Short Story 4

The Fictional Man

He didn’t exist, but then again she didn’t care. That guy right there was the one constant in her life, and he, along with his friends, are always there when nobody else is.

For the longest period of time, she had been emotionally attached to the characters in books. I don’t find anything particularly wrong about that, in fact, I too, am deeply emotionally invested in fictional characters on a regular basis. Continue reading “Short Story 4”

Short Story 2

The Girl and Her Father

She woke up in a sweat. Every night since that infamous day in July when she was eight, she would have these dreams. It was a recurring dream that kept happening without fail, like clockwork, never letting her escape.

She remembered the events like it was yesterday. Her father had yelled at her earlier in the day. Not in a malicious kind of way, in the parental way. She had painted a picture of a dog and a rainbow on the dinner plates, and he had scalded her as any parent would. Continue reading “Short Story 2”

Short Story 1

The No Name and the Soldier

I few months ago, I decided I needed an outlet for everything that happens in my life. Not that all that much happens, but there is an undeniable truth in my life that I don’t open up very often to anyone. So I decided to write a book. A book that contains partial truths, that draws from everything in the little social sphere around me. But don’t misunderstand me, I wasn’t in any way writing a set of memoirs, in fact quite the opposite. I was writing a work of fiction. And right now, the skills I’ve picked up, like internal narration actually seem to be helping me come to terms with what I have just done. Removing myself, and becoming a third person to my own screwed up life is helping me compartmentalise. Continue reading “Short Story 1”

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