Tag: short story

Newsflash

snow

“It’s the biggest snow storm of the century.”

Rebecca sighed, switching off the television. It wasn’t new. The news hadn’t changed from last year. Or the year before.

Ever since she moved to Alaska, winters grew snowier every year. And every time, the state spent millions in damage control.

Now even at the slightest hint of snow, everyone felt the need to rush to the store. People expected to be caved in at their homes. Rebecca joined the thronging queue wondering if she’d get her favourite cereal.

At the parliament, a politician looked out the window wondering, “What climate change?”

Wordplay

“I’m going to Marathon.”

She exhaled. Mark never respected proper spelling and punctuation. And now, he wanted to run a marathon with the upper body strength of a rat. She snorted, cast her phone aside, and picked up her fork again. He wasn’t worth her time or her appetite.

Back in high school, Mark had taken up cross-country biking with zero practice. His parents were too rich to douse his sudden flashes of passion. This time, he had taken it too far.

“Sure.” she texted back. “Hope you can run 42 kilometres.”

He replied: “:) I’m going to Marathon, the Greek city.”

Clueless

I gawked at the short, muscly woman walking through the massive doors. She wore beige pants and a loose blue blouse, with tomboyish, straight black hair sitting snug on her head.

She avoided the artists, wandering alone breezing through people and portraits alike.

Soon she found a chair in a corner to people watch. She seemed incapable of appreciating art and I wondered why she stayed. Yet she lingered, unperturbed as the clock ticked closer to judgement. When it did, I stood, gulped and turned to the stage.

She was the judge; the renowned artist I had dreamt of meeting.

Need for Change

bench

“But everything would change the moment you say ‘I do,’” Becky pleaded with her sister. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Belinda turned away from the mirror she had been admiring, to face her sister. She was tired, tired of waiting for the dust to settle down, tired of waiting for the one person who’d show her happiness again. Because despite fantasising much, Belinda knew she’d never be happy while she clung to her past, wallowing alone in the hallow house that her teenage daughter had hung herself in.

Belinda needed out, and Richard had a shiny green card.