Dream watched from afar. And she suffered, because she knew what he was becoming, and why. She had no way to stop him, and her heart was sore. For, she had sung to him, and caused him to sing.
On the seventh night, the man died.
The people of the city caused his body to be thrown far from the city gates for the vultures to feast on. They were afraid, and did not know why.
And Dream watched, with quickening breath.
Suddenly, there was movement beside her. She turned, and caught her breath. For there, in front of her, arrayed in gold and red, bigger than the worlds she saw, stood the blind man whom she had driven mad. With smoky eyes, he smiled at her, and held out his hand. She stepped back.
“You came to me,” he said, and his voice was soft. “You sang to me. I am yours.”
“What do you call yourself?” asked Dream.
“Ah, but surely you know the answer to that!” smiled the Man.
And she did.
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Written in response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Dream
Tags: #AllegoricalFiction, #DailyPrompt, #Dream, #OriginalShortStory, #TheDailyPost
May 18, 2016 Friday Fictioneers, Original Flash Fiction, Original Short Story
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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll
Word Count: 100 words of text, exactly
Genre: Realistic and semi-Paranormal Fiction
Beyond the Veil
©May18th, 2016
By Vijaya Sundaram
The waiting was hard, but it was all Santosh could do. Images of his new bride, now in the hospital, flooded his mind.
Standing up suddenly, he brushed his shock of black hair back, went to the window, and looked out blindly. The world was racing towards its goalless future. He couldn’t care less now about others. Only the present mattered.
Suddenly, he felt a touch on his shoulder. He turned, and smiled in joy. “Amala! Wait … how are you here?”
She laid a finger to her lips.
The door opened. The surgeon entered, face sombre.
The room spun around.
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With thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Fairy Blog-Mother to all of us who cannot wait for her munificence (:-) ), and to J. Hardy Carroll for that evocative photograph which puts us all in mind of eternal waiting rooms.
Tags: #FridayFictioneers, #LoveandDeath, #Original 100-word Flash Fiction based on a photo-prompt