Greetings, Readers!
Before I begin, I believe I owe you all an apology. I apologize for the absence of any original post for a long long time. I can make up a lot of excuses and reasons for it, but I never lie to my readers. Actually, you see, I was on a vacation. One that I never had the choice not to take. To Lala Land. But we’ll talk more about that in my next post.
So let’s get on with a prompt post.
Prompt: Write 3 short stories, each of less than 300 words, with each of the following sets of words-
1. Apple, Picnic Basket, Black Cat, Wooden door, Girl with blue ribbons
2. Eggs, Electricity, Room, Paint, New transfer student
3. Jeep, Floating lantern, Creepers, Hay, Man with glasses
Write the three stories in a way that they are somehow linked.
THE TRILOGY
The Nightmare
She woke up to a loud ‘thud!’ Somewhere in the house, a wooden door banged shut. That’s strange. Her house didn’t have any. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she realised with a shock that this wasn’t her room. She ran to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. She looked around for a way out, when her eyes fell on the mirror. She saw a girl with blue ribbons in her hair. She was staring back at her. Nothing made sense. This was not her. The girl smirked at her. She looked around frantically. Apart from the bed and the mirror, there was only one thing in the room- a picnic basket. She dashed to the opposite side of the room and opened the picnic basket, hoping it would have a key, the key to her freedom from this strange nightmare which seemed to have no ending. In the dark, she grasped something furry and soft, and immediately felt a sharp sting on her wrist. She stood up with a jolt, and at the same time, out of the corner of her eye she saw a shape flit across the windowsill. As her face started to itch, she brought her hand up to scratch it and gave out a loud scream. Her hands were turning black and furry. Slowly, she made her way to the mirror. In it, she now saw a black cat, wearing her favourite pendant on its collar: a blood red apple. As she slowly drifted into unconsciousness, she heard the black cat on the windowsill say, “Finally, you’re here”. She wondered when she would see him next. This nightmare seemed eternal.
The Reunion
As he placed the eggs on the shoe rack and knelt down to open his shoes, he felt the tiredness of a long day persistently attempting to take over his senses, a tiredness which was both physical and mental. Being a new transfer student in a city school wasn’t easy, with all the so-called city boys always ready to pick on whoever they can. On top of that he had to work part-time after school to pay his tuition fees. He didn’t blame his parents for not helping him. Who would support their son’s efforts to look for a girl he loved who had left him without a trace after years of being together? He was truly on his own now. As he closed the door to his one room apartment in the suburbs, he looked at her picture on the wall. The paint was starting to peel off around it, but that didn’t dampen the delight that the picture gave him every time. It seemed to soothe his chaffed nerves. He turned on the lights and changed. Without a second thought, he crashed on his bed and within moments, he drifted into sleep.
The sweltering heat woke him up. The electricity was gone again. As his eyes gradually adjusted into the darkness, he sat up on his bed and almost skipped a beat. A perfectly black cat, with fluorescent yellow eyes, was looking back at him, sitting on his table. She must have gotten in through the balcony. Just as he was about to move, the cat jumped and sat down beside him on the bed. He noticed that she had a collar. And the collar had a pendant. Her pendant.
The Prophecy
A mercilessly cold desert wind made the traditionally garbed Pandit shiver at the thought of a warm fire. Cursing his lack of options, he wondered about the incongruity of the night. A red moon, hung up like an exhausted floating lantern about to crash from the heavens, made the sand all around look like dried up blood. A jeep came into view in the distance. “Finally!” thought Panditji as he took out a few parchments from his bag. The jeep stopped at a distance and the Imam stepped out, accompanied by a man with glasses who was carrying what looked like a tome. His hair flew into his own face in the wind like dead old creepers, with a few straws of hay sticking out at places.
“Greetings, Pandit. How have you been,” said the Imam they shook hands. “This isn’t a time for small talk, Imam. Let’s cut to the chase. What is the purpose of these nocturnal summons?”, said the Pandit.
“Never the one for pleasantries I see. As you wish, Pandit. You know that the plan is already underway and the subjects are under surveillance. What we require of you, are more recruits”, murmured the Imam.
“People are already suspicious of my intentions. I wouldn’t have come here if I knew this was the purpose”, said the Pandit as he turned to leave but froze when he heard the click.
“You cannot refuse the cause now, Pandit, not after all this time. The battle of Armageddon is almost upon us. We have already made the mistake of assuming everything to be history”, said the Imam.
The pandit collapsed on the ground, looking at the Bible amidst all of them.
“Why did we ever have to figure out that this was a prophecy?”
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Image Courtesy: Pinterest
Arnab Mukherjee 