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Trouble in Patisserie Janet hated this part of the day. This was the time when Richard came to the patisserie. Every time she saw Richard, her heart started to flutter and her co-ordination faltered. Her palms would start to sweat and she would forget whatever she was doing at that time. She was head over heels in love with him, even though she knew nothing about him except his name and his favorite flavor of cupcake – Banana Chocolate.

This had never happened to Janet in all her years. She had never felt so irrational before and she was a very practical person. Falling in love was a process for her, which involved meeting someone, knowing their characteristics and assessing if it went well with her nature. Only then had she allowed herself to fall in love all of the two times that it had happened before. Of course, those two times having not worked out was in no way a reason for her to not continue her process of scrutiny.

But Richard had swept all those thoughts away from her mind. She was besotted. So much so that, she did something she had never done before – consulted her psychic sister if things would work out between them. However, her sister’s prediction was not positive. Her sister had predicted that Richard would bring trouble to her. Janet had never believed in psychic powers anyway. It was just her desperation that made her consult her sister. The negative news did nothing to stow away her feelings for Richard. She just had to try once.

Since she did not know anything about him except for his favorite cupcake, there was only one thing she could do to subtly get his attention – put a message in his cupcake. She decided to keep the message simple but interesting so as to not sound very desperate – Would you like to catch up for coffee someday? She did not want to put in her name as it was quite obvious who could have put the message. She wrapped that particular muffin in red wrap paper to distinguish it from others. But she did not want anyone else to know of this so she kept that muffin in the display window along with other cupcakes. Now all she had to do was to wait till he arrived. That was when her sister’s prediction came true and everything went wrong.

Apart from her, Janet had a couple of employees working for her in the patisserie. That day, there was an exceptionally large rush of people and all three of them were busy serving customers all through the morning. In the commotion, Janet did not notice the dwindling supply of cupcakes. So when Richard arrived and Janet went to pick up his special cupcake, she noticed in horror that the cupcake was missing. She looked around the store in panic and saw the red wrapped cupcake being sold to a formidable looking woman by one of her employees. She hurried forward as the woman turned from the counter and started walking towards the exit. In her rush to get to the woman, she did not slowdown in time and went dashing into the woman. The woman gave a cry of horror and the cupcake flung from her hand and landed in the coffee of an old man sitting near the exit, splashing hot coffee all over him. Shocked by the noise and the torrent on coffee towards him, he gave a start and threw the cup down.

The cup fell down and broke into tiny pieces right next to a bulldog who was sitting next to his 10 year old master. The dog jerked awake and being scared, darted towards the exit pulling the kid along with it. The kid, in his haste to gain control of the dog, tumbled onto the old man. The old man, already burnt with coffee, was not very steady and ended up crashing on to the floor. His cry of pain made it very obvious that he had broken quite a few bones in his rattled old body. In the midst of the chaos that followed, Janet managed to reach the counter and call 911. Paramedics soon arrived and rushed the old man to the hospital, where it was declared that the chaos had caused him a minor heart attack and he had broken bones in his leg and shoulder. In all of this mess, Richard had rushed off without offering help to anyone.

It took her many hours to convince the old man’s family not to sue her patisserie. She had agreed to cover all of his medical expenses in the offering. Finally when she could come back home, she found her sister waiting for her by the door steps. Rushing into her arms and sobbing pitifully, Janet realized this was the trouble her sister had warned her about. If only she had listened to her and kept a strong rein on her heart!

Rest in Peace

Story Prompt – You are an elderly man. Your wife has been nagging about your stench for years – on top of your declining health, of course. You finally visit your doctor after several years. After some tests, the doctor enters your room and says, “I don’t know how to say this, but… I… I don’t think you’re supposed to be alive.” – Credit for the prompt to Crystal Santoro

The stench was getting too strong and the wife’s constant nagging was getting on my nerves. “If you are that much bothered, put a plug in your nose. The smell might stop for you, your breathing might stop for me and that might be a relief for both of us” I huff at her. She ignores my jibe and makes an appointment with her regular doctor.

I hate going to the doctor, especially to him. Somehow he always manages to ridicule me and make me feel down on myself – more so when my wife accompanies me. So this time, even though she came with me to the hospital, I don’t let her come with me to see the doctor. I go to the doctor’s room alone.

As usual, the doctor is condescending. “My, aren’t we letting go of ourselves a bit too much?” or “I wonder if you have seen any action in the bedroom for a long time?” So you see why I hate coming to him? But I go through the process nonetheless. I am an old man. There’s not much left in me. He conducts his tests, all the while finding something to make comparisons about me. Finally the process is done and he goes out to get the results.

It’s a long, but peaceful wait till he comes back. With the doctor’s taunts and the wife’s constant nags, these days this kind of peace is very rare for me. So I enjoy it while it lasts. As expected, the happy phase doesn’t last long and the doctor is back, but this time with a sneer “it is surprising how you have managed for so long, but it appears you are not supposed to live for this long. Your time is soon coming to an end.”

In the time that it takes for me to understand what he is trying to say, in walks my wife. I look at her, expecting her to come and hold my hand. But she rushes towards the doctor and kisses him passionately. The earlier statement still lingering in my mind, this new scene gets my blood boiling. She turns to me and mirror the doctor’s sneer “it’s been a while since I have been poisoning you. Now finally it has started showing results and I can be with Richard.”

I wake up with a start. My breathing is still heavy and I feel sweat building on my brows. But looking around my familiar bedroom space calms me and then, I laugh. The stench of decaying flesh still persists, however that no longer bothers me. In fact, with the dream and all, that stench is giving more relief than anything. Getting off my bed, I move to the next room. I unlock it and look at the two figures lying on the bed.

I talk directly to my wife, “There’s no point trying to scare me by coming in my dreams and saying crazy things. If you had wanted to live, you should have thought of it before canoodling with the doctor under my roof. You should, in fact, thank me that I killed you both instead of exposing you for who you are to the world. Now you can REST IN PEACE together for whatever eternity is there for you both.”

The Ultimate Fight

https://readanddreamaway.wordpress.com/2019/04/03/the-ultimate-fight/

Alice was fed up of listening to these things about her. She wanted to go to work. She knew she could do well if only she managed to reach the office. Once upon a time she was a star performer at her work. She was promoted at every promotion cycle. But now, she can no longer go. It is all his fault. And maybe her fault too, Alice thought. Both of them had ruined Alice’s life. Their words – their hateful words. “You look so fat in that dress”, “Look at you! You look horrible. No wonder you do not have a boyfriend! Who would want you? You are such a loser.”, “What is the point of living a life like yours? Why are you putting in so much trouble just to live this mediocre, insignificant life?” Alice was tired of listening to this day in and day out. Her work had suffered. Her friendship and relationship had suffered. Now a days, she survived on water, only if she managed to drag herself to the sink to get a glass. Some days, even that felt like a task and she just lie there on her bed for the entire day. She thought she had a pet. One day she went looking around the apartment if she had one. But maybe she was hallucinating. Or maybe knowing that it won’t get anything to eat or drink, the pet (was it a dog? Or a cat?) must have left her for a better life elsewhere. “Even pets who love everyone, cannot stand you. Don’t you think that is an indication?” Alice had tried to reach out to her friends once. She genuinely did try to talk. But everyone else had a life to lead and they could not give enough time for her calls. They could not talk to her long enough for her to ask for help or for them to understand that she needed help. “No one cares about you. Don’t you understand that? You are not wanted by anyone anymore. Your life is useless. You are useless. You are a waste of space, a burden to this world.” “I wish I had more courage” Those were the words written on a piece of paper next to her, when someone found her dead on the floor by an overdose of sleeping pills. What more could she write? She could never confess that her own mind had encouraged her to take this step. “If only I could talk to someone…” remained unsaid on her suicide note

Homecoming

I am starting to feel like I was drugged, or maybe hypnotized. There could be no other way I could be so groggy. I am also feeling a strange kind of stiffness in my body, which I attribute to the drugs (or hypnosis). I slowly open my eyes (my pounding head does not let me open my eyes more than a slit) and look around the unfamiliar territory. I am in someone’s bedroom – mostly a lady’s. I must have gotten lucky last night. It’s a shame I cannot remember the details. Maybe when she comes back, something might come back to me. In the meanwhile, I think back on the moments of last night. It all started with a question and then, a challenge.

“Would you be willing to play a game of pool with me?”

This is a question you cannot say no to when it comes from a gorgeous woman clad in a red figure hugging dress. So I could not hold back my reply “And who, may I ask, is playing with me?” She gave a flirtatious smile, looked deep into my eyes for a while, turned around and hooked her fingers in a ‘follow me’ gesture. As I said before – a gorgeous girl in a sexy attire – there was no chance I would not have followed.

However, instead of taking me to the pool table where a lot of people were already playing, she took a turn towards a private ballroom. She passed right through the security and gestured me to do the same. I did so with a slight hesitance – the bouncers were hefty man and I did not want to pick up a fight.

 “We play here”, she pointed to a pool table where some people were already playing. Indicating that I join her, she went ahead to play. Now, pool is a game I excel in. I have placed bets with (and won) tons of money playing this very game in all kinds of situations. So there was no chance I would lose here. All the more reason to impress the girl, I was hoping to get lucky tonight by showing my prowess in the game.

We played quite a number of games (all of which I won). The more we played, the more I started losing focus of my surroundings. But somehow, in spite of all that, I kept winning. The more I was winning, the more she started flirting with me. That should have been my first clue. But I was intoxicated – both with booze and with the company.

The problem started after that. A couple of hours later (or was it days? My sense of time and surrounding was long gone then) I found that I was the only player in the pool. She looked at me with those intense eyes (I am sure those were the object of hypnotism now) and said, “I challenge you to one last game. If you win, you are free to ask anything of me. If I win, you will have to marry me.” Any man in their right minds would run away on that word. But intoxicated me went right on with the plan. And that is the last thing I remember.

And now I am here in this gorgeous room. But why am I still not able to move my body? The door opens and a woman steps in wearing a negligee. Looking at her face, a strong chill goes down my spine. My already drugged mind starts spinning again and even though I am lying down, I still feel dizzy. My breathing falters and I feel like I am having a heart attack.

Walking towards me is my long dead ex-wife. I had murdered her. The case had been long closed and I was never convicted. She was supposed to be nice and properly dead. But here she was, living and breathing, standing before me sipping a cup of coffee. Her smile was cruel and dangerous when she said, “Good Morning sweetheart, now it is your turn.”

Old is Gold

Oh the kids these days… They are always engrossed in their mobile phones. Somethings like Facepage or Birdie or instantgerm… Oh, is it Twitter and Instagram? Thank you, Alex (grumbles angrily for being corrected)

Who cares about all that? In our days we had friends who we would knock or their door or call them when we wanted to talk to them. We never needed these …. These…. Unspeakable things on mobile phones.

Wait… What? What do you mean my friends are these on these things? Oh wait, that is Joseph. Look how bald he has become! Hahaha!! And see, Richard is in a wheelchair. Maybe I should put my photo. I have a full head of hair, although it is white, and can walk on two feet, sometimes better than my grandson, Alex. Hoho! These old geezers don’t know what is good for them. Who puts up such photos on these websites? Uncle Sam is watching everything.

Wait, is that Sandra? She was my first crush. I never had the courage to talk to her in school. She is so pretty now, even prettier than what she was all those years ago. I wonder how she is these days.

How do you find all these people? What do you mean you have made an account in my name? These people are in my friends list? Even Sandra? How did you get her to accept my request? Oh, she sent one to me? Wow! Maybe I should say Hi to her. Maybe she is widowed and …. Hey, don’t do that without my consent. I was just thinking out loud.

She replied? Really? Wow, she is widowed for 10 years? Imagine that! Maybe I have a chance after all.

Okay folks, I am off on a date with Sandra. It is long overdue. I shall come back and complain about these rotten young kids later.

And he goes hopping and skipping in a suspender suit with a pink rose in hand and singing – ♫♫He's a jolly good fellow, he's a jolly good fellow, he's a jolly good fellow.... ♫♫

Magical Grandpa Source – viewsshewrites(dot)wordpress(dot)com

Nate opened his eyes and his Grandpa sitting next to him. “Grandpa!”, he exclaimed and got up to hug him. Grandpa hugged him back with equal enthusiasm. “Have you come to tell me a bedtime story? Are you feeling alright now?” Grandpa smiled at him. It used to be a daily routine for Grandpa to tell him a bedtime story. Sometimes he used to read out of books. But most of the times, Grandpa used to tell Nate stories and adventures from his life. Grandpa had a way of making everything appear larger than life and Nate used to revel in those stories more than the ones from the books. Grandpa’s stories were always much better.

But lately, Grandpa had not been keeping well. The bedtime routine was taken over by his parents. Although his mom and dad tried their best to keep the stories interesting with voice overs and enactments, they never matched up to how Grandpa did the routine. Nate had missed him terribly. Every night before going to bed, Nate used to go to Grandpa’s room and kiss his wrinkled cheek. Now Grandpa was here, sitting next to Nate, and he was very happy. “No, Nate, unfortunately I cannot tell you a story now. I am here to say bye to you. But I shall make it interesting for you.” “Why are you saying goodbye, Grandpa? Are you going somewhere? Will you never come back?” “I am going somewhere, child, but I am not going very far. And of course I will come back. Whenever you want me to come by, all you have to do is call me and I will be right here.” “Then I will call you everyday, Grandpa. I love you. I want you to be with me always.” Grandpa laughed heartily. “You are not going to let me live in peace, my boy. But then, you are MY grandson. Resilience is in our blood. So be it. I shall come whenever you call me. But remember one thing. For me to come and visit you, it will take a lot of energy from me. And as you know, I am old. The frequent travels back and forth will take the poor Grandpa’s energy away. Would you like your Grandpa to be tired all the time?” Nate was sad on hearing this. “No Grandpa, I don’t want you to be tired. But I want to see you all the time. I will miss you if you are not here with me.” “I know, I know, my boy. I am not saying I will not come at all. It will just be that the visits shall be less frequent. But that does not mean I am not with you. Whenever you want to talk to me, I shall be in your head. To be in your head, I do not have to travel much and I will not be tired. So I shall always be in your head. Talk to me and I will reply. How does that sound?” “That is wonderful, Grandpa. I will tell you everything about my school, my friends, my breakfast, everything. But tell me something. Where are you going? If you cannot travel, can I come and meet you?” “I am going to my best friend’s house, Nate. When you go over to Jacob’s house to play, would you want mom or dad to come to check on you and interrupt your play time? Just like that, I would prefer that my play time with my best friend is not interrupted. When we take a break from playing, I will come by to you.” Grandpa smiled sadly, “Now it is time for me to go, my boy. My best friend is waiting for me. Would you like to give your Grandpa a hug before going?” Nate hugged his Grandpa tight. His eyes were swimming with tears. He would miss his Grandpa terribly. “Now, now, my child. Don’t cry. You know what? After I go out of the house, go to your window. You can say by to me and my best friend.” When he went to his window, he was surprised to see his Grandpa getting on to a sled with Santa Claus. “Grandpa, your best friend is Santa Claus.” Nate’s tears were all forgotten as he jumped up and down and waved to his Grandpa as they flew away. Next morning, Nate’s mom woke him up teary eyed and told him that Grandpa is no more. Nate smiled “I know mom, Grandpa has gone with Santa Claus to play. He will be happy there. Santa Claus is his best friend. But he promised me he will always be there with me in my head.” This post is dedicated to my Grandpa who went with Santa Claus a few days back. Although he was not the story telling kind, he was the one who gave me the treasure of books. The abundance of books that he had given me in my childhood has developed my imagination, resulting in all these stories. Everything I am today is because of his subtle influence in my life. He shall always be remembered through my stories.

X for Xylophone Original post from https://viewsshewrites.wordpress.com/2019/03/04/x-for-xylo-practor/

The first time he saw the device, it felt like an alien object. He had seen it at his employer’s house. It was sitting in their living room, abandoned and dusty. He took the mallet and gave it a strike. The device sent out a gong-like sound, which alerted the employer.

“What are you doing with the Xylophone? We told you not to touch anything without permission. Now go and clean the dog’s house. You are not supposed to come to this room anyway.”

So this was a xylophone. He did not know anything about it. He did not even know what it was used for. Being the middle child in 3 kids, the elder one being a girl just a year older to him, the 4 year old was forced to earn for the family. He was supposedly lucky to be given this job at his father’s employer’s house where his father was the gardener. He couldn’t lose this job or his father would thrash him. They needed the money to have at least one meal a day. His losing the job would mean no food for them.

But Xylophone called out to him. He started noticing that the xylophone was never used. It was not even moved from its position for all the time he saw it. He also noticed that things which were not used for a long time seems to find its way to the curb during the house cleaning seasons. All he had to do was wait till someone realized it is not being used and threw it out.

That day finally came when the xylophone made its way to the curb and into his tiny space called his bedroom. Now he had another challenge. He couldn’t play with it without making a sound and he couldn’t let his family know he had taken the xylophone. Even if it was thrown away, his father would not appreciate him taking stuff from his employer’s home. He searched for many days before finding a secluded space in a dark alley where he could store away his toy and play at his leisure.

Xylophone soon became his friend and confidante. Soon he realized he need to know more about it. So he started working harder and sneakily saving to buy a smart phone. Using internet as his guide, he started teaching himself how to play the xylophone properly. Using a pseudo name “Xylo-practor” he started posting his work on social media to keep a track of his progress, all the while keeping this part of his life hidden from his family. Comments and suggestions on his post helped him improve himself with time.

However, working on Xylophone along with the other odd jobs to earn money was proving to be very difficult. His frequent absenteeism were getting noted by his family and he was losing track of the excuses he was making. Something had to be done to ensure that he follows his passion without getting beaten five ways to hell. He spoke to some of his friends and got a job in a different city. Moving away from his family would mean that he could practice without having the worry of having to lie or being caught. The new job at a mechanic shop took too much time in his day, but gave him the freedom to practice at night. Soon he started going to local pubs to perform at night. Initially it was for free, but soon he started getting small payment for his gigs. His performance got noticed and one day, someone told him about a contest being held for solo performance. He had never thought he would even perform in front of people and now, he had a chance to participate in a contest. His joy knew no bounds. Participating in the contest meant putting in the contest fees. This meant he would have to work more to get the money and practice more to be eligible to participate. His days were getting longer than nights.

But perseverance helped and he managed to earn enough to participate in the contest before the deadline. His audition performance went well and he was eligible to participate in the contest. Winning the contest meant he would get a chance to be a part of a touring music band. And money. It meant his family could get three square meals without struggle every day. It was a big thing for him.

The day of the contest he came to the venue to see a lot of participants. There were students who were studying music, local bands and many professional musicians who were his competition, although he noticed none of them had a xylophone. It appeared he was the only one with a xylophone. That got him a lot curious and mocking glances from the participants. But he hadn’t come so far for nothing. He knew his choice of instrument was unorthodox but that doesn’t mean it didn’t create music. The contest was for musicians. They didn’t specify which instrument could or could not be played. So he went on with his performance.

His chance to perform came and went in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t believe it was over so soon. When he had entered the stage, the judges did give him a funny look for the instrument but they hadn’t asked him to leave. And after his performance, they hadn’t shown any expression of liking or disliking his work. They just told him that they would inform him of their decision at the end of the competition. He was asked to leave for the day and wait for their communication at the end of three day contest.

The three days went at a snail’s pace for him. To forget the stress, he put in all his time into his work, which benefited him monetarily but without any stress relief. At the end of three days, he rushed back to the venue for the results. There was a list of selected candidates on the board in front of the venue. He scanned through the list three times but did not find his name. He realized he was not selected and that broke his heart. But he was determined not to let it affect his love for the xylophone. Making some plans for the future, he was just about to walk off the place when he heard someone call out for him. The lady calling out to him, confirming that he was the one with the xylophone told him there was someone who wanted to talk to him.

Surprised on the turn of events, he followed her to meet a distinguished looking gentleman. The man was very happy to see him and with tears in his eyes, told him that he loved his performance. “Xylophone is a dying art. Not many are interested in knowing the ways it could be played, let alone actually choosing it as their instrument of choice. I am given to understand that you have no formal education in playing the xylophone but you have played it so beautifully. I am a teacher in a distinguished music school and am trying to introduce xylophone classes in the school. I haven’t yet found someone who could teach it to them. If I give you a formal lesson on xylophone and smooth out some edges, would you be willing to teach in my school? My class to you would be free, of course.”

He was spell bound. In spite of having lost the competition, he found a new job in something that he loved. He has found his calling. The Xylo-practor can finally practice.

Fate works in mysterious ways. Even if you lose some, you may end up winning something much beyond what you lost. Don’t compromise on your dreams for your reality. Build your reality to match your dream. Have faith and keep pushing forward.

Divine Intervention

A re-write of an old post D for Drive and a part of ABC Story Challenge #TheJanuaryChallenge

Jack’s first drive after getting his drivers’ license was a nightmare he wished he could just forget. That scene was all he could see in front of him. The regret and guilt that were coursing through him every minute was painful and unbearable. He knew there was only one right thing here, but he could not bring himself up to do it. He lacked courage. He was weak. But he did cause an end to a life. It was all his fault. He should face it.

There was nothing else that he could do. He had not slept a wink since it had happened. The only way he could at least sleep was if he could confess. And sooner is always better than later. Jack decided he would surrender himself if it came to that. He was ready to accept the consequences of his action. It was no good being cowardly any more.

Going back on the same area was difficult in itself. After the accident, he did not dare drive again. So he took a taxi, but even after reaching the destination, he could not step out of the vehicle. It was finally when the driver threatened to throw him out of the cab that he found strength (not that he had a choice) to step out.

The door was opened by an old lady. She shot Jack a quizzical expression, while keeping a firm hand on the door, “Yes, young man? Are you looking for someone? How can I help you, my dear?”

Jack was overwhelmed by being near her. The poor lady has lost her son and it was all because of him. The poor man, he thought quietly. He couldn’t hold back his tears and broke down. “I am very sorry, ma’am. It was because of me that you lost your son. I am a coward. That was my first time driving and seeing an empty lane, I raced. I should never have raced in a residential area. I saw him very late. I couldn’t stop the vehicle. It was way too fast to control for me. I lost control of the vehicle and hit him. You have to understand, it was panic that made me speed away from there instead of waiting to help him. I should have stopped and helped him. I realize it very well. I should have had enough courage. Then your son would have been saved. It is all my fault. I accept all the consequences for my action.” He couldn’t stop sobbing standing on her footsteps.

The old lady’s eyes grew moist. She took his hand and led him inside. After making him sit on a couch, she got him some lemonade and forced him to drink some. Sitting next to him, she held on to his hand and let him cry his heart out. When finally he finished crying, she patted his hand, “You poor thing, you had to live with this guilt for so long and for nothing, too. If only you had stopped that day, you would not have faced so much of an issue.”

Jack did not understand what she was saying. He had expected anger, or even tremendous sadness, but here she was consoling him. It was unexpected and that made him go quiet. Seeing him stunned, she gave a small smile. “If you had stopped that day, you would have realized that AJ had not died. He was very much alive and had only fractured his leg with the fall. He could come home to call 911 to go to the hospital himself, although after that, he had to remain at the hospital for quite some time till his leg was better. But the near death experience changed him.”

“You see, this house and everything you see of affluence is made by my son. He was a highly focused student as a child and grew up to be equally, if not more focused at his work. He was determined to give us a life of comfort and luxury and had postponed his own life to give us that. So much so that he hardly ever had time for us. It was all work for him. Everytime we asked for some time from him, he used to say he would spend time with us when he has given us enough of comfort. Our wish to see him married and start a family was never even acknowledged..”

Running her hands over a xylophone kept on the mantle, she continued, “But that accident changed him. He realized that he could have lost his life and everything he wanted to accomplish apart from money would still have been incomplete. The time at the hospital made him realize that his parents are growing old too and might not live long enough for him to make time for us. He realized that he did not know anything about our well being because of his work load. He also realized that his work had pushed away all his friends and in his time of need, there was no one apart from us who were there with him. He would have been alone if it had not been for us. And that was a changing point for him.”

The old lady’s smile grew wider now. “He quit his job soon after that and started working independently as a consultant. Now he has time for us. He takes us for our regular health check ups and takes care of us. We never needed his money. We only needed his time. It took an accident to make him realize that. Now he is in a relationship with an old school friend of his. I think they might end up together, although this is just a starting phase of their relationship. So, in effect, I should be thanking you for all that has happened. If not for that day, we might have died and gone without our son realizing how much he was losing due to his work. You saved him from being a zombie, devoted to his work.”

Forever Mine Original post from – https://nairdevis.wordpress.com/2019/02/28/forever-mine/

Story Prompt – You are 21 years old when you realize you are immortal. You no longer age and nothing can harm you. Nothing will be able to penetrate your skin, such as a knife or a bullet. You find this rewarding at first. However after living like this for centuries you decide you have had enough. You will kill yourself, but how?

I am not selfish. I repeat, I am not selfish. All I did was for love, true love – the kind of love that is once in a lifetime. And wouldn’t I know it? My lifetime had been going on for so many years. But when I saw him for the first time, I realized he is the one. But I think I am going ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

I was 21 when I became immortal. An experiment went wrong in a science lab that I was visiting and I was subjected to some radiations. Something changed in my DNA and I became immortal. Don’t ask too many details, please. It was hundreds of years ago and I don’t recollect a lot of it. Just know that I am immortal and let’s roll with that.

Over the years, I had many and many love interests. Being 21, my desire for companionship was eternal. But being immortal, I had to leave those love interests before they got too suspicious. It was not too much of a trouble to me. I had no interest in any of them. They were just there at the right time until it was time to move on.

Then I saw him, and it was like lightning has struck through me. An electric jolt filled my entire body whenever I looked at him or met his eyes. I had heard of true love, but it was the first time that I experienced it, and I loved this feeling. I did not want to let go of him. It took me a while to track him down, figure out where he lived and where he worked, who lived with him.

Incidentally, it turned out that he was married. That would have been enough to deter someone else from him, but not me. I had to try, at least once. I decided if he was happy in his marriage, I will let go. It would be painful for sure, but I could be a bigger person. But I had to make sure. So I found a way to be associated with him and started flirting with him. He responded to my flirting and that was hint enough for me. He must not be happy in his marriage. Why else would he respond to my flirting? That was my calling, alright.

Now all I had to do was to get rid of his wife. That was very simple. I did not want to wait for him to ask it for me. I knew he would ask. He was my soul mate. He had to ask. But I wanted to get to that stage fast. The plan was very simple – I was immortal with an impenetrable skin. A car accident, for me, is like eating a cake. And within a few days, his wife was dead. Initially though, his reactions surprised me. He looked like he was devastated. He did not leave his home for many days and became a shadow of his existence. It must all be an act. After all, he was my soulmate. He did not know it yet, but he is, of that I am sure. He should not be so devastated. He should just be sad so that I can get an entry into his life. But why would he be so devastated at her death?

I started visiting him more and more. I, too, can play act, and pretended to be sorry for his loss. However, his acting was getting on my nerves. Why could he not just stop pretending and be with me? Then one day, I decided to seduce him. After I seduce him and make him come to me, I could make him believe that I was the one for him and we could live happily ever after. I went to him and tried everything that I knew worked on men. But he refused to be seduced. He was not even paying any attention to me. He was only gazing at his wife’s photography and crying. In a fit of anger, I hit him. How could I know that my strike could kill him? After all, it was just with a chair that I hit him with.

Now I was devastated. How could he be dead? We were supposed to spend our lifetime together. We were soul mates. And that is when an idea struck me. If we could not be together in life, we could at least be together in death. I smashed his face to a pulp. Now they could not have an open casket.

At his wake, just before the coffin was rolled out, when there was no one around, I entered the coffin and laid next to him. I stayed with him when he was buried. The sound of sand covering the coffin was music to my ears. We were getting engulfed together. It was a dream come true for me. Slowly, the oxygen in the coffin started depleting and I was getting sleepy. Even when I knew I would die soon, I was happy because I would finally be with him.

So you see? I was not selfish. I did it all only for true love.

W for Worth Original post from https://nairdevis.wordpress.com/2019/02/23/w-for-worth/

There was always a fascination for royalty with her. She wanted to be associated in some way to any royal family. During childhood, it was her grandmother who supplied her daily fix. From the forest of enchantments to creating a palace of illusions, she sailed through her childhood in a dream of being a princess.

As she grew up, she started researching her ancestors. There should someone in her long line of ancestry who would be (or even slightly related to) the royalty. After all she was born in Jaipur (India), the land of Prince and Princesses, of Kings and Queens. There should be some thread of connection, some golden line which will make her dream come true.

However, try as she may, she couldn’t find any connection either through her mother’s side or through her father’s side. Even her father’s attempt to console her by saying she is her daddy’s princess did nothing to placate her. She was desolate. All she wanted to be was a real princess. Why was it so difficult?

Gradually another idea cropped up her mind. She could get married to a royalty. That is in her power and could very well be done. But for that, since she didn’t have any family background to support her ambition, she needed to make her own destiny. She had to make enough money to be worthy of a royalty match.

Thinking this, she put her heart and soul into educating herself and getting a good job. Keeping a single track mind, she worked her way up the ladder and some time down the lane, she set up her own business. Using her management background, she drove her business to a major success and got herself posted in the list of successful entrepreneurs. Soon after that, she started looking for marriage prospects. But then, she realized that she couldn’t find anyone worthy of her attention. None of the prospects that she was meeting with were driven enough in life as her.

That’s when her father took her hand and said, “don’t you see what has happened? In your drive to be related to a royalty, you created an empire for yourself and has become a royalty all by your own worth. You are a Queen now with your own empire. And it is all by your hard work and passion. You no longer need to be related to any royalty. You are a royalty now.”

The value for yourself is much more powerful when it is self made rather than when it is handed down.