The Wait
— Mohit Jain
“He had waited 9 years, for today. The stained walls had been his abode, a shield from the obnoxious smelly world outside. His only companion was too absorbed weaving its net by the small window that opened to the same ghastly world, unaware of the solitude it was about to incur. His eyes were smeared red from the wrath he had accumulated inside, a volcano desperate to erupt. His sweaty palms were crushing the iron bars inside them. In 25 minutes, he would be a free man. The mere thought of Tulsi covered in blood, rejuvenated him. He felt a current pass through his veins, a current of celebration.
The revolver in his pocket was getting restless. He looked at her, one last time, he smiled to himself; all calm, hands folded, eyes closed, soughing a tone he woke up to every morning, when a kid. He thought to himself, her Krishna would not come to her rescue today, or for that matter, no one would.
The revolver hung still affixed at her forehead, no motion, no sound. The bullet waited impatiently, eager to know its destiny. He thought he saw fear in her eyes. But, he saw none. He hated her guts, then, 9 years ago, and now. But he was aware of the difference. The revolver had switched hands between then and now. And that comforted him. In 25 seconds, he would be a free man. He thought he heard footsteps, closing in, by every second. His eyes rolled back, agitated, scared, smeared red with fear, the revolver not still anymore. He knew well, it was now or never. The eyes flipped back, glaring at his prey. He thought he heard a shot. He was…”
Her 6 year old daughter, pounced onto the remote, and switched to Channel 6. “It is POGO time, Mamma”, she said coyly, smiling. She smiled back at her, surfing through the newspaper, looking for the schedule of repeat telecast of “Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi”.
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The Accident
— Mohit Jain
“Gawwwwd!”, she screamed her lungs out, as she plummeted down, deep down, wholly at the mercy of gravity. Her body was flying away from her, straight down. She could not stand the pain she felt on her back, the pain she felt in her mind. Her eyes were shut, too afraid to see the world from a perpetually falling gaze. She wasn’t sure if they would open ever again. She felt her heartbeat on her right palm, matching the pace of Michael Jackson’s steps. Something hit her on the side, her left hand twisted across her chest, writhing with pain. She let out another shriek, so loud, it echoed back to her. She would not survive today, she told herself.
She thought of Rahul, it was just few seconds ago she had seen him last, just before she was pushed through the blind ruthless valley. It was Sunday, and like every other Sunday, it was the day, Rahul and she would go on a long drive, chatter endlessly about the week’s errands, and go to some place fun. She wondered if this was her last long drive, if her last words had just popped out seconds ago, and if this was her last place of fun. Her legs did not carry her weight anymore. She hated Rahul. She hated gravity. And, she hated Newton, in first place. She prayed for her life, to no avail. She felt a sudden jerk pressing her down. In nanoseconds, she hit the bottom with brute force, skidding through the flat hard surface, and crashed straight into the blue, legs waving into the air.
“I am alive”, she cackled to herself, quivering with fear. She had survived the ordeal. She was happier, braver.
She felt a warm familiar pat on her wet back. It was Rahul. She pocketed her fingers into the comfort of his palm, and walked towards the Water Pendulum. “They call it the most scary water ride at WonderLa water park”, he said. She nodded, smiling. But she wasn’t scared anymore.
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(I would publish 10 stories, 2 a piece. Your stories are invited, jus’ keep them short, within 400 words, and a mandate is a twist in the tail of the tale, however predictable and clichéd it might be.)
