fiction Archives - Obsessivemom

25/02/202425/02/2024

Exploring the colour palette of love, one relationship at a time

Before this month of love goes by, I’m sharing five vignettes on love. Hope you find some version yourself in at least one of them.

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13/09/202313/09/2023

Tar

Trigger warning: Depression

It clings to her like tar.

She heads for the refrigerator and picks out a cube of ice rubbing it feverishly over her face, trying to erase its traces.

23/07/201415/04/2017

The happy butterfly

“Look mama what a strange butterfly,” said the little girl staring in awe. This is no place for a butterfly, thought her mother, mopping her brow.

Their’s was a dreary home, stuck between scores of others, between open drains and garbage, soot and filth, not a flower in sight. Yet the butterfly hovered.

The little girl reached out and it landed gently, right on her palm. There she sat opening and closing her delicate wings glowing with an ethereal light.

The mother watched her girl’s face lit up with a smile and found it reflected on her own, wiping out the tired sad lines even if for a moment.

As they smiled the tiny creature seemed to get stronger, to glow even brighter and two new colours shimmered on its wings.

Off she flew, off towards the school, to the sobbing boy clutching his mum’s hand. “I don’t want to go,” said he with a wail. She floated close by calling out to him. He listened, he stared, tears forgotten, a smile appeared. And then he let go, following her with his teacher, uncomplaining.

And another colour appeared on her wings.

On she flew to the busy marketplace. “What’s that!” wondered the old vegetable vendor distracted for a moment from the thought of that blanket he needed to buy. She fluttered around waiting. The smile appeared soon and so did the colour.

And off she flew. This time to the busy executive cradling a phone in the crick of his neck. Oh this was tough but she didn’t give up. She lingered between his files alighting for a moment right on his laptop, catching his attention, finally. She drifted gently by the drooping bouquet, made with love by his daughter but carelessly discarded. The thought of his daughter brought him a smile, a trifle regretful, but a smile nonetheless.

The butterfly got her colour and off she flew.

The crusty landlady, the lonely student, the unhappy socialite, the overworked maid – she flew by each one. Some were easy, some so tough. But a smile she drew from each one of them. Innocent, happy, joyful smiles, smiles without malice, smiles of love. She gathered them all upon her wings. And with each one of those she grew more beautiful, ever more strong and ever more determined.

Yeah she’d do it, she’d change the world. She’d make it happier a smile at a time.

27/04/201415/04/2017

The chain

The kids, small and determined, surrounded their friend.
The men, large and threatening, sneered as they watched.
“Move,” ordered the leader.
“Never,” chorused the kids.
“We have come to take him you cannot stop us.”
“He’s a pal of our childhood, he stays right here.”

“We’ll take him by force,” – the threats got louder.
The chain of kids simply closed in tighter.
The men moved forward.
The children steeled themselves.
Large hands pulled. Small ones resisted.

And then they hit out at the weakest link.
Oh they were smart they could spot the chinks.
One large shove and the deed was done,
Dangling on the chain was the Tiniest One.

Their friend lay exposed and the little ones watched
as they hacked him to pieces with axes and saws.

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Edited to add: This post was inspired from an instance in Faridpur, India when authorities decided to cut down trees to widen roads. Over a hundred students, teachers, social workers and nature lovers got together to form a human chain to protest the move.

Linking to Write Tribes Wednesday Prompt Dangling on the chain..

Tomorrow we get back to the last three authors for the April A to Z Challenge!! What a journey it has been. Whew!

Also linking to Ultimate Blog Challenge

02/03/201415/04/2017

Fitting in

Desperate sobs wracked her tiny frame as she stood there alone, clutching her doll.
A bunch of girls played close by ignoring her with deliberate ease. Not one made a move to approach her .. to soothe, to befriend, to console.
Why would they? Wasn’t it they who had refused to include her?
“Just look at that monster,” they’d said, laughing at her.
Her crime?
Her doll didn’t ‘fit in’.

Who said children couldn’t be cruel?

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And with that nine-liner we kick off the week-long Festival of Words at Write Tribe. Today we were required to write a piece of fiction consisting of exactly nine sentences.

For more super nine-liners click here.