Week 13- Fly on the Wall
#1 The Bedroom
He sat there staring at the floor.
Wondering how he would break it to her. She had been so looking forward to this
weekend. It had been months since they last went out together. Since he last
held her. Since he last felt her skin, her breath. Since he last made love to
her. But how could he? The photo frame on the wall, hung carefully over the bed
showed them all so happy. All three of them. Alex would be 10 years old by now.
Next week would be his birthday. Maybe he’d ask for a Play Station this time…
or probably a bike with gears.
He would never know.
He checked his phone again. Another text.
“Honey, let’s meet up this weekend…. You
and me, we’ll go to some beach, rent out a lovely lodge. It’ll be fun.”
It had started almost a year back. 4 years
after having lost his only son, John had finally found a refuge from his
silent, progressively growing cold, dying marriage. Her name was Betty. They
met at a convention and immediately hit it off. At that time, he had no idea
that she would come to be his only solace.
But what about Emily? Was he just supposed
to ignore her?
Emily was a wonderful wife, and a great
mother. She took very good care of both of them. But… this wasn't about her. HE
could not bring himself to face her, not after what he did.
Alex died in a car accident. He was only 6.
Glancing one last time at his phone, he set
his gaze on the new pair of lingerie Emily had bought. It was beautiful….
reminding him of all the beautiful moments that he once shared with her.
Sigh.
He was decided.
A few minutes later Emily walked in. Her
high heels stomping hard against the floor. She saw a post-it on the beautiful
sal side table read,
“Sorry, can’t make it this weekend. Need to
visit Washington for a proposal. I’ll make it up to you next weekend. Love
you.”
She pulled her phone out from her Gucci and
wrote a text.
“Hi, John is out again for this
weekend. Why don’t you come over
tonight? We’ll order in Italian, drink
some wine... and…”
She sent it to Jake. It had been almost a
year now. She had met him at the Yoga class. She remembered how she felt guilty
for finding him attractive the first time she saw him. Now she just laughed at
why she felt guilty at all!
She carefully placed her newly purchased
lingerie on the bed… and as she examined it, she said
“I knew I could count on her…”
Quickly, she took her phone and wrote down
one more text
“Love you too. Xoxo”
This one was addressed to her husband,
John.
-Aabha Morey (Writer of the Week)
Grant Medical College, Mumbai.
#2 The Conviction
He was thudding the coffin like box he was kept in for days, it seemed he regained consciousness. He was trying to somehow break free but was futile in his efforts, he tried making some noise but he realized he couldn’t. He was parched.
Hearing the noise some men came in, they wore long Kurtas and a turban and were armed with rifles. One of them, assumedly the leader, smirked and ordered them to open the coffin.
There he was all in dragged drapes and covered in wounds and scars, he was in utter shambles and was tortured mercilessly. He managed to open one eye; the sunlight stung him like a bee sting. He tried to get up, his legs failed him. The men helped him get up.
The leader smiled at him, it wasn’t a warm welcoming one, rather a cold, dark one.
He could barely look at him. They all took him to some room and gave him some water, for the people who did this to him they were quite noble.
They questioned him, he seemed perplexed. Queasy but determined. A smirk. And then there goes a shrieking into the air, almost frightening to anyone who had bore witness to it. There was blood. All around the floor he was seated. The voice echoed. Scattering all over the place, it was deafening. Easy enough for anyone to shiver in vain.
The coffin reopened. The men stood around it, while they lay him in it. It was almost as if he was being buried, and they were standing in a funeral. Some funeral.
They put him in, closed it tight. He was still breathing.
#2 The Conviction
He was thudding the coffin like box he was kept in for days, it seemed he regained consciousness. He was trying to somehow break free but was futile in his efforts, he tried making some noise but he realized he couldn’t. He was parched.
Hearing the noise some men came in, they wore long Kurtas and a turban and were armed with rifles. One of them, assumedly the leader, smirked and ordered them to open the coffin.
There he was all in dragged drapes and covered in wounds and scars, he was in utter shambles and was tortured mercilessly. He managed to open one eye; the sunlight stung him like a bee sting. He tried to get up, his legs failed him. The men helped him get up.
The leader smiled at him, it wasn’t a warm welcoming one, rather a cold, dark one.
He could barely look at him. They all took him to some room and gave him some water, for the people who did this to him they were quite noble.
They questioned him, he seemed perplexed. Queasy but determined. A smirk. And then there goes a shrieking into the air, almost frightening to anyone who had bore witness to it. There was blood. All around the floor he was seated. The voice echoed. Scattering all over the place, it was deafening. Easy enough for anyone to shiver in vain.
The coffin reopened. The men stood around it, while they lay him in it. It was almost as if he was being buried, and they were standing in a funeral. Some funeral.
They put him in, closed it tight. He was still breathing.
-Haripriya Iyer
Editor-in-chief, Scintilla Weekly.
SE, SIES Graduate School of Technology, Navi Mumbai.
#3
Ancient India, during the reign of Kings has always been considered a golden period in the history of India. Those were the times when India was the sole power in the world. She had given birth to great men who helped humanity by working in various fields. For example, Sushrutha gave the Sushruth Samhitha which helped the doctors cure many life threatening diseases. Chanakya proposed the tax system which helped the Kings to rule effectively and wisely. The Rishis gave scriptures having true knowledge about science, mythology and astronomy.
Had I been a fly, I would have witnessed the growth of India in its full swing. I would have witnessed the marvel of ancient armies being trained to fight wars, scientists researching in mystical phenomenon and royal kings ruling the land wisely without corruption and the technology, architects used to construct awe-inspiring temples that still stands and will stand for centuries to come. I would like to witness them and remember them in all my lives- "The Power of Ancient India!"
Had I been a fly, I would have witnessed the growth of India in its full swing. I would have witnessed the marvel of ancient armies being trained to fight wars, scientists researching in mystical phenomenon and royal kings ruling the land wisely without corruption and the technology, architects used to construct awe-inspiring temples that still stands and will stand for centuries to come. I would like to witness them and remember them in all my lives- "The Power of Ancient India!"
-Sriram Srinivasan
SE, SIES Graduate School of Technology