It Ain't Right Till I Write

Acceptance and Tolerance and the Sin of Being Powerless

A black and white image of a man in a shirt holding a box that he has placed over his face and head
Reading Time: 6 minutes

Hello lovely readers!

You all look so wonderful at a distance. Let’s just keep it that way!

Someone, very special to me, recently asked me a question that hasn’t settled in any corner of my mind. Now you may think, the brain is a semi-roundish contraption, and the mind is an abstraction, so where are the corners?

Oh God!

Could you overlook that? I’m simply speaking metaphorically.

Now where was I?

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No Mercy To Be Shown – Flash Fiction Story

A pair of man's hands in dark light
Reading Time: 2 minutes

He stood like a stubborn weed, fixed in his place, unmoved by the activity around him.

And much was going on.

Though the mood was sullen and withdrawn, the voices hardly slicing the stiff hush laid out on the chairs and tables, sewn to the curtains and carpet. There was a static in the air, and it crackled every time someone remembered the old man who had departed, the purpose of their dismal gathering.

Cheese and wine were on the menu. It was a good way of dealing with the discomfort.

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Flash Fiction Story – The Village Bride by Terveen Gill — Gobblers / Masticadores

Reading Time: < 1 minute

A big thanks to Gobblers/Masticadores for taking me aboard as a contributing writer. This is truly a diverse writing platform for writers from all across the world. Read ahead and click the blue link to enjoy the entire story. Cheers!

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Make a House a Home Again – Flash Fiction Story

A cream-yellow door in a grey slated exterior wall with a porch light next to it
Reading Time: 2 minutes

Hello. Good to see you. I’ve been waiting awhile.

No problem. Come in. Have a look around. I hope you’ll like what you see.

It’s been some time since anyone’s walked these hallways. Nothing to be sad about though. Just felt a little lonely.

Ah! You like the basement. A little damp. But nothing that some modern treatment won’t fix. Yes, it could make a nice playroom or even a home gym.

The lighting. I pride myself on that. Clean and natural. You won’t find large windows like these. Look out and be one with nature. Cover them with curtains and a warm, cozy atmosphere in here.

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Save It White Supremacist – Flash Fiction Story

A white man dressed in knight's armor holding a shield and swinging his sword
Reading Time: 2 minutes

Hey, I see you. Staring. Mean words forming on the tip of that tongue.

Chinky. Yellow face. Chinese fever.

I slink away. Do you notice my smile?

My name is Lulu. Too hard to remember?

It’s not me but that fat-fried brain of yours that can’t place a name or a face.

Oh! You see my sister. She’s Laxmi. You crack up every time she walks by.

Poop head. Brownie. Indian plague.

Be careful. She’s smarter than twenty of you put together.

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Please Let Me Pee! – Flash Fiction Story

A small wooden figurine standing in front of a flush in peeing posture
Reading Time: 2 minutes

‘Please let me pee!’

My words elicited no response. My full bladder was squealing like a pig about to be slaughtered.

Five minutes are a lot when you’re controlling the urge to urinate. I should’ve just emptied myself on the train. But the lateral motion was a turn off. It’s tough for me to go when there’s a perpetual sway.

So, I waited like a fool. And now feared to be standing in a yellow pool if the women at the door didn’t let me through. They just looked at me and shrugged their shoulders.

‘No English.’

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Rocky XOXO the Cobra – Short Story

A black and white image of a cobra sitting on a tiled floor
Reading Time: 5 minutes

Ah! Schitz! Dang Dammo!

The man’s thumb had been in overdrive since ten in the morning. A day off meant lazy mornings, pots of black coffee, and too much time to spare. It was never enough just doing nothing, so Mel submitted to his part-time addiction, browsing the internet and stalking people on social media.

Mel, a small man, barely five-two, was a silent observer of the virtual world. Only breaking the quiet in his five-by-eight-foot room to bark his disdain, swearing at the screen and its damaging blue light.

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A Die-Hard Opportunist – Flash Fiction Story

A young man wearing glasses and peeking out from between two tall piles of books
Reading Time: 2 minutes

My suede pants are suffocating my buttocks.

The chair’s leather padding ensures that the sweat in the seat of my trousers fuses my skin to the uncomfortable fabric. I try to wriggle my cheeks free, but squirming is unbecoming of me right now.

The main culprit, the reason for my discomfort, is seated across from me behind a gigantic mahogany wood table. His name is Cal Murthy, and he is the dean of the university I have always dreamed of attending.

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The Face On My Leg – Flash Fiction Story

A black and white image of a pair of woman's slender legs
Reading Time: 2 minutes

There’s a man’s face on my leg. I’ve tried figuring out if it’s someone I know, but I fail to place the handsome features, or assign a name to the beautiful stranger. But he can’t be unknown to me if he’s positioned two inches below my knee.

It began three weeks ago. A slight itch turned into violent scratching, and my fingernails showed no sympathy to the reddening skin upon my slender limb. Morning, noon, evening, the itch had a mind of its own, and the reddening patch grew with equal ferocity.

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The Vegetable Vendor – Flash Fiction Story

An old Indian man with whit hair sitting and looking tired
Reading Time: 2 minutes

He stood at the street corner, the rays from the light pole bathed the vegetables on his handcart in a sickly, yellow color. But there was no other place the vegetable vendor could stand. This was his designated spot. He had paid the local authority a pretty sum to hawk his vegetables every evening. The people from the community were well acquainted with the man and his green produce, and after five pm, his vegetable cart was the place to be.

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