Strangers in the Night
This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 31; the thirty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'Strangers in the Night'.
Its a set of seven 55 word fiction written in true spirit of blog-a-hon. Hope you will like it.
They were best of the couples in town, wearing tallest of affection, bond and love throughout. Always by each other’s side they were like sun with light, flower with bloom. No occasion was complete without them. The love that’s so inseparable in the day turns its face in dark. They become strangers in the night.
He threw a glance over her body soaked in sweat and helplessness. His conscience took a wild flight and soon he was all over her. Slowly teasing, maneuvering and making her plead in pleasure. Her eyes glistened as she moved her hand behind him. She didn’t stop stabbing till his breaths disappeared from her skin.
Her eyes were fixed on the window. She once looked at herself and next at the clock. When the world takes rest, she became restless, awake, praying it to dawn at earliest. She splashed water several times over her but still couldn’t douse the fire that those strangers in the night burnt her house with.
(Post Gujarat Riots)
He walked ahead furtively, reached to her and held her wet palms in his hands. She stopped in shock and turned at him. A look and she gave her doubts to rest. He walked her through the road and help board the bus. She blessed the unknown young man who helped her cross the road.
She marched ahead but the footsteps followed. A harsh smell of liquor and smoke burnt her ears. Holding her daughter’s hands, she began to run. He stopped her mid way and grabbed her hands. Take the money and let us go, she pleaded. He placed a key. “You dropped it near the gate no 9.
VIHer sobs fade away in the creaks of night. She pleaded mercy but they laughed. Their hands leashed ahead and robbed her off dignity. She was alone and could not fight the mob. With broken faith she cried for help. They said her morality was low because she wore jeans. That day a nation died
(Assam Molestation Case)
The train halted at Vashi station. He quickly stepped down and his eyes went looking around for a familiar face near female compartment. She didn’t come today. Dejected as he turned back to leave, she called him- Hi, I often see you here but we never spoke to each other, I am Isha. And you?