Visions Of Gideon- A-Z #22

Click on song 22 on my playlist as you read this post.

If you’re not familiar with my theme, you can check it out here.

Visions of Gideon by Sufijan Stevens is one of my favorite songs ever. It appears on the soundtrack for the movie “Call Me By Your Name” which again is one of my favorite movies ever, and actually introduced me to Sufijan’s music! Immerse yourself in this flash fiction which to me, encapsulates the vibe of this song.


It’s been almost five years since I’ve come back here, and I’ve had to now, owing to important business in the area. Of delaying this visit consciously, I may have been guilty. I keep hurt too close to my heart, nostalgia resides too close to my foundation. What five years they’ve been, too!

The garden remains unchanged. The villa stands happy still, amongst sunlit peach trees and with the cool smell of wet soil ever-present in its vicinity. The people stand as happy as I remember, too. Always a wide smile and hospitable concern, to welcome any windswept memory like me.

“The harvest has been eh, Grande, this summer.” I agreed with my host, looking at the ripe peaches being plucked by the laughing children, the bowls of green and black olives kept pickling or drying out in the sun. Leisure radiated off every dry leaf on the ground, every waft of sunlight, and every echo of steps on the wooden flooring.

The institute of my last stay remained unchanged too, maybe a little lonelier though. The wooden shelves still creaked merrily on their hinges when I dropped off my baggage. My mind bloomed in fond memory on catching sight of the little red notebook of mine I’d forgotten here in the event of my last visit, still in perfect condition, though a little dusty, kept in the exact same drawer I’d left it in years ago.

That evening, I ventured to take a walk to the town square and down to the creek where so much had happened all those years ago. What courage struck me then, that I thought I’d be strong enough to be mortally contained on witnessing those locations again! Sitting down on one of the plastic chairs threw me back immediately into a fine summer day when I was sitting at almost the same spot too. It was the heated breeze, the smell of tobacco from the daily gathering of the town’s Nonni, the well-versed sounds of shuffling cards that once more arrived phantom-like in my lonely silence. Had time passed at all?

I walked again, trancelike, past the shops stirring my mind with familiarity and stoking my awe with their resolute unchangingness. The creek provided no respite to my nostalgia, and rather sparked it more with its ruthless beauty. The very earth of this place was determined to keep my senses moored to its essence, its elements demanding every ounce of my tethered attention. And I gave in happily, pouring my all into my surroundings, becoming my surroundings. Being in this monument of nature itself finally, grew my vestiges back to their monstrous forms, amounting to toll my entire spirit and mind together.

God forbid, how could I ever consciously choose to depart from this temple whilst keeping my soul unbroken?!


All of the images used are locations from the movie “Call Me By Your Name”, and this ended up being pretty much a canon fic of when(and if) Oliver decided to come back to Lombardy still single(again, I’ve read the sequel so this is kind of an alternate universe situation). I’ve also tried to implement the twisty and innovative style of using words from the author of the book, Andre Aciman.

Hope you enjoyed it in some sense even if you haven’t watched/read the movie/book!

You can find all my A-Z posts for this year here.

Unholy Faces- A-Z #21

Click on “Unholy Faces” by Florist on my playlist for today!

If you’re not familiar with my theme, you can check it out here.

It’s the last week of the A-Z Challenge, finally! Just 6 more posts to go.

“Unholy Faces” is another song introduced to me through Grey’s Anatomy. Continuing along with my ventures into writings of the horror genre, this song stood out to me instantly from my library, owing to its intriguing title. Although the song itself is quite pleasant, the title just sounds perfect for setting up a creepy tale! So that’s what I’ve tried to do below-

*Might be a little triggering if you cannot stand blood*


It was a lazy Sunday. Elise slowly came back to life as she awoke from her sleep, unworried about obligations for the day: there were none. The air smelled wet, had she left the window open again? She really was getting too forgetful.

A loud gasp left her mouth as she sat up suddenly. The pillow fell off the bed and onto the ground. She was sure she’d seen a face peeking in from behind the curtain, right by the wall clock. But no, there was nothing a split second later when she rubbed her eyes and looked at the place again. Nothing looked out of place. She checked the window, it was indeed latched from inside. Nope, she hadn’t forgotten to lock it last night then.

She opened the window and gasped once more. There lay a dead pigeon there, its neck bent the wrong way. Could it be the storm last night that might have killed it? She felt terrible for the bird, it must have hit the rafters on the roof.

She went in shuddering and checked the messages on her phone. She noticed that she’d missed a call from someone. But wait, why did the phone number seem familiar? When she clicked on the missed call, it showed her the name. It just said, “Home- telephone”. She’d gotten a call on her phone, directed from the telephone in her own house. What was happening today? This must be some sort of mistake, she was alone at home!

She clicked on the number to initiate a call, hoping to confirm that the number was somehow saved wrong in her phone. But she jumped a second later, because the loud, echoing ringing of the telephone filled the empty house. There was someone here. She knew it. And she had just alerted the person about her knowledge, because of the loud ringing.

She quickly went and locked herself in the kitchen and dialed the police, her mom, and anyone she could think of. Help was on its way, very soon. She waited, shivering, her forehead resting against the door of the kitchen.

She didn’t hear anyone moving, and before she could react, she felt the cool tip of a sharp kitchen knife, her kitchen knife, pushing on her throat. She caught half a glimpse of the dirty bearded stranger, who she thought she’d seen before a few times around her neighborhood and on the train station too. The pressure of the blade grew more, and she felt her blood being drawn out.

“You’re gonna give me what I want, before someone interrupts us, eh?” The stranger rasped out. She felt her throat being cut open, and his mouth resting on her carotid artery as she blacked out, and went back to death forever.


This was kinda, of uninspired? I had a couple great ideas but I guess it doesn’t flow very well. Oh well.

You can find all my A-Z posts for this year here.

State Of Grace- A-Z #19

Click on song 19 on my playlist for today!

If you’re not familiar with my theme, you can check it out here.

“State Of Grace” by Taylor Swift is one of the best songs to ever exist. For this post, I took some of my favorite lyrics from the song and tried to incorporate them into a completely different setting. It may leave you surprised :p


The city buzzed with midday traffic. The tall buildings looked like disapproving adults as they loomed over the obnoxiously loud honks and arguing victims of road rage(who were fairly common).

Matt stepped onto the street cautiously enough, a bagel in one hand, coffee in the other, and walked fast through the traffic lights when it was still green for walkers. He slowly made his way across the crossing, taking care not to drop whatever he was holding. Something felt weird today like the air had a strange perfume in it. The skies had decided to color themselves a unique grey he’d never seen before.

*SPLASH*

He swore at the top of his voice as a car zoomed past him, barely missing. What an asshole! It was a red light! But he saw sadly that the make of the car was pretty high-end. It would another wealthy brat, who would pay his way out of legal action. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught a police van flashing its siren at the zooming car, and he hoped the guy would be charged, though it was touch and go. “Rich people, they get away with anything,” he thought to himself.

The bagel had thankfully survived the ordeal, but the coffee lay in a puddle on the ground now. He sighed as he bit into the bagel and headed towards his apartment, away from the busy streets and busy lives.

Walking into his apartment was like entering a portal. Silence fell suddenly as he shut the door, and he felt all of his irritation fade away. He threw the paper bagel wrapper in the dustbin and again felt a twinge of some strange feeling. It climbed up his spine like a shiver, but it wasn’t exactly cold either. As he had bent down to drop the wrapper, he’d felt like he was being watched. But no one was home, it was all dark and still.

He changed into comfortable pajamas and was about to go to bed when his eyes fell on the bedroom mirror. It was unnaturally opaque-looking as if its reflecting abilities were seeping out of it. Even as he watched, it grew duller and duller, until he could see nothing but himself in the mirror. And then, the cold voice sounded out. It had been years since he’d last heard that voice.

“Let’s go.” Every syllable rang out due to such close proximity, though the words were whispered softly. He knew who it was, though he never saw it coming in.

How could he say no to it? It was his only weakness. All the effort he’d put into himself to become stronger, more emotionally stable over the years seemed to crumble at the sound of the voice. All his bleeding seemed to fade away in time. How did it always find the weakest link, his Achilles Heel? Well, guess they were hands of fate at this point.

Darkness enveloped his senses in a ruthless game as he gave in to the voice and descended into his evils.


I really want to start writing more horror/mystery, because I feel like that’s the only genre that will keep my own interest while writing if I attempt a longer project like a novel. Well, let’s see how that goes.

I know, this post is very short. I just have no patience to write a bigger one right now.

You can find all my A-Z posts for this year here.

Bye, see you tomorrow!

Motion Sickness- A-Z #13

Click on song 13 on my playlist as you read this post! It’s day 13!! 13 is one of my lucky numbers.

If you’re not familiar with my theme, you can check it out here.

Yes, I suffer from motion sickness. Terrible motion sickness. It’s been something of a family joke running around for quite a few years. There’s always a point, 2 or 3 hours into the drive where I go, “I haven’t puked yet! This is good, I’m finally done with motion sickness.” But no, it comes rushing back(or should I say gushing out?) of my mouth like there’s no tomorrow. So yeah. I hate long drives for this reason.

I also hate EMOTIONAL motion sickness, what Phoebe Bridgers sings about in this song. What do I think emotional motion sickness is? Just the feeling of going back to the same conversations, arguments, and feelings again and again with the same person. Like an endless drive on a hot day, with no interesting surroundings or entertainment of any kind.

Well, I’m gonna stick to normal motion sickness below, because I have literally zero emotions right now.


“Don’t you dare puke in the car!” Marie yelled as she caught the familiar, nauseous look on her son’s face. His mouth was scrunched up and his eyes fixed on a spot, as he shuffled around in the backseat. She knew of this behavior only too well.

Eric looked at her with his jaw set with determination and twitched ominously. This was as if a cue for the parents. Marie yelled at her husband to hit the brakes. Brent hit the brakes as fast as he could safely, swerving to the left corner of the road, where he stopped the vehicle. Marie was out before the car had stopped fully and quickly ushered Eric to a clump of wilderness growing on the side of the country road.

They were already late for the wedding they were driving to. These unwanted stops were clearly not helping.

They started on their journey once more, now that the ordeal was passed. Not even ten minutes had passed, when Marie yelled again. Eric sat in the backseat once more, this time munching on a huge bag of potato chips.

“Why are you eating in the car? You’ll get sick again!”

“But mom, I’m hungry!” He said through a mouthful of chips. He knew the bag was gonna be snatched away and tried cramming as much food as he could into his mouth before it happened. Sure enough, the bag was taken away in one swift swipe, Marie clearly was experienced. However, the damage was done. And Eric was sick once more, soon after.

But now all was going well. They were almost on the outskirts of their home city and driving happily towards their destination. Things had run smoothly for the past hour. Marie put her head out of the window and felt the cool air rushing past. She could finally relax and enjoy the ride. She began to grow sleepy as she stared at the blur of greenery through the window of the car.

Was it her sleepy mind that made it so? The scenery was definitely getting clearer, it was slowing down. She felt her mind grow confused in her state of half-sleep. It was a while before she sat up completely awake. The car had stopped on the roadside again, and Brent was softly shaking her awake. He seemed unnaturally polite.

“What’s wrong? Is it Eric again…” She looked back and saw Eric snoozing quite peacefully in the backseat.

“Honey, don’t be angry, but…”

Marie was already angry. She felt like she knew what was coming.

“I left the, um, gift you bought for the couple at home.” Brent then flinched, expecting a nice long outburst.

But Marie was too exhausted to even be angry anymore. “Just go on. Drive, I’ll call to tell them that we’re gonna be late.”

Pleasantly surprised at his luck, Brent complied immediately. Marie sighed as she settled back for a nap after the call. This family would never change.


I think a lot of sitcoms like “The Middle” or “Modern Family” have seeped their way into this post. Maybe I should go back to Modern Family again.

You can find all my A-Z posts for this year here.

Lost In Japan- A-Z #12

Tune into song 12 on my Spotify playlist as you read this post.

If you’re not familiar with my theme, you can check it out here.

Lost in Japan by Shawn Mendes makes today’s prompt, and it’s one I’ve been looking forward to! This song holds a lot of nostalgia for me and was an absolute JAM of mine in 2018. Also, I might or might not have a small crush on Shawn Mendes, which might or might not make me have a soft spot for him.

The song takes inspiration from 2003’s classic movie “Lost In Translation” which is one of my favorite movies of all time. Japan is a country I definitely want to visit and the entire vibe of that country is very strongly happy to me. In fact, it’s a common practice for me to go watch “Walking in Japan” videos on YouTube, which are basically videos of people walking through Japanese streets with a camera attached to them which makes you feel like you’re walking there. It calms me down instantly and also sparks my creativity. I also associate a lot of LoFi music with Japan and peace.

Here goes a flash fiction piece based on a Japanese setting.


Summer is beginning to set in. The cherry blossoms are just showing up, and the snow is all but forgotten. The winds carry the soft scent of damp soil from the fresh rains earlier.

It’s very peaceful walking down the quiet streets, although it’s not silent because of the lack of people. No, it just seems like a day where everyone is obliged to make no noise, to not disturb the serene atmosphere. The neon lights are just starting to show on the storefronts and on the pubs lining the street.

I take comfort in being surprised by the shops which emerge one by one in my sight. Most of them are modern stores, glistening with their glass fronts and vivacious displays, but one in a while, an old wooden structure appears, overshadowed by its neighbors but still standing up resiliently to their new with its ancient. They smell like worn wood and memories, and I rub my palm against the rough surface of the wooden wall as I walk by. Something about the striking contrast of these stores makes me feel fond of the culture of this place.

I don’t notice the dark creep up on me and suddenly, I’m walking on neon-lit paths enticing me with their hypnotic stance. The rain has started to fall again in humble patters. As I get closer to my stay, the sounds of the city are coming into focus again.

I could spend hours staring at the bright fluorescents. They bathe the wet ground in their lights and if you stare long enough, it looks like the whole city is glowing with mysterious aurorae. And then the aromas waft by from uncountable street food stalls, all the different ingredients mixing to form one magical concoction. It really is a perfect evening today.

I will miss these leisurely walks in shy alleyways, the smell of peace, and the chatter of solitude till the end of my days.


Writing this made me feel very happy myself. Ahh I want to visit Japan so badly.

Have a calm day ahead guys!! See you tomorrow with the next post:)

Instant Crush- A-Z #9

Tap on song nine on my Playlist as you read this post! Today you’ll find that I’ve added “Instant Crush” by Daft Punk to the playlist.

If you’re not familiar with my theme, you can check it out here.

So here’s the thing. This is one of the nine posts for the A-Z challenge that I finished writing in March itself. When I was looking for songs to choose for the letter “I”, I decided on Instant Crush after a LOT of deliberation because I had quite a few songs I’d like to put on here. And I finally decided on this song because I knew exactly what post I’d make alongside it, apart from loving the song itself. It was pretty obvious to me what I should write about, it’s literally in the title.

A “crush” is such an open-ended word. Me, I have different kinds of crushes. Intellectual crushes on people I admire, personality crushes on people I like being around, and friend crushes too. I definitely believe that friend crushes exist, which are a mix of intellect and personality for me. I think a crush for me is anyone who gives you a jolt of admiration, may it be for any aspect of their being.

But one REALLY weird thing happened when, let’s say a person of interest, mentioned this song out of nowhere on their Instagram a couple of days after I’d scheduled this post. I didn’t even know that person listened to Daft Punk because I’ve always known that person’s taste to be upbeat 2000s pop and rock.

So well, as baffled as I was, I managed to change up my original flash fiction a little, because I couldn’t just NOT put some things in here after that co-incidence. I do think it turned out a little better than the original post too.

The song itself is so moody. I really have a thing for longer songs with instrumental runs, preferably electric guitars or synths. So yeah all in all this was definitely one of my favorite pieces to write.

Here it goes-



It was a very hot day, made even hotter under the blue tin roof of the badminton courts. The air inside was humid and making everyone appear drenched from a downpour.
On this lazy afternoon of August, everyone seemed to have developed a sudden urge for fitness and had trooped to the courts to play.


I frowned in disapproval at the crowded place, from the corner-most court. I hated hordes and preferred the usually half-empty silence of the arena. I also frowned in disapproval at my partner in the match, who’d shown undue flamboyance yet again while playing her shot, missing the shuttle spectacularly. But this frown was more endearing, and soon broke into a peal of teasing laughter.


As my partner bent down to tie her shoelaces, my eyes fell yet again on the four people playing on the adjoining court. Well, one person in particular, who showed the finesse of a bumbling chicken while flapping his arms, trying too hard to make contact with the shuttle, and performing a strange set of exotic moves in the process. This time, as I watched, the clumsy stranger almost threw his racket across in his attempt to hit the shuttle, and his friends all broke into laughter which the stranger too joined in and gave up trying with a shake of his head.

I cracked a smile myself as I caught the stranger’s well-hidden unease beneath the laughter.

About an hour later, I was walking home, completely drained from the sport. It looked like it was about to rain and I wanted to get home before it did. His brain zoned out his friend’s talking and came to rest in a relaxed stupor as he smelled the rainy air and wet soil.

Suddenly, I felt a soft brush of fur on my left foot and started: I looked down to see two dogs excitedly jumping around. This was pretty usual: the dogs who lived around here always came to greet whoever walked to and from the courts. I bent down to pet the familiar pooch which had a smattering of black across its dirty white body. Just then, someone stumbled into me.

I looked around to see the same stranger from before trying to catch his balance, apparently surprised by the dogs.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he steadied himself. There was a quiet confidence in his reserved nature that I couldn’t quite place. My friend, being talkative as she was, began conversing with the stranger, who looked so uncomfortable at the sudden onslaught of words that he could only give monosyllabic answers. My eyes involuntarily turned awkward and apologetic, which the stranger caught somehow and thanked me by holding our gaze for a few seconds.

Finally, as the first few drops of rain descended, the merriment ended, but not before my friend asked the stranger where he lived, and if maybe they could all play together sometime. It turned out, that he’d moved into the neighborhood recently. When asked if we could all meet to play again, the stranger replied with a vague yet polite “Sure”. Weirdly though, the stranger seemed to look at me directly while saying this.

Then the party split up and my friend and I hurried towards our homes because the rain continued to deepen. Even as we half-ran, I felt my friend’s eyes on me and when I looked at her, she wore a smug expression with questioning eyebrows.

“What?” I asked while hurrying along with her and her mouth curved higher.

“Well…” she started and I felt myself turn away. It had started raining in full earnest now, but I didn’t mind getting drenched anymore.


Writing this post really took a lot out of me, not just time and patience but also courage because I know that some people who know me well will see through all the easter eggs here, and others might put two and two together to learn something. But eh well who cares at this point.

You can find all my A-Z posts for this year here.

See you all tomorrow!

Goodbye- A-Z #7

Today’s a special song! Find it here on my playlist at #7.

If you’re not familiar with my theme, you can check it out here.

Guten tag!! It’s day Sieben of the A-Z challenge and this one is gonna be a dark one. No like literally, it’s inspired by the Netflix show “Dark”. Oh and also it’s dark so yeah. But don’t worry! You can stick around for the flash fiction piece below even if you haven’t watched the show!

Dark is a show I watched in 2020 and it was a defining show for that year. I like so many things about it, be it the complex characters and story, the eerie vibe of it, or the correspondence with dates in the show to real life. Naturally, the song for today is Apparat’s “Goodbye” which serves as the theme song for the show.

There’s one particular scene in the last season of the show, where two characters, Magnus and Franziska, talk about the apocalypse, without knowing that it is indeed upon them soon. This piece is what I imagined their last moments to be like(it was never actually shown in the episodes). The following flash fiction is as seen from Magnus’ POV.


Ash. Darkness. Smoke. What is going on?

The sky went out like a faulty lightbulb moments ago. Now even the lakeshore scares me. The clear water which was a beautiful scene even when the grey clouds came, now looks sinister. The dark water swirls unnaturally, and I feel scared of what skeletons it hides in its inky depths.

Franziska shakes my shoulder and I look at her pale white and scared face. She signs- What is all this?– maybe for the tenth time today. The clouds came first, and the wind seemed strangely unmoving. Then the sense of doom came along like tremors. Or were they actual tremors? And at last, we’re here. The entire world seems to be flickering on and off as if it’s a radio unable to settle on a frequency. It doesn’t feel real.

I sign It’s okay to Franziska and feel a pool of guilt joining the fear in my stomach. Clearly, it’s not okay. Something is wrong. It’s good she can’t hear the loud thunder-like sounds. I have a suspicion that she feels the vibrations of these blasts anyway, but she doesn’t react if she can.

Last month, I was worried my mom would find my stash of weed. Last week, I was worried if she would ever find Dad. And today, I’m worried I’ll never find her again. What is this? Why am I smiling at this thought? My thoughts seem as unstable as the reality around me.

And then it happens. The loudest boom yet, and I wince inadvertently at the surprise. Franziska looks at me. She doesn’t need to sign what she wants to say. She doesn’t wait for an answer either. She knows I’m not gonna tell her anything. She just puts her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes.

And she couldn’t have done it sooner. I don’t want her to see what I’m seeing right now. There’s a blue-black orb in the sky, crackling with electricity. I know exactly where it is, I’ve been to that part of the forest before. It’s right above the nuclear factory. It rises higher and higher and then stops midair like a grotesque insect.

My whole body is going numb. My mind seems to be forgetting its life. Where am I? Where’s the path home from here? Where is home? And then a brilliant flash of light interrupts my view of the orb. No, not flash. They’re specks of light rising from below. Not below, they’re coming from my skin! I look at Franziska and she’s a beautiful mess of lights rising into the sky, all gravitating towards the orb. Who am I looking at again? I lie back on the damp soil, completely limp. The sky is beautiful, there are little fireflies everywhere. I feel lighter and lighter, and the brightness hurts my eyes.

Wish it wouldn’t be so bright. Wish it could be darker. I try closing my eyelids to shield my eyes from the harsh light but there’s no need now. The universe seems to have granted me one wish at last. The light is fading, growing lesser and lesser. And then, it is no more.

Der anfang ist die ende und the ende ist der anfang.


I think this is the best flash fiction I’ve ever written. I love how it turned out and I can’t help but see some Maze-runner-ish dystopian writing in here. The show “Dark” is definitely a must-watch. If you like dystopia and dark philosophy as much as I do, Dark will surely score high in your books. Did I mention I started learning German because I loved this show so much? (Dark is originally made in the German language)

Auf weidersehen, freunde! Bis morgen mit einem anderen post!!

(Goodbye, friends! See you tomorrow with another post!!)

You can find all my A-Z posts for this year here.

Electric Love- A-Z #5

Tap on the latest song on my playlist while reading this post, which is “Electric Love” by Børns.

If you’re not familiar with my theme, you can check it out here.

I’m sure you’ve come across a person or people in the crowd who stands out to you. Even though you’re complete strangers, there’s a jolt that passes through you and gives you a rush of adrenaline.

I’ve had a fair share of such people, some quite recently too. This post is like a mixture of all those instances(dramatized a little).


I sat up with a start at the crowded train station. I’d dozed off waiting for my train, which was late by a whole hour today. The bench was weirdly cold on that warm night, and I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. Damn this train! It’s not like I was late for anything important, so I settled back down calmly and tried to sleep again. But it wouldn’t come now, and I was forced to stare at the bustling station for my entertainment.

There were all sorts of people there- crying children being shushed by their parents, tired parents trying to make sure their kids didn’t wander, old people walking along irritatedly, middle-aged sons and daughters struggling to keep up with them while carrying heavy loads of luggage. Despite how happening it all was, it was all eye-droopingly boring to watch.

And lo and behold, my eyes were had indeed started drooping again in a few minutes when I saw those eyes. Sitting in the train which had stopped on the opposite platform, they peeped through the bars on the window, the body housing them a mere silhouette of smoke all the way across.

They shone like glittering pinpoints of amusement which cut through people, noise, and boredom like a ship through water and landed in my vicinity. No, they hadn’t yet seen me. But could one really be that oblivious to what I considered was pure, cinematic intensity and that my gaze cast their way?

And sure enough, they positioned themselves to look at me and I felt drawn into their abyss. The air around me scalded comfortably on my skin and my breath felt alive inside my chest. A lurch of inexplicable but primordial emotion rose up like a monster in my stomach and I’m sure it showed on my face. They grew rounder and wider as if coming out of a trance themselves. I still couldn’t see the temple these orbs decorated.

What was I doing on this side of the void? I should be with them, drinking in their green! I stood up slowly, and all around me bodies were rising up from their slumber like smoke rising up from a raging wildfire. Were all of them attracted to you too? Well, how couldn’t they, but I knew that you had it in your eyes for me and me only. I walked onward, hypnotized in the stupor.

And suddenly my reverie was vanquished by a strong gale of reality the train brought along with it. It flew across my being with ferocity, uprooting my haze. The train was here, an hour late, but here. All around me the people had gotten up to board it. I quickly regained my composure and tried to remember what I’d put in my system that evening.

I climbed up the train and tried to get a glimpse through the window, hoping to see to whom my distraction belonged. But no, the train on the adjoining platform had moved along leaving behind nothing but a dusty trail and a dusty memory.

I never saw those eyes ever again, and always have wondered who was it so electric, that they disheveled my soul with their mere presence.


See you tomorrow with the next post and a new song!

You can find all my A-Z posts for this year here.

A Little Death- A-Z #1

Welcome to the first post of the A-Z challenge 2022! If you’re not familiar with my theme of the season, you can check it out here.

You can listen to my A-Z playlist alongside reading my post. You’ll find that I’ll add songs for each post alongside the post of the day, so right now there’s only one song on there. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post to find out what the next song is!

Today’s song is “A Little Death by The Neighborhood.

This is a flash fiction that sprung to my mind while listening to this song.


It gets tiresome. Very tiresome, to look at the same tear-stained faces, hear the same wailing voices every time. But I, I’m not seen or heard. I float along unbothered between all the weeping souls, still living their temporary and minuscule lives.

What is it that makes them weep so much? Don’t they know, haven’t they seen that every human must wither and die one day? Haven’t they, in most cases, spent decades with the same person? Why do they desire more even then? I will never understand this.

And then there are some, who wish to be together even in death. What a foolish request, for everyone is anyone, and anyone is someone, in death.

This one comes off easily. There are some who cling too hard. Imbeciles. Why would you want to cling to life? When all it does is bring you suffering, and bait you with happiness just long enough to devastate you later?

I cannot say though, that I haven’t been curious to feel human either. What is this force they talk about which binds them to mortality, that makes them want to live? How must it feel to feel love, to agree to get hurt, to yearn to be cut open? I’m curious, so very curious.

But alas, I guess I’ll never know. Not when there are constant souls to reap, a never-ending montage of sadness to confront.


Well, quite a dark start to the challenge. I have to mention that I was also inspired by “The Book Thief” by Markus Zusak while writing this. I’ve always been fascinated with the concept and philosophy of what we call death. Dare I say, I’m even interested. Well, I know for sure I’ll find out one day.

You can find all my A-Z posts for this year here.

Until next time!!

Hidden Away- Flash Fiction #3

There was a scent of summer upon the air. The sunlit streets of old Italy glistened with a drowsy silence. It was in unknown corners of the world like this, that he felt most comforted. He could walk by the little glass-doored shops and pubs and lose himself in time forever. Even the corroded stone streets, now glowing white in the afternoon Sun, reminded him of a happy childhood long passed away, yet immortal in his memories and emotions. This town was indeed an emotion all in itself.

His hands rubbed the corner of a house he’d passed countless times before, and he came across the familiar cul-de-sac with the dried-up fountain. He’d never seen it running, even when he was a kid. His lips formed a nostalgic curve as he looked upon the scene. As ever, the fountain was covered with stray ivy and dust. It was shaped like a woman, with the water spout coming through a pot she was tilting into the pool below. She looked surprisingly morose if one cared to look close enough. This had always been a mystery for him. Wasn’t architecture supposed to depict only happy people?

He turned a sharp right and walked into the old pub, which you could see only if you knew where to look. Indeed, it seemed like a portion of history hidden away, intent on not being seen. He sat down on his favorite table at the far corner, which was right next to one of the only two windows present. The view was unexpected for someone who didn’t know the geography well: it opened into a view of steep cliffs and a ravine far, far below. A cool breeze rushed in even on this persistently hot summer day, and he got the dizzying feeling like the pub was hanging in the open air for a fleeting moment.

He ordered his usual, and drank in silence as he attempted to finish organizing his notes. The sunlight slowly receded, leaving the pub in an eerie light of only candlelights and one forlorn electric bulb near the counter.

Darkness had fallen fully when he finally emerged out on the street. He took a deep breath and looked around the scene with a sudden intensity in his eyes as if to save it in his memory forever. Well, he might as well. He sighed sadly as he walked back. This was the last time ever that he’d see this place.