Excuses- #FiveSentenceFiction

Ping,went the icon on her Facebook window as she  looked up from the papers resting in the curve of her lap, jostling for attention with the furry white body of her Persian tabby, Maurice.

She didn’t even need to open the message to know that it would be another tirade, most likely from her acquaintance made through that reading club she regretted having joined last March.

Sighing, she clicked on the icon to see the veritable flow of anger and resentment directed at her, because she hadn’t bothered to return a message and ‘like’ the latest Facebook update of this woman who had finished reading 35 books in under two months.

And don’t give me any more of your sorry excuses, woman, because I see you have enough time to write articles for the New York Times but not a shred of time to interact with me, ended the message, venom dripping from every word.

For a split second, she considered replying with everything that overwhelmed her world, every diversion and every excuse- her clinical depression, her inability to fall asleep every night as memories of her institutionalised mother rose up before her or the fact that she had lost a good friend to cancer last week or even that she had developed tennis elbow from typing too much- but instead, she swallowed it all as she always had and typed out one sentence, ‘Sorry, I’ve been really busy with work.’



  ©Shailaja V

Written for Five Sentence Fiction’s Prompt: Diversions


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Blame Game- #FiveSentenceFiction

Blame Game- #FiveSentenceFiction

“How exactly you manage to forget a minimum of three items every single time is frankly beyond me, Geoff!”

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Hailey thrust her hand into the paper bag and started pulling out the items and slamming them onto the kitchen counter, watching Geoff all the while with a look that implied complete doom.

Continue reading “Blame Game- #FiveSentenceFiction”

Lonely traveler- #Flashfiction

Lonely traveler- #Flashfiction

Must I anchor myself to this pier and tie myself down to the dead-weight that is the shore? he asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t really understand what you mean”, replied Sunaina, her lower lip quivering, tears clinging to her eyelids.

Never were one for metaphor, were you , eh, pretty face, he replied, sarcasm and bitterness dripping from his drug-fevered visage.

Fury superseded self-pity and Sunaina thrust her arms against his chest with all her might, flipping his frail frame into the murky water.

She watched his form flail in the water futilely, the oars widening the distance between them resolutely.


  ©Shailaja V

Word count: 100

Written for Friday Fictioneers photo prompt


For Five Sentence Fiction’s Prompt: Abandon


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