Count to Seven

Golden. That's how the sunlight was, as it eased in through the window, and fell on the floor, stumbling through the clutter of the room, crawling up the desk, groping for a hold on the bed. The sky outside was a clear blue, with flakes of snow-white clouds strewn across. Dew-drops lounged on the grass-blades, glistening as the rays hopped over them.

Gold, blue, and green; the colours dominated outside, striking up a harmony.

Tranquil. Serene. Peaceful...

"KABIR! If I find you still on that bed, I swear I'll--"

As Parveen Shah rounded the door, her words died in her throat, lodging themselves there. She swallowed.

803

The woman had a furtive look in her eyes, a look of sheer terror. Her actions were sudden, and her lips had come together as if to stifle a scream. She ran up to the lift and jabbed the call button savagely. The lift had been on the eighth floor, her own. She cursed out loud.

She had to get home, she had to get--

A car entered the parking lot with an ear-splitting screech. His car. She felt her heart thunder against her ribcage. He was here.

Black and Pink

She was a woman like no other. Completely out of her mind. She always chose the riskier path. Always. And she revelled in it! It was glorious for her. I haven't met another person like her, who took joy in failing because, "It was just an experiment, after all." A lunatic, I tell you.

But around me, she was totally opposite. Like flipping a coin. Fussy to the point of frustration(fussy is always frustrating, I know). She always looked at me with a suspicious eye, wondering whether I'd been up to any mischief. And as always, I'd disappoint her. But that didn't deter her, oh no! She would be unhappy with me because I wouldn't do anything wrong so that she could fly in as a messiah and set things right. I'd stopped messing things up a long time ago, and she hated me for it. I think she hasn't forgiven me for that even now.

Mir

Mir walked slowly, every step sending a strained message to his brain. To stop. To lie down. To give it a rest. It had been a long day, like every other. Mir should relax.

The saner, wiser part of him argued vehemently against those pleas. If he stopped, he wouldn't be able to get back up. And then a kind villager would have to carry him to his shack. He wouldn't be able to bear that sort of humiliation again.

The Fall

I stared down the blackness, my feelings a mixture of queasiness and exultation. The void seemed almost impenetrable, as if it were a veil, a barrier instead of empty space. The breeze blew past ever so slightly, brushing my cheeks like the tender hands of a lover... a lover.
The moon was at its full, shining benignly down at the scene, casting shadows wherever the trees behind me cut through its light. The faint smell of wet mud hung in the air, stirring up memories of childhood. Everything looked beautiful, breathtaking, as if in mockery of my plight. An excellent place to die.

The Lark

When I was a child, I was friends with a lark. It was no ordinary bird, for it could talk. And by talk, I mean human speech. This isn't one of those stories where in the end, the narrator turns out to be an animal or some inanimate object.

I was speaking about the lark, yes.

To find oneself.

    
      My palms were sweaty. The paper I was clutching tightly in my hands was now moist. I swallowed and took a deep breath.

      'You can do this. You just can. It's easy. It'll all be over in half a minute,' I thought to myself.

      'One and a half,' my brain auto-corrected me.

      'Yeah, well. Damn you too, brain.'

Crushed by a crush- a short story

 “Hey, are you even listening to me?” Kamal cried out in exasperation.

“Yeah, mm-hmm,” I replied, still not taking my eyes off her.

   “Dude, she sits right next to you in class. Eat your lunch and snap out of it.”

“Okay, yeah…alright,” I said, not altogether sure of what he was talking about.

  “Oh Holy Father!! Sameer is in LLOOOVVEE!! Sam is in love with--”