randomized

From Google The sun climbs up quite early here For it has no mountains to mount, no buildings to shine through not even trees to filter from The wind comes charging with might making a scandal with land breaking it apart into tiny pieces,  carrying it along, changing its face The rain comes too, sometimes, seldom, does it quench the thirst a thirst of thousands of years, a thirst that remains, much before it has gone Nothing lives long here; nothing, of colour can walk and retain that beauty for long unless you are a cacti and have thorns it's as simple as you dry, you die and get born You will find spirits here though, spirits of old age; the ones who survive, along with the crawlers of the sand, the ones who know the place and call it their own land

Once upon a time, there lived a girl in a small fishermen village in a beautiful land. The village, like the whole kingdom was picturesque in whatever corner one were to happen to be in. There were many small villages and odd towns where people engaged in various trades and works. There were forests and large swathes of fields which separated them. The farmers usually lived near the forests and the rivers and the shepherds and cattle farmers on the fields. As for this particular village, it was one of the numerous which lay near the big river that was the lifeline of this wonderful land.

I stand in this chilly night outside one of the busiest, hippest club in West End. The fog shifts in shifts. A wave after a wave, mixed with aromas of spices and smell of charred meat from the numerous kitchens nearby. Often, it gets mixed with a familiar smoke of tobacco from someone's cigarette. Someone who is out to light in the fresh air, like me. A red haired girl, with clothes far from suitable for this kind of a weather, steps out from the heavy double doors of the bar. She takes a deep breath and looks around for something. 'Oh, this can't be possible', I mumble, as soon as I see her. Surely co-incidences don't happen to such a degree. But she spots me and before I can turn around or attempt to walk away, she is already at my side. "Hey, you got a fag?" "Umm, yeah sure!" I take out one from my pack and hand it to her. Then I light it up. "Thanks," she says smiling.

Welcome to the third day of blog 'weak'. I hope you liked the last two posts, they made my blog quite happy. If you haven't read them yet, they can be found here and here .  I had been thinking of writing some fiction lately since 1. It's been a long time and 2. I really miss writing fiction. So today, while having a chat with dear friend and fellow blogger Ashna , I asked if she had any suggestions for the blog 'weak' and fiction and she had to say this, Write a 'flash fiction' story in 300 words. It should have this phrase: 'The noise made me jump out of my skin...'    It can either have a horror theme or something based on dreams.  which I thought was a very interesting idea indeed. So here I am, choosing the horror theme. Hope you enjoy.

The story below is a chapter-in-continuation to Ashna's story/chapter which she posted last month. We've come up with this super-cool idea of writing alternate chapters of this story without discussing what we are going to write beforehand anywhere and it's turning out to be real fun.  You can check the previous chapter written by her, on her awesome looking newly revamped blog here :)  *** 'No shit!', I said, mocking surprise at the guy in pink shirt. The guy shifted in his place trying to hide a smirk. The young man had just informed me that I had dropped my phone on the platform. He had informed me after I had screamed and kicked and tried to force open the door of the coach which closed just after it got knocked off my hand by a bull of a de-boarding passenger, onto the platform. After the train started moving and when I resigned to just looking at it lying there, waiting to be picked up by a lucky soul, pinky said, 'You could have pushed...

KOMF is a prompt hosted by Kathy and Jessica to meet new people and help build a blogosphere. The bloghop is hosted on 15th of every month. This post is in response to one of their prompts, which is: "Write a 200 word or less flash fiction beginning with this phrase:  Her eyes shot open.. You are free to change the gender and POV if you'd like."

A first (and thankfully so), this post is in response to a creative prompt  by blogger and writer Preeti Shenoy , who's third book ' Tea for Two and a Piece of Cake ' released a few days ago. And let me tell you, the book sure looks delicious. In this last prompt of her, the author asks some random questions to get to know us, the readers, a little better. So here it is,