Jul 9, 2014 Original Short Stories
Below is my short-story response to Rochelle-Wisoff Field‘s Friday Fictioneers prompt (photograph kindly provided by Kelly Sands). Thanks Rochelle and Kelly! If you are interested in reading more stories, click on this cute frog icon here:
Your curiosity will be well-rewarded with some of the most creative and diverse responses/stories you will read on the web.
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Genre: Mythological Fiction/ Science Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Titanic Emergence
©July 9th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
No one noticed the clouds that day, because people had been forewarned.
The alarm had sounded all over the globe — even the indigenous peoples in forests and hills and distant islands had been informed. Nobody ventured out.
When the clouds parted, a beam of light shot through and sucked up the entire planet.
Where the Earth was taken, no one knew. People’s eyes were shut tight, and they felt … translated.
Later, in a newly formed Universe, a new race emerged. Twelve people straightened up. Their heads brushed the edges of space.
“Let it begin again,” said Time.
And it did.
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Tags: #Original Short Story, 100-word short story, Flash Fiction, Kronos, Micro-Fiction, Mythological Fiction, Science Fiction, The Twelve Titans in Greek Mythology
Jul 2, 2014 Original Short Stories
PHOTO PROMPT, Copyright – Claire Fuller
This is my second 100-word story-attempt based on the above photo-prompt on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers blog-site. Hope you like it.
Genre: Mythological Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Circe
©July 2nd, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
You will not believe me, but I have to tell someone.
Come close and listen. Listen well. No, don’t look around you at the animals. Regard this statue. Doesn’t he look handsome? Doesn’t he look real?
What was that? Yes, the story.
His name was … perhaps you’ve heard of him? He was a sailor whom I lured to my island.
I was hungry for love.
Unfortunately, everything I touched turned into an animal, all, except for him. He turned to stone.
What? Release him? Why should I? I’ve crowned him king, and he won’t ever sail away.
I’m lonely here.
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, Circe, Flash Fiction, Micro-Fiction, Odysseus
Jul 2, 2014 Original Short Stories
PHOTO PROMPT, Copyright – Claire Fuller
This is in response to the above photo-prompt for this week’s “Friday Fictioneers,” which appears on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog. Every week, writers from around the world write a story based on the given photo-prompt on her site –and we have to do it in 100 words or fewer. Here’s mine.
Genre: Semi-realistic, semi-historical fiction
Word Count: 100
Reigning Supreme
©July 2nd, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
“Ozzie, this won’t make a difference,” said the brave Queen to the King.
Honesty was her greatest gift. It was also her downfall.
No one questioned him and lived.
The statue he commissioned was completed. Alas, the sculptor was also repaid with death, because the King wanted no replicas. He was that sort of king.
Eventually, everything in his kingdom fell apart. He died. Only the statue remained. Then, even that crumbled.
A traveller to his land found this on the pedestal: “My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”*
Only dust reigned.
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*With apologies to Percy Bysshe Shelley.
Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, Flash Fiction, Micro-Fiction, Ozymandias, Percy Bysshe Shelley, photo prompt, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Jun 27, 2014 Original Short Stories
This is my short story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100 words
Silence is a Tree
©By Vijaya Sundaram
June 28th, 2014
Sathya was exhausted. Yesterday, at work, she’d been reprimanded. Nobody had asked questions, or listened.
Every day, since the diagnosis of cancer two weeks ago, left her drained. She’d told nobody. She’d already hated her job. Now, she wanted to leave.
“I want to know things, like trees and birds,” she wept to her husband, who listened, aching within.
Today, they went to the woods with a book: Trees of North America. Birds sang in the shimmering air near a huge oak waiting for her.
“I’m home,” she said to her husband, face aglow.
He wept. The tree stood, silent.
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, Flash Fiction, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Silence, Tree
Jun 18, 2014 Original Short Stories
PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright -Mary Shipman
Below is my 100-word short story for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting, and to Mary Shipman for the photo prompt.
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Word Count: 100
Quake
©June 18th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Earthquakes don’t announce themselves.
Sujata was putting the baby to sleep. Sudhir would be home soon. She’d made fresh chappatis, dal and sabji for him, humming quietly. Although they were poor, and living in tenement housing, she felt fortunate — loved, at peace.
She’d had been brutalized at seventeen. Now twenty-four, married to a loving man, she’d learned to deal with her demons.
Such things don’t disappear. She’d been broken. Self-reconstruction was difficult.
A glimpse from her window made her freeze. Looking back at her from a window opposite was him. Their eyes met. He smiled.
Then, the earthquake struck.
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, Flash Fiction, Original short story based on photo-prompt
Jun 11, 2014 Original Short Stories
PHOTO PROMPT Copyright-Ted Strutz
This prompt proved to be difficult for me, in terms of what kind of story to write — in the end, I settled for realism and tried to mix in a little humor and menace– and tried to do it all inside 100 words. Hope you like the story! Thanks, as always, to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and to Ted Strutz for his evocative photograph-prompt!
(NOTE: I published this originally as “(S)Trapped (Down)!” — but I ended up editing it, tinkering with it, and incorporating some of the dock-and-sea imagery into my story. I also gave it a different concluding line.
Sea of Troubles
©June 11th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Dr. Drinkwater was drunk. He was old. His breath stank.
Get me out of here! I thought, panic rising in my throat.
I was trapped. Strange instruments held my mouth open (I hadn’t dared to peek, when I’d arrived).
Fool! I thought. You came here of your own accord. Now deal with it!
Mrs. Armstruther, Receptionist, tapped away at her computer. Outside, docked boats undulated greyly.
He advanced.
I whimpered.
Smirking, he said, “It’ll be all right.”
I gibbered.
Eyes narrowing, he snapped “Novocain!”
I fainted.
Awakening, I found myself far from shore, alone, afloat at sea.
I screamed.
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, Dentist's Room, Flash Fiction, Novocain drama, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, Shakespeare reference "sea of troubles", Strapped, Ted Strutz, Trapped
Jun 5, 2014 Original Short Stories
PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy
I couldn’t resist another story! Thank you to Friday Fictioneers pioneer, Rochelle-Wisoff-Fields, for hosting, and to Douglas M. MacIlroy for today’s prompt!
Euphemism
(My second 100-Word Response to this week’s prompt)
©June 5th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Sleep doesn’t come, despite his silent screams. A feverish disease consumes his bones. He dreams of cool, snow-covered mountains, an icy river, a boat. The darkness floods in from outside, swirling around his prone form.
Raju’s end is near. He is angry, afraid, and impatient.
Beside him, a woman sits, cigarette dangling from her lips, feet on table, three lit candles courting the darkness. She’s tapping a syringe.
There’s a spoon on the table, some jars fading into the mist that’s closing in, and a shell. Faint music wafts from it.
He croaks, “Give it to me.”
Shrugging, she does.
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Tags: #Death, #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, Euphemisms, Euthanasia, Flash Fiction, Pain
Jun 4, 2014 Original Short Stories
PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy
Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting Friday Fictioneers, and thanks to Douglas M. MacIlroy for this week’s photo prompt. Below is my 100-word story based on the prompt above.
Charon
©June 4th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
Heartbroken, I stumbled down a snow-smothered mountain. Hope and love were dead. It was time to end it.
Below, the turbulent river drew me like a lover. On its desolate shore, a boat waited to take me into a land from which I could never return. The seated boatman’s keen blue gaze sliced the air.
Mutely, I sloped river-wards, impelled by fate, impaled on grief.
Somewhere, above my consciousness, three candles flickered beside a spoon, some furry-slippered feet, a conch-shell, and a jar of peanut butter.
Pausing, I said, “Let me be.”
***
Hmm … thought my writer. Should he die?
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, Charon, Flash Fiction, Styx
May 28, 2014 Original Short Stories
PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright –Jennifer Pendergast
I must confess I was inspired to write another one. This prompt by Jennifer Pendergast is to blame. (Thanks, Jennifer! And thanks, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for hosting your wonderful 100-word, Fiction-Writing challenge for the Friday Fictioneers community every Wednesday! I hope I haven’t overstepped my bounds in attempting another story. If I have, I’m so sorry! If not, please let me know if you liked this one!
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Cogito, Err-go Sum, OR: De-Programming Perfection
©May 28th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
I remember that arch.
I’d seen it from a distance, knew the sacrifice it entailed.
I came from a world where only bleakness and machines existed. I had been one of them, perfect. I never made mistakes. I was programmed not to.
Someone had worked on me and given me form, flesh, a soul, a past and a passport.
“Now you may go. You can learn about our world,” she said.
I tried on gratitude. My voice was hoarse. “Thank you,” I said.
And I entered that other world through that arch.
I was human.
I erred.
Then, I cried.
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, #Perfection, cogito ergo sum, errors, From machine to man, programming and de-programming, to err is human
May 28, 2014 Original Short Stories, Teaching and Learning
PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright –Jennifer Pendergast
Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for creating Friday Fictioneers and posting a photo-prompt every Wednesday! I LOVE these prompts, and have only recently been contributing to this site. I love this site, because the Friday Fictioneers community is so supportive! I look forward to Wednesdays with an eagerness these days that I didn’t used to have — Wednesday used to be the doldrums of my week in general. Now, it’s the high point. Thanks, also to this week photographer, Jennier Pendergast for this lovely picture!
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I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
(From Ulysses by Alfred, Lord Tennyson)
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My story begins below:
The Arch Beckons
©May 28th, 2014
By Vijaya Sundaram
I gave it the old college try. Pored over tomes. Huddled in dark corners of libraries. Studied for days in artificial light, while outside, the world darkened, and then glowed bright again.
One day, it dawned on me. I had to leave.
Leaving is hard.
Armed with an F in Literature, Latin and in Comparative Linguistics, I packed my bags, called home, left my stepfather a terse message, “Am leaving. Am done. Don’t look for me. Thanks for nothing.”
The scars from him were nothing to what I’d acquired in the Sanctum of Learning.
The Sirens called. I heeded them.
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Tags: #Friday Fictioneers, #Original Short Story, Alfred, Arches, Dropout, Flash Fiction, Lord Tennyson, Sirens, The Old College Try, Ulysses