Archive for the ‘ Bed-Time Tales ’ Category

Just A Confession.

It was unbelievable, they knew each other for decades, since Kindergarten; Yet, Anne couldn’t hold back. She pounded the desk with her feeble fists, hoping to die. Why hadn’t she felt it at the beginning? Guilt. Three months ago she joined an online dating website, not that she was unsatisfied. It was all for fun. Of course she thought, it’s just a dating site, what can possibly go wrong? But now, crystals trickled down her hazel eyes as she took off her Silver ring and examined it. It glinted in her eyes as memories of Alan rolled past her, playing every second of their marriage like a film reel. The marriage was theirs, and would still be theirs, but she blew it up.

Wailing, Anne clutched her silken hair. She’d been in an affair with Jeremy, who, shifted into their locality a few months ago and found Anne on the dating site, not knowing her marital status. Anne gulped, as she extended her quaking fingers towards the laptop, typing down an apology letter to Jeremy, making an excuse, for not being able to meet him anymore. Any excuse would do, Anne thought, all she wanted was to get rid of him. She completely knew that this email would ruin his life, but it was all for the good. It was the only way to repent. She wished, no, rather she hoped and prayed things would be the same with her and Alan, and that’s when it struck her; Alan didn’t know anything.

Not being rude, she wanted to tell the truth to a confidant, and who could it be better than Alan? They were in the same school since Kindergarten, they went to the same high school, and coincidentally, the same university. A whole year younger than Alan, Anne believed she was born for Alan, and Alan alone. But she had never done this to him.

It was then, that the doorbell rung. Anne couldn’t stand, too petrified that she clung on to her chair. Alan entered in, hanging his maroon raincoat on the stand, revealing his jacket of a peculiar-est shade of wood brown. Lifting his fedora hat, he shot a glance at Anne, rolling an umbrella by his finger.

“Hey, sugar.”

Knowing him inside out, Anne still couldn’t tell what her husband would say, let alone feel, after knowing his own wife cheated on him. She had to try it, tell the truth. It wouldn’t hurt, just a fight here and a fight there, nothing harsh, right?

No. Anne was a pessimist.

“Honey.. I needa’ talk about something..”

Anne’s voice trailed off. She started shaking, and almost collapsed when Alan reached for her, catching her in his arms, just like the day they got married. Anne was Hypoglycemic, never the one who could handle stress and anxiety, anxious of leaving her family, anxious now, confronting Alan.

“Anne? How many times have I told you not to take st-”

“Let me speak” Anne replied, barely in her senses, putter her finger on Alan’s lips.

“I need to tell you something.. I- I didn’t mean it.” She stammered. “I DID NOT F*CKING MEAN IT!” Grabbing Alan’s collar, screaming so loud causing the half filled glass beside their dressing table to fall down, breaking into a million reflections of the twain, majestically entwined in a vortex of love.

Swallowing back her tears, she continued, “I just did it to pass my time, 3 months ago, I hid it all along..”

“Anne.. What are you talking about?” Still confused, Alan couldn’t figure out anything, and had an innocent twinkle in his eyes.

“I cheated.. Jeremy.. And today.. I- I broke up with him and I don’t know how to tell this to you so.. So-” And Anne burst into tears. Tears that poured down her eyes like rainfall. Tears composing all the resentment, the silent moments, the conflicts, the jealousy and all that can make one berserk, if not sent to a mental asylum.

“You were afraid to tell me everything, and kept it a secret because you cared for our relationship, and now you regret ever cheating on me and having an affair with Jeremy through that online dating site?” Alan smirked, standing right there, clutching his wife, who apparently stared in disbelief back at him.

“Y-you k-knew this all along?” Anne couldn’t come to convince herself.

“Darling, please erase search history next time, it helps.” Retorting, Alan pulled Anne closer for an embrace.

Anne, too embarrassed, shoved her head in his jacket, chanting “You’re such a rapscallion. Christ, I’m sorry.. I’m sorry..”

Tightening his embrace, Alan whispered in her ear, “No sweat, I loved you anyways.”

Feeling each others breath, taking a silent, rather telepathic oath, to be forever like this.

Image Source(s)

Hand-Holding(http://www.thinkbudget.com/pictures/couple.jpg)

2010
10/23
CATEGORY
Bed-Time Tales
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The Old Man Who Sails On Blood

The sun was sinking down the violet sky, slowly beckoning me towards it. That’s when I gave myself a hard slap on my face. “Geez, you think too much, nasty ol’ scholar coot!” Truth is, I was lost. The wooden boat’s edges creaked as the puny piece of plank did his all to get across the ocean. How did I come here? How do I get out of here? I had no answer. Waking up yesterday inside this boat shrouded with thick fog was when I was gained my conscious after a nightmare. Thinking of the past made me flinch as I searched the sole cabin for anything to eat. My stomach growled in the midst of nowhere, and I managed to grasp a loaf of bread, half with fungus breeding on it.

Igniting a candle, I sat by the edge, nibbling down the loaf as the boat made it’s way through the fog in the night. Suddenly, I started hearing a rowing noise. My blood froze. Why would another boat be rowing along in this vast sea that wasn’t even mapped nor heard of? Squinting my eyes, I made out a flat wooden platform with a candle on each of it’s four edges. As it approached me, there was an old man perched on a worn out throne, surrounded by the candles. Weird, I thought to myself as the cold breezes chilled my bones. Here I was fighting for survival on a battered old wooden boat and I see an old man chuckling at me, who obviously looked much undernourished than me.

“Come here, boy. Let me tell you a story” smiling, the white haired human beckoned me.

“Story? Right.. Now? I mean, in this mist and the time of the hour?” Surely, this man had gone mad! Out of nowhere, somehow, he pulled out another throne-like-chair from behind his own seat. He said no more, but his stare convinced me to sit beside him for awhile.

“Atta boy.. Now what kind of story do you want to listen to?” This wasn’t simply a question. That one sentence was enough to haunt me, to make me curious. As ordered, I sat on the seat, feeling comfortable as I sank into it’s leather skin that smelled of cow hides. There was one disturbing thing though.. The seat had blood stained on it.

“If you do not answer, let me begin!” Smiling, he took a sip from the mug with what seemed like tea, as he began his preparations for ‘Story Telling’. “There was once a couple, they loved eachother so deeply, they decided to go out to the sea for a week to enjoy some private time. During that journey, they stumbled across a man, and then the man was stained in blood as he licked their blood!” The old man started laughing heavily. Madman!! What was going on in his head? Trying not to be rude, I stayed on my seat, clutching the hard supports and digging deeper in the leather. Sweating deeply, I told him to continue

“Okay. Another story. There was a big ship everyone used to respect, one night in a storm, the ship was cut in half and everyone on board murdered, by one man!” The man laughed again, maniacally. My heart froze. This was exactly like yesterday on the ship I was in. My hands started shaking as his stare pierced through me, reading everything going on in my mind.

I had to run.

“This is the last one, and I’ll make sure that it really is the last story you shall hear! I would not want to make it sound as scary though. There is a rumor.. About an old man. This old man who sails on blood. Etching fear in everyone and carving paranoia among who ever he passes by. It is said he likes to sail on a wooden platform, sitting on a chair. He comes across many people, and none live through him to see another morning. Sitting on his throne, he tells stories to people, who loose their composure, and the cold blooded man.. Kills them” With pure innocence in his eyes, the old man held out a knife, rusting in blood and cackled as he approached me.

2010
07/30
CATEGORY
Bed-Time Tales
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The Tsunami

Okay, I wrote this while giving my admission exam for Karachi Grammar School’s English paper on 13th of March 2010. There were other questions too, but this one was just awesome :P

Q. Write a 150 word passage on “A massive wall of water pushed forward… The Tsunami!”

A massive wall of water pushed forward, hacking down the masses. It dragged the population back like a miniature Black Hole on Earth. A storm was brewing in the Satin Black velvety skies. Nature surely didn’t intend to leave any survivors. People ran, trying to flee as the waves devoured their kinsmen, tearing their houses apart. ‘Funny how they run away, like they believe they’re going to live’, thought Alan Presscot. It was all like a movie scene, except the casualties were real. The dead will not pop out behind the scenes, grinning, nor a director to yell ‘Cut’ when it was all over. Alan was content. No worries, no regrets, nothing left undone. He smirked. Taking a step forward, ready to be buried alive by this wall of water, ready to face the Tsunami.

2010
04/08
CATEGORY
Bed-Time Tales
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