Custom Made

“Can you make a three-feet coffin?”

custom made


A short story in six words. Would love to hear your thoughts.

Life

Nine to five —
work, work, work.
Take breaks —
while away —
gossip more —

die unlived.

Two of a Kind

“Feeling the stares of everyone around her, she closed her eyes, took a bite, and imagined she was eating imported chocolate.” — Today’s Author

two of a kind

Knowing what the peanut bar was going to do to her only made it difficult. She felt her eyes well up in fear and in anger.

How dare they make her eat that stuff knowing well that she was allergic?

She chewed slowly, dreading the pain the peanut bar would cause. But there was no way out; her seniors were determined to get to her. They had been ragging juniors the whole day, and the management was purposefully oblivious.

She kept chewing, her tongue unwilling send in the poison. One of the seniors lost her patience.

“Eat up, midget! We haven’t got all day!” The others cheered and egged her.

With nothing else to do, Kate swallowed the lump of peanuts. She could feel it move slowly down her throat, as she took another bite.

Her body felt sore when she woke up in the hospital. Her worst fear had become reality — the peanuts had caused painful boils all over her skin.

She tried to remember.

She had eaten the whole peanut bar, and the seniors had left her, choking, under the tree.

Then how did she get here?

Just then, a skinny boy walked in. He looked pale, but she wasn’t sure whether it was his natural complexion or just looking at her made him uncomfortable.

When he spoke though, he showed no sign of disgust.

“My sister and her friends are always doing stuff like this. I’m really sorry you had to endure this.”

Kate stared at the boy, not knowing how to react. That bully was this boy’s sister?

For some reason, she could empathize with the boy as much as he did with her.

She tried to speak, but could only manage a weak smile. Seeing her smile, the boy’s face lit up.

“I’m William.”

And thus began a new chapter.

Priorities

priorities

“Look, Mom!” The child pointed excitedly at the speeding car. “Mr. Bean!” Her face lit up at the sight of the green Ford. Her mother smiled mutely.

Her smile faded as she recognized the numbers on the plate; her birth date.

She remembered the day they registered the vehicle. It was her birthday – seven years ago. He had bought his first car and spent extra money on those particular numbers. She had been thrilled.

Now she just felt numb. He still had the car – but had easily abandoned her and their unborn child.