Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 19

A witch, she had seen her in the wee hours. She packed her bags and went to her mother’s, “buy a new house or we are done!” Left without a choice, he sold the wretched one and bought a new witchless one. She seemed pleased, “Shall come by the morning flight!” She chirped. He was about to turn in when the doorbell rang! “Surprise! Took the evening flight!” He hugged her tight. They kissed. They made love. They slept in each others arms. At dawn the doorbell rang, there she was again “Welcome me home darling”….’.

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 18

It was him again. Six days in a row. Classical stalking. Just two months post my heart transplant and the stress was not good for me. I was beginning to dread going home from work. Should go to the cops but I had nothing on him. There was only one way, confront! On a rain washed lonely street I turned on him suddenly. It caught him by surprise. “You won’t scare me. I am made of sterner stuff.” I hissed. “Not trying to scare. Only want to talk.” He raised his hands up in surrender. I only glared back. “I loved her very much, you have her heart, would you tell me if it has a message for me… ever?”…..

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 17

It was a gale, the grass swayed to the music of the wind. The soldiers held their spears and shields with much ado. The king stepped out of the tent, his two sons and their horses ready for the test. “Capability has nothing to do with age.” The king’s voice was gruff. “The one who wins this race shall be king. To the barracks then but listen carefully. The one whose horse comes last shall win.” Everyone stood stunned. The two sons confused. What kind of a race was that? Then the younger brother ran to the elder’s horse. Quickly astride and galloped away. The king smiled…

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 16

It was pointless denying the affair. She had read the text messages, the emails, traced the phone number and he knew it was a long time coming. Yet, that morbid conversation had to be had. The screaming and shouting had been done. They sat at opposite ends of the room emotionally exhausted, silent. The sound of a distant night cricket, the drops of water leaking from the air conditioner and a breaking marriage made for a strange rhythm. Finally he said, “Lets face it, this marriage died a long while back”. She looked him in the eye, “Honestly, when you did what you did, was there no guilt at all?” He shook his head, “No, none at all.” She smiled a sad smile; “Then It’s not the marriage it’s the human being in you that died a long while back.” The night cricket suddenly went quiet…

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 15

Perched on his throne, the biggest ever diamond lying next to him almost carelessly. Such a long journey he thought looking at the beautifully carved chandelier. From a king without a kingdom he was now the emperor of the largest piece of land. Yet, something troubled him. His dream of a dynasty was here and yet he did not have a name for it. He was still a lowly nomad sitting on the throne. His courtiers had several suggestions for him but none grand enough. Then his eyes fell on the hate letter from the King of Persia wishing him ill and calling him a lowly Mongol. And there it was! In the insult was the gift of the name! He smiled. He had found the grand name! The Persian name for Mongol, that is what he would call his dynasty, The Moghul.

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 14 Part of a whole or In scattered parts?

All those intergalactic missions had paid off; there was life on another planet! It was an honor for him to lead the delegation sent to meet with the alien race. An intergalactic diplomatic mission! From the winders the planet looked just like home, blue and lush green. The pilot made a smooth landing on the designated patch. Seat unbuckled. Gates open. He came forth in the light of a yellow Sun and saw the alien delegation in front of him. They seemed much taller than him, a strange kind of skin. The Alien leader came forth and said something to the interpreter robot that in turn said to me, “He says his name is Barack Obama and he is the leader of a very important country.” What a strange name, Obama. But stranger still what the hell was a country…

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 13 Premiere Night

Premiere Night! His Rolls Royce Phantom rolled to stop at the red carpet. He alighted in all his charm. The crowd went hysterical. He waved. They screamed. Shutterbugs went berserk. His wife held his hand, proud of him. Then he looked at the frenzied crowd across the street held back by the police and his smile gave way to an entranced stillness. She noticed it, “Hey! People are waiting. Lets go Superstar!” He was transfixed. “What’s the matter?” She asked. “Do you remember us, across the street, like this crowd now? Dreaming of being Stars one day?” He whispered. “Yes… but that was fifteen years back!” She said. He looked at her lovingly, “It took us fifteen years to cross a damn street, huh?” She hugged him tight, very tight.

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 12

She looked like an angel in the pale moonlight as it tiptoed through the windows. Her white negligee offset her dark cascading hair. She smiled as she lit his favorite vanilla candle and then floated into his arms. Her skin so soft and eyes like pools of hazel desire. She was his, all his he thought and gently kissed her lips. And then he found tears running down his face. Why was he crying? It turned into a sob as his eyes opened to the harsh morning. She was gone, just a picture on the dresser, dead seven months and two days ago. Tears have a will of their own and they would not stop till his eyes saw a strange glow on the far side of the room. The vanilla candle was still burning….

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 11 “Not Admitted”

The Professor could see the Austrian Alps from his window at the Academy of Arts in Vienna but the landscape that generally filled him with tranquility on this day could not help him shake the dread. It was the second time that this student had sketched for a seat at the Academy. Yet, the simple sketches made the Professor fearful. He had no clue why! Normally he wouldn’t take so long to decide on an entrant. But this one… He chastised himself. It was not like the fate of the world depended on him. He scribbled, “Not Admitted”. Tossing the sketch aside he saw the name one last time, Adolf Hitler.

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 10

The setting sun cast a near golden hue. The birds just black forms flying across. He took a deep drag on the joint and passed it on to his partner in crime.“winter will end soon.” She heard him say as she took the intoxicant from him. Silence. “will we be friends for life?” there was a certain innocence in his question. “Yes” I mumbled. “it’s all this time we spent together.” He seemed to know the basis of our friendship. I saw the last bird fly across the red sky as I said, “time shared will never make a bond… It’s our tragedies that we shared”

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 9

It was called “The Moon’s a balloon”, David Niven’s autobiography. It lay forever in his father’s study. It had filled his little mind with an image of the moon as a balloon, how wonderful he would think. And now as the first galactic explorer he saw the earth as a balloon, a beautiful blue balloon from the porthole of the spaceship that raced towards Mars. He was indeed lucky to be chosen for this mission, one man out of five hundred officers, the astronaut of the century. It was a one-man mission and he was the man! It was then that he heard it, a deep raspy breathing sound. But how could that be? And then again! Someone was on board. Yet what scared him was that there was only one oxygen suit and he was wearing it….

-Arsee.

Fiction · Little stories

Arsee’s little stories 8

There was a sudden hush in the party and then as she saw him she knew why. Someone had messed the guest list. After their bitter parting two years ago they had not been together in the same room. She, he and everyone else had made sure. And yet, here he was.
It was best to ignore and leave she thought. As she passed him on her way out she took a deep breath and in that breath she was invaded with his perfume and with his scent came the memories of those perfumed nights, the love, the laughter, the banter, the touch of his skin, the pout, the quarrels, the pain, the pleasure and she sighed. She remembered a phrase and hid away her tears…. intimate strangers…. that’s what they were….

-Arsee.