July 16-17: Patriot

Original photograph by @Mari_deSilva

From @Mari_deSilva:
“Do you love your country?” 
“Yes Sir!” 
“Would you do anything to protect it?” 
“Yes Sir!”
“Would you put it before everything else?”
“Yes Sir!”
“Would you sacrifice your life for it?”
“Yes Sir!”
“Would you sacrifice others’ lives for it?”
“.......Yes Sir?”

From Saumya Fernando:
“Haiyooo now of course the patriot will only be the ones licking their boots noh men”, Mrs. Bernard paused her sweeping to wipe sweat from her forehead. Mrs. Silva’s head bobbed over the wall. “Hmmm”, she coyly agreed. Mrs. Bernard continued, “This country’s going to the dogs and not a cat gives a rat’s arse”

From @shamsmakkiya:
"What if I write about myself? Am I eligible? No! What have I done?"

Linen-like curtains blurred my vision.

The more my brain looked for, the less I understood its significance.

All and sundry as an entity owes patriotism to the mother earth.

"Who is a patriot?"

My conscience never acknowledged its meaning.

From @wIkIfReAkz:
"I have always regarded myself, in the first place, as an African patriot."
--Nelson Mandela
(Today's his 95th birthday. This limerick is dedicated to dear Madiba)

Leader of South African Nation
Patriot, gives us inspiration
In Long Walk to Freedom
Mandela breathed seldom
For Freedom is his respiration!

From @PennyKinned:
Out there, he couldn’t remember the cause of his fervent patriotism. Had it been a belief that his country was somehow historically exceptional? Unique?

How delusional.

Gazing at blurry earth amidst countless stars, he made up his mind.

Thus it came to be that it was no national emblem but a plain white flag that claimed Jupiter.

From @wIkIfReAkz:
Thousands of patriots sacrificed lives, in the war of bringing back the Crown to the Nation.

A grand carnival was organized to celebrate the victory.

A duke was busy in reconstructing the infra-structure of an ancient city.


The point was: the chosen area was located in a treasure map -the very reason for the reconstruction.

July 15: Footsteps

From Priyanthie de Silva:
Footsteps in the sand, led me to the cave. Got a shock when I saw the contents. Dried bones & rags. What could have occurred here? Seems as though somebody lived in this deserted isle. I would like to know how he survived. Was he shipwrecked or was he abandoned here?

From theshadowseeker:
I fumble with the keys. The porch light is dim. My alcohol laced breath forms wisps of white as I breathe out deeply to steady my hands. The door creaks shut behind me.  As I make my way up the stairs, I hear them. One soft footfall after the next. I am not alone.

From @seniinthebox:
I waited.  
I listened,  
They came from behind but I did not turn, 
for they were not familiar. 
You had gone. 
But I was still waiting.  

From Saumya Fernando:
Without exaggeration Gold FM plays “Footsteps” at least twice a day, EVERYDAY. Without exaggeration, any time my mother decides to dedicate a song to a loved one on Gold FM she always picks “Footsteps”. Even though I laugh at her for her taste in music, I know I will miss it when I leave.

From @shamsmakkiya:
The motorbike revved at full speed.
Sirens went off from all four corners.
Yon stood an anorexic bod.
The cops pulled over and neared.
Followed the trails of footsteps.
Reached the farthest thicket.
To their bewilderment, his very marrow dripped out of his physique.

From @Mari_deSilva:
Daily he would watch his father abuse his mother...until one day he was able to back his father up against the wall, hands clasped around his neck, and threaten him never to touch her again. His father died alone and remorseful.

Always up for a ‘good drink’ - he said “I’m not like my father.”

From Mythify:
Her soles had been scraped raw by the pitiless desert sand. She struggled on, breath raggedy and uneven. Have to keep moving. Have to.

A few miles away, the tracker bent to examine the windswept footprints in the fading light. “This way,” he called to the others. Sheathing their knives, they set off in pursuit.

From @wIkIfReAkz:
Curious

Billy saw some strange traces on the sulphur surface. 'Footsteps?'

Far ahead he saw an undefined object.

It seemed nearer now.

"Shit! It might have spotted me," the very thought made his limbs icy.

He tried to run away, but felt crippled.

*


The last being remained on Mars was killed by Curiosity, the rover.

July 3-4: Wreckage

Original photograph by @Mari_deSilva

From @Mari_deSilva:It had to be here somewhere, she kept muttering to herself. Covered in dirt and soot, her clothes tattered, she relentlessly searched through the rubble of what once was her home. Finally she found it, eerily untouched by the destruction around it. There they stood smiling together – a happy family, as they should be.

From @rami_desh:The voices inside her head had been silent for a while. The taste of destruction had infected her tongue, cursed her very soul.

It was time to pick up the broken wreckage of her existence and awaken the voices once again.'

From @shamsmakkiya:No sooner the calamity took place, sorrow spreaded like the wild-fire.
The village at whole grieved over the bloodless lass.
The vicious lady, Mrs. Hagar, neither regretted nor admitted.
Patience tied the family with untiring prayers.
Years went by.....
Mrs. Hagar got afflicted by a life-threatening disease.
Divine punishment swept away the wreckage of flesh and bones.

From @wIkIfReAkz:Asylum
The well-packed trawler was heading towards Oceania..

The human luggages were dreaming of the fortunes that were only some 117 nautical miles away..

The monsoon sky seemed awfully gloomy just like their future..

*

TWO DAYS LATER:

The Oz navy spotted a suspicious object far off shore and found 68 migrants on the wreckage, dead.

From shanz@1971:Dreams come crashing down, marriages broken, families torn apart, all hope is gone,..all that is left is a wreckage...

From Capt Nihal de Silva:

In 1912 the world's most famous luxury liner "TITANIC" was launched and left on its' maiden voyage.and on the first night the invincible liner sank with over 1000 on board it took nearly 100 years to locate the "wreckage" ,but mysteriously no one  wanted to bring up the bodies and have a ceremonial proper burial.

June 30: Alone

From @cernoblog:

Are you the only one who feels that tyranny is the primal force tugging at the trajectory of politics? Does everyone around you think casting one's allegiance to a king every few years is democracy? Do your friends still pretend they live in one? Don't worry, with Chivas Regal, you are never alone.

From @Priyanthie de Silva:

I stood alone on the deserted beach,watching the sea gulls screeching overhead. What an ugly sound they made, for creatures so footloose & fancy free. Take the caged bird for example, they sang their hearts out, with such gay abandon! Nobody would know theirs was a cry of desperation.

From @Mari_deSilva:

It’s really not as bad as everyone perceives it to be, you know? Sometimes it’s all your heart craves for. The solace no other state of being can ever provide. I’m often warned that if I continue this way, I’d probably wind up alone one day. Sometimes I think that day can’t come soon enough.

From @shamsmakkiya:

Sisters' poisoned sister

Mrs. Hagar, a lady of fortune, desired the young man of characters for her daughter alone.

He declined her proposal.

Aggravated her anger.

She camouflaged it under her plotful grin.

Days later,

He bonded his dream-girl.

Mrs. Hagar threw them a grand feast.

His sister-in-law turned blue.

The poison consumed the budding soul.

From @wIkIfReAkz:

The echoing sound of ‘left-right-left’ is now over...

I'm sighing deeply, gazing at the empty parade-ground..

How paradoxical it's been:

feeling lonely, among routine bugles and a mass of worn-out berets and boots...

My first task will be fighting against anonymity..

*

Then I didn't know I would never identify the camouflaged soul of mine..

From @raisalw:

She sleeps in doorways.

Once she was a mother, but when she was done cooking, cleaning and raising them, they didn’t need her anymore.

So now she sleeps in shop fronts, alone. Except even those aren’t her friends- she has a scar from when one roller door shut on her face- a zip-line, measuring pain.

From Yasmin:

Growing up in a broken household had hardened her. She allowed no one inside her heart, because being alone was safest, she thought. But deep inside, she was lonely.

He loved her deeply; that much she knew, but it was unfair to expect him to understand her completely. He was, after all, only a boy.

June 26-27: Psychedelic

From @raisalw:
The moon pulsates in psychedelic hues. I am lying on a beach stranded in the middle of everywhere. The music amplifies. Cool air on my skin. How glorious to be alive, thanks to a spoonful of sugar.

One hit is enough.  

But what’s happening now? Strange hands, a wolf-smile and a single, whispered word.

“Lassanai”

From @shamsmakkiya:
Red, purple, white and pink corruscated the vine-covered trellis.

"Wow! Morning Glory," Tritos smiled psychedelically.

Tritos's parents sensed something odd in their innocent-looking son.

Tritos went on a field trip to the woods.

In search of the lawn-mower, mom went up to the attic.

"OH NO! My son can never be a doper." *Wept*

From @Mari_deSilva: 
He was the epitome of colour. His Code of Ethics enshrined it. His every breath, his every moment was wrapped in flamboyance. Everything he touched transformed into an instant work of art. No shade nor hue ever escaped him. Madiba truly lived every colour of the rainbow. I wonder who knew he was colour blind?

From @paviliciousk:
I stepped outside; into a crowd of people. Everyone was looking in the same direction. I peeped. It’s a Double rainbow. It had a psychedelic effect on all who saw it. Cars slowed down, people stood in the middle of the street snapping pictures; trying to ingrain this magic into their brain...

 ...or their phone.

From @wIkIfReAkz:
The Spa

Cathy gulped the crimson liquid. Gradually dozed off. Got her sanity jettisoned.

*BLANK*
*
EcstoSpa ensured the ecstatic feeling of OBE (Out-of-body experience) - detachment of the supracelestial body from the mass.
*
She opened her eyes.

Amidst the erroneous views of random psychedelic swirls, a blurry scene was slightly visible: a guy holding a handicam..

From @PennyKinned:
He was sulking in the attic when he found it: a string-tied packet of old photographs. Psychedelic clothes and carefree smiles. He thought of them now, his father’s shoulders bowed and his mother’s saris carefully reused till they fell apart. All for him, he knew. A single tear rolled down his still-downy cheek.

June 24: Resurrection

From @sharasekaram:
She turned around at him and smiled, her lips as red as blood against startlingly white teeth. He suppressed a shudder, unable to tear his gaze away from the perfectly sculpted face. It was inhumane in its perfection, it was unnatural. Guess that’s what happens when plastic surgeons resurrect what was left of you. 

From @raisalw:
She stepped up on the ledge, untwisting the knots in her hair. The ground seemed so far away. She hesitated, then remembered that sheet of paper. The one which told her she had failed- again. “It’s just one step,” she thought, “and then, perhaps, resurrection.”
At first, she was just a fleck of paper, falling. 

From @paviliciousk:
res-ur-rec-tion
1. the act of rising from the dead.
2. the rising of Christ after His death and burial.

I heard that Jesus was the first Zombie. 
The Son of God: ground zero of the Zombie apocalypse?
Religion as Science Fiction?
Or just Fiction?
Side note: World War Z should be renamed “Piles of Zombies.”

From @shamsmakkiya & @wIkIfReAkz:
Abel Vs Cain

Abel was gagged and abducted to the abandoned junkyard.
The blood was made to imbibe air emboli.
"Aaaarrrrghhh"
Pulse rate came to a sudden halt.
*
'Tick-tick.. Tick-tick'
The gem-studded Rolex alienated time from its owner.
Desires resurrected the centuries-old curse.
*
The DNA tests confirmed that the assassin was none but his confidant.

From Mythify:
She was confident enough in her new self, her new life, her new marriage to accept when he called and asked her to dinner. “It’s harmless,” she thought confidently. “I’ve moved past that, past him.” But a single caress resurrected her old self: eventually, she snorted the proffered coke and went back to his place.

From @Mari_deSilva:
A Christian, each year, I would gleefully await our family tradition of lighting Vesak lanterns outside. Impatiently, I’d count down the days to the neighbourhood Sinhala & Tamil New Year celebrations. The Independence Day Parade was a never-to-be-missed family date around the TV. Now, distorted and exploited, doubt it can ever be the same again...

June 13-14: Broken

Original photograph by @PaviliciousK

From @PaviliciousK:
Drip. Drip. Drip.

What in gods name is dripping from the ceiling??

Malli slowly reaches up- CRASH! BANG! DONG-PATAS-DONG!

Shit and piss from our upstairs neighbours trickles into our bathroom. I look at Malli spraying industrial-strength disinfectant and all i can see is the drip drip of my hard earned salary; down the shit pipes.

From @bhagsy:
I was left feeling empty as he slung words of cruelty on to me, accusing me of things I hadn't done. My world was shattering and funnily I could see the pieces falling. My knees gave way and I fell to the floor. There I lay, an empty and broken person.

From @Shi_dreams:
For two hours she lay on the bathroom floor, curled up into a ball, balling her eyes out, her heart broken. “How did she let the events of the last 24 hours happen?”

Suddenly there was a knock on her apartment door.

“Omg! They’ve come for me!” she thought in horror. “What do I do?!”

Original photograph by @Mari_deSilva

From @Mari_deSilva:
Listless, she walks the streets, a thatched bag under her arm. It holds newspaper cuttings carrying images of young boys held at detention centres; two of whom she’s identified as her sons.

“I know they are alive. 
Why can’t they just let me see my boys? 
I will not rest until then,” she cries.


From @dishilicious:
the promise i made 
to myself
that 
i will never 
shed a tear for you 
again
is 
the only promise
i had ever 
broken! 

From @shamsmakkiya:
A self-immolated spirit wails in vain.

I have blundered. Yes! I shouldn't have sacrificed myself for such a mere reason. I am broken *Wails*. I have been such a worst fanatic. This place is so dreadful. Will I ever be able to get my soul back to my worldly body!? Oh politicos, help me!

From Priyanthie de Silva:
I had never seen such a neglected garden or such a dilapidated house. Curiosity made me walk in through the broken gate, sure that it was abandoned.On nearing the front door, a soft moaning could be heard.I peeped in to see an old woman, wailing plaintively,  'my putha (son), my deiyo (God)."

From Gillian Nair:
You're a coward.

You spit out words of hate
With your raw cold heart

You breathe lies and swear them true.
You're the coward, not me.

I'm the forgotten
I'm the wasted
I'm the broken
I'm the damned.
I'm the fucked up. 
But you'll always be the coward,

Who couldn't fight back for me.

From @wIkIfReAkz:
What's Mine?

O' my beloved lass, thou once made a pledge:
'Shall come alongst with mate, towards southern edge
Neath the the moonlit woods beside the rivers'.
Hast broken thy promise; alas, my breast now shivers!
*
'Two killed in a landmine explosion in Kilinochchi,' says Army.

[Inspired by Bharati's 'Theertthak karaiyinile'.]

From Tristan Kube:

Original photograph by Tristan Kube

Like a lonely tree that grows branches for company - he had learnt to enjoy his own. He often conversed with himself - for within him exist many a man.

The mind was his mallet and all he needed was space to dream.

“HE’S LOST HIS MIND”, the guards said...

Only, such men ne’re broke.

From Mythify:
In the corner of the room, the unwashed, bedraggled prisoner mumbled to himself. He gazed vacantly at the door as it opened.

The agent took one look at the man who used to be the world’s foremost criminal mastermind and sighed in exasperation.

“You broke him,” she said accusingly to the warden. “He’s useless now.”

June 12: Addiction

Original photograph by T.K.

From T.K.:

The horse was fast. Or so he thought. It was not to be today. He was supposed to get some rations for home and milk for the kid. He wiggled into his trouser pockets and dug out a mashed up fifty.. his last note. It was enough for the bread.. but.. ‘twas his lucky note.

From @sharasekaram:

You are my addiction, my cocaine, my virtue and my vice. You run through my every breath, thought and dream. Without you I shrivel, I crave, I suffer. With you, I am invincible, unconquerable, untouchable. You drive me, you push me to be the best version of myself. You are my addiction.

From @bhagsy:

I was intoxicated by what we shared, sitting all day I would do nothing but think of him; drink in his features, his walk and his movements or sit gaze into those deep black eyes all day, knowing they saw right through me. I was addicted. Addicted to this man for all we had, and didn't.

From Mythify:

“I’m so totally addicted to you,” says the teenage girl, adoringly looking up at her lover, this older, married, fabulous man. A more discerning observer may have trembled at the menacing quality of his smile. This addiction would cost her dear – it would spell chains, basements, knives and, above all, pain. Mind-numbing, reality-bending pain.

From @shamsmakkiya:

A COMEUPPANCE.

Young children went missing frequently.
Later they were called juvenile delinquents.
None knew about the criminal behind their evil addictions.
One fine day, everything came to light.
The mob chased after him.
The paedophile was chopped to pieces.
Mob justice was implemented.

From Priyanthie de Silva:

It was by accident, that she found out her father's addiction. Her 'Dad' whom she adored, was a monster.

He returned home each evening, to  ' family-time'. On weekends, he would wheedle from her mother money to treat "the boys". She never objected. 

She heard her class-mates discuss the 'goody two shoes' whose father was a rake!

From @Mari_deSilva:

Longs talks looking out into the sea, faithful promises to “do the right thing”, self reflective emails, daily calls willing each other to “walk away...” But, nothing could keep them apart. They couldn’t get enough of each other. Junkies Forever they wanted tattooed on their fingers instead of rings. Wonder what became of them?

From @wIkIfReAKZ:

'Doosra'

"Doc, I've written a poem..

'My nicest scenery;

My softest melody;

My finest fragrance;

My sweetest flavour;

My highest ecstasy..

-Me!'

You like it..?"

He hugged the handcuffed 'him'.

 "No.. Don't.."

---

He smiled; dressed up and threw a flying kiss.

---

Dr.Aaron's addiction, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, backfired on him..

"I shouldn't have cloned myself.."

From Tristan Kube:

“I’m convinced now, that the one thing that can make an addiction go away is yet another”. He says pulling out a tiny photograph of his three year old daughter from his wallet. He’s been clean two years since his girlfriend OD’d. Now little Suzie’s his addiction; hence he calls her his Cocaine. Some disapprove.

June 11: Fragment

From @sharasekaram:
I clutch onto the fragment you hear that I still hold. I pray it is enough, and if I hold on tight enough that you will come back to me. That you will reach on and give me your whole heart – not just a sliver. For you, without a shadow of doubt –have mine.

From @shamsmakkiya:
DAY- 1 [23:00]
Dick Costolo receives a call.
"We have annihilated your highly secured domain to fragments"
"What!? Who are you?"
"US."

DAY- 2 [01:00]
Millions of users encountered network blackout.

DAY- 2 [06:00]
Breaking News: The CEO of the renowned social networking site, Twitter, passed away due to Sudden Cardiac Arrest.

Anonymous: We have reached a milestone.

From Priyanthie de Silva:
The light was failing, so I shut the book with a sigh. It was absorbing, the fragment of a young life, snuffed out prematurely. The tale related the bourgeoning interest of the protagonist, in the girl next door, little realizing that she was married. She led him on, the husband returned unexpectedly & caput all was ended!

From theshadowseeker:
Ten years had passed since she had seen him last. Their parting words nothing but hateful and harsh. Scattered around her, lay the melting shards of the hate they had built, broken now for the man who lay motionless. A mere fragment of the man she had known. And loved.

From Mythify:
He wore the aeons-old apple core on a string around his neck. Rotten, it was, with greyish mould and the occasional maggot crawling out of it. He loved it, though. It drove him to greater depths and new horrors. It was, after all, a fragment of the very first sin – his greatest victory yet.

From @PaviliciousK:
I peel off this skin. Puke away the bile. A sweat of memories drips down my face. 

Drops that linger on my eyelashes. But not for long. 

Pieces of my life, fragments of a broken life wash down the drain. 

That’s enough. The time has come. Step forward. 

New life.Wholeness. Rebirth.

I Rise. 

From @Mari_deSilva:
Who knew that one miniscule experience would determine the course of her heart for life? That her heart would never again love unconditionally, trust implicitly, give unrestrained or care selflessly. She never realised how much she lost along with her gain. How much she’d changed. What power she’d given that one missing fragment...what a shame.

From @wIkIfReAkz:
MMXIII AD

Alice woke up from her deep slumber.

"Where am I..?" she wondered. "Or is this also a fragment of the same dream?"

She wandered through the hallway.

All she could find were nothing but some weird machines and wired humans.

"Gosh.. This is the strangest!"

She saw a wall calendar read: 'June, 2013'

From @Pennykinned:
After he left, she kept wearing the wedding ring, prepared for a lifetime of loneliness and misery.

But there came a day when she outgrew this fragment of the past. It was time to take the ring off, leave her hand bare to grasp new possibilities.

Even the most broken hearts do heal, eventually.

June 10: Dream

Original artwork by Tristan Kube

From Tristan Kube:
Pry open my mind and you will find, mildew on every corner and on many a sides: dreams collecting dust and thoughts gathering rust.. And somewhere in another corner the hopeful words - “one day I shall; when the time is right”. 

If time be the mother of thieves, procrastination is the killer of dreams.

From @sharasekaram:
Living your dream is like free falling. It’s a dizzying rush, your feel drunk on power – you are defying the elements. “But WAIT!” logic screams, “Where is your safety net? What happens when you crash?” Simple. Your passion, dedication, talent and single minded belief in your ability will weave one for you along the way.

From @Mari_deSilva:
I wake up in tears. They’ve killed you! How many times I’ve begged you to be careful? To watch what you say in public? You never listened. 

“What should I do? Shut up and do nothing?” was your usual retort. 

I never had a good response. But, I do now. 

“Nobody’s invincible. Not even you.” 

From Shanz:
Thought we could make a life together, so many plans for our future. It felt so right.  You were mine and I was yours.  Looking at life through rose coloured glasses, seeing green pastures running around wild and free, until with a jolt I was suddenly woken only to find it was a dream.

From @wIkIfReAkz:
Surveillance
The revelation created a stir across the world: “The Government intercepts every inter-personal communication, on national security concerns..”
¤
Meanwhile another experiment was underway. This time, to overrule the intra-personal communications.

“A device will be fixed in every household. It will control the neural-waves of the citizens, evoking only a set of patriotic dreams..”

From Mythify:
“It can’t be,” he stammered, “You were in my dream. How can you be in the real world? This isn’t happening. You don’t exist.”

The fanged creature chuckled lazily, “You humans. Thinking of dreams as separate from the real world. Dreams are real. You dreamed me into existence. And now, you will pay the price.”

From Twitty:
Dream, dream, dream when I want you, when I need you, all I have to do is dream…… Anytime, everyday, you can be mine, anytime of the day.  But gee whiz I am dreaming my life a way.

From @shamsmakkiya:
A Human vs. Animals
Every single grain of sand blended in his sweat.
The teary bricks pronounced his name agelessly.
The rocks found in their thoracic cavities lacked dampness.
He never recognized their artful and deceitful blood.
His dreams faded along with his breath.
Patience and perseverance was all that he built for himself.

From @PennyKinned:
She woke up with a start, crying out. “It was a dream, it was a dream, it was a dream,” she recited, trying to calm herself. But it isn’t quite so easy to dissipate the monsters when you wake up in the middle of the night, alone, is it? She lay awake all night. Again.

June 6: Create & Destroy

From @sharasekaram:
My love can create what you wish to be. It will inspire you to reach heights you never thought were possible, to touch the stars, conquer the skies. My love can also destroy you. Make who you are, and who you thought you would be vanish – like a puff of smoke. Like you never existed. 

From @shammakkiya:
SCENE I
Yafeu, a wannabe writer reads a novel by Isaac Asimov.
Dozes off.

SCENE II
Yafeu, hears blade slaps. *Whoop*
A chopper lands.
Transparent men disembark.
The sky splits open.
Descends an escalator.
Ascends the men.

SCENE III
Yafau writes based on Creation Science.
Destroys Atheism.

SCENE IV
Yafeu secures the prestigious Hugo Awards.

Original photograph by @Mari_deSilva

From @Mari_deSilva:
To create and destroy – what an absolute power to possess. Often I wonder why you won’t just end it and be done with it. Why painstakingly wait and watch whilst we slowly, brutally do it ourselves? Are you a sadist, or just an indomitable dreamer, hoping against hope that we’ll find our way back home?


From @rami_desh:
'Congratulations on the birth of your new child! Within those hands are the power to create or destroy the world, please handle with care.'

From @gehan99:
"She was an artist, a poet, a maestro. Not in any ordinary sense of the world; she was by no means anything short of extraordinary.

For her canvas was my heart, and her tongue her brush from which she painted masterpieces of love or hate.

And in the end, I was both created and destroyed."

From @capt_sparkly:
Take me apart, she said, one pin at a time, like you would a paper doll. Unfold me, spread me across your knees; iron out the creases with your thumb.

Blot the ink that marks my face. Break me down again and again, till we both forget exactly how to put me together again.

From Priyanthie de Silva:
I have been told how ones words have the power to create & destroy. As the saying goes, 'the tongue is only six inches long, but has the ability to bring down a six foot man!' Our teachers, who humiliated us in the presence of our peers, during our impressionable years did not know better.

From theshadowseeker:
It did not take much to create me. Alcohol, raging hormones and sex that neither can remember. Since that moment of creation, destined to one end- destruction. There is more I insist. That which cannot be created nor destroyed. That I am simultaneously only the path and the vessel for. Eternal force- Life. 

From @wikifreakz:
Tomorrow we created the masterpiece of our time!
ChronoWagon™: the first ever time-machine of human history.

Now we can travel through the past and correct the errors made in 21st century.
*
Synchronizing..
Take off.
*VRROOOOOM*
*
MOSCOW | Fri June 07, 2013 (Reuters)
'An unspecified flying object found over Georgia was destroyed last night,' says Kremlin aide.

June 3: War & Peace

Original photo by @Mari_deSilva

From @Mari_deSilva:
Travelling up to Jaffna for the first time after the war in 2010, I couldn’t help but notice the charred, head-less Palmyrah trees that lined either side of the A9. They just stood there – broken. The sole witnesses of the bloody…the brutal. The blackened remnants of a Victor's peace.

Original photo by Tristan Kube

From Tristan Kube:
Doves flying in the aftermath of war, betwixt the setting sun and the early dark, giving resonance to ancient wars and the never-ending battles fought – to be won and lost.

In my pensive state a hesitant thought sprang aloud; “one day would the end be brought about by a blinding light and a mushroom cloud?”

From mongrel:
"Let's flip a coin on it"

The brothers were to go their seperate ways. Their blood coursed in opposite directions. One felt closer to their motherland; the other like father like son. In one hand, a ticket for the Ruhunu Kumari and a ticket for the Yaal Devi.

"I call heads"

In the other hand - each other.

From theshadowseeker:
I shot him and he died. I was the only one left protecting the fort. I couldn't see where my comrades were hiding. Weapon ready, I advanced. 

"Ah! Watch where you are going child!"

"Come and have tea boys". 

My dead victim stuck his tongue out at me and reached for a biscuit.  

From @shamsmakkiya:
The constant war waged against her inner self drained her blooming energy.
External pressures nagged her feeble life.
None bothered to understand her likes and dislikes.
Her concrete attitude was all that brought her peace of mind.
Ultimately, she harnessed herself to face every adversity with complete resoluteness.

From @wikifreakz:
'Shehzad weds Tehreem'
The wedding ceremony was underway in a joyous spirit.

'May peace and prosperity be with you two,' the elderly Hakim wished the duo in Pashto.
The moment the 'Aina mosaf' ritual started, something blasted.
Everything went blank.
¤
'At least fifteen suspected Al-Qaeda militants killed in rocket strikes in South Waziristan,' reported CNN.

From @PennyKinned:
“It’s confirmed, ma’am. He’s contacted all the key operatives. He’s the mastermind!”

“Excellent.”

“Should we arrest him?”

“So he can keep pulling the strings from his jail cell for years to come? No. Think up a story, finish him off.”

“But ma’am--”

“Do it, agent. The price of peace is this secret, dirty war.”

June 1-2: Black & White

From @sharasekaram:
Black and white. Ebony and ivory. Cream and ash. Him and her. You and me. This is the story of how opposites attract. How two people from two completely different worlds, find themselves bound together by that one force – love. Love can make two worlds collide, but does that also mean destruction is imminent? 

From @BatmanEarth12:
I am supposed to see blue and gold halos, but the only thing I am seeing now are black & white lines like the kind you find behind packets of Oreo.

Even acid cant quench my emptiness. 

Why do I want to be normal? Is it because the other angels are calling me an abomination?

Its not my fault that I am a Nephilim. 

From @gillian.nair:
You're  sad and insignificant 
You're lonely and fragile
You're broken and withdrawn
You're unforgiving
You're black. The darkest colour of your heart.
You're lonely dark soul.
You're alone and  fucked up.
You're not 50 shades of grey
You're white and pure.
Honest and content.
You're mine.

From @AntonyCF:
This world is not black and white my child - a dying father.
He saw both black and white in her eyes - looking at his daughters eyes
Black and White, opposite polars of the same line! Just like you and me - two brothers
Once white, now black, evil times are upon us - said the tribes chief

From @shamsmakkiya:
The two thick friends,
Known as bridge jumpers,
Wagered a fortune.
Headed for the millionaire's row.
Sat majestically.
The flag dropped.
Their eyes were fixed on the black and white.
Tension rised.
Ended in a dead heat.
No!
Deemed the photo finish.
The black captured the win.
Anger emanated.
Money does break the fragile bonds.

From Saumya Fernando:
She sat down with her steaming coffee and relaxed her painful right leg on the stool nearby balancing the album on her lap. Taking a deep breath while opening it with her shaky hand, she read; Our Wedding. Her favourite black and white photograph. If only life had been as simple and clear as this.

From theshadowseeker:
Sun tanned skin covered partially by the white shirt and white flowing trousers. His black hair whisked up by the sea breeze as he walks barefoot, feet sinking into the sand. I dip into the pools of black within white that are his eyes. Explosions of colour within me, warm wet and undeniable.

From kahlusudda:
white teeth / yellow teeth / coffee stains / nicotine // white paper / brown paper / cellotape / book covers // yellow weather / brown leather / red floor / white socks // blue shorts / black socks / purple bruise / orange juice // blu-tack / white cap / red hat / black cat // straw hat / thatched roof / thunder bucket // under kitchen / table sink // black hole / white eyes // black whole / white eyes 

From @wikifreakz:
The king was diagnosed with a brain tumour.
*
A prophecy claimed that a talisman buried under an ancient reservoir would bring him longevity.

Several black magic rituals were performed. Billions spent on excavations.

Meanwhile the rebels criticized 'It's just another white elephant'.
*
Months later..
Something miraculous happened.
The tests confirmed:
'HE hasn't got ANY!'

From @ Mari_deSilva: 
On again, off again, they never fully got each other out of their systems. Now with different partners, they were good friends, comfortable and sincere. After a few drinks, he just wanted to hold her hand...ruffle her hair - nothing more. As his partner looked on from afar, she shifted uneasily, but didn't pull away.

From @PennyKinned:
Sunday morning is all about those black-and-white sheets.

Sitting on the porch with a pile of unread newspapers from the week, sipping hot masala chai. Reading in companionable silence. Rustle-rustle-rustle. Occasionally swapping stories. “Listen to this…” Cutting out adverts and articles for family and friends. Snip-snip.


It’s perfection. So…no news app for me, thanks.

May 30: Letter

Original photograph by Tristan Kube

From Tristan Kube:
The ink that helped you write that letter, blotted out my sky forever.
Am I just a semblance of myself now, as much a lover as I'm a misanthrope?
It’s been twelve years and counting and I still write you these letters that are fated never to leave the clandestine confines of a tin-box.

From Priyanthie de Silva:
My daughter promised to write , when she left home. I did not hear from her, until a month later when I watched the TV program of an attack on a group of Peace Corp workers in Angola. There were no survivors. My daughter did not even send a letter, to understand the reason why.

From @Shi_dreams:
With her legs dangling on the low wall by her gate, six year old Kree sat waiting anxiously for the postman to arrive. He would come bearing her first letter from her first pen pal. The tinkle of his bell sounded as he rounded the corner. Eyes shining with anticipation, she jumped off the wall.

From @shamsmakkiya:
21-11-1988
A ransom letter arrived.
He ignored.

22-11-1988
It was a moonless night.
The clock struck 11.
The main switch was shut off.
Armed men surrounded the entire place.
The family members were lined-up outside.
Seconds elapsed.
Nothing left but the immovable possessions.
Silent cries left unheard.

18-05-2009
Three decades is too long for justice!

From @sharasekaram:
It was a week later when the police gave her the letter that had been clutched in his hand, when the car had hit him. And along with it, the police officer would explain, hidden deep in his pocket - was a beautiful diamond ring, with their names engraved on the inside.

From @gillian.nair:
I dolled myself up for him.i had to look like the same girl he fell in love with and wanted to marry. I read his very first letter over and over again. He promised he'll always be mine to have and to hold. I was alone now as he lay in a casket.

From Broken:
She was washing out the curry-stained frying pan, humming a recent Bollywood song, when the bell rang. She wiped her hands dry on her sari and opened the door.

Two men in military uniform stood at the doorstep, their expressions grave. As one of them held out an official-looking letter letter, the other one began to speak: “Mrs. Shankar, we are very sorry to inform you…”

From @AntontCF:
“to the letter you will follow, you hear me?” he was screaming at the top of his lungs, how could she not hear. What crime did she commit, she was young, naďve maybe, but she had every right to chose her man, but to his wrongly place pride, it would hinder everything, spell only The End.

From @Mari_deSilva:
She couldn’t get herself to open it. Maybe it was best not to know. Deep inside she knew he was never hers to keep. Forty years later at her death-bed, her nephew found a paper clutched in her hands - her face in a gentle smile. It read “marry me Lizzie. It’s always been you.”

From PennyKinned:
At first, the symbols were meaningless squiggles to her, fragments of a secret code. The children giggled – a grown woman who couldn’t read! She wanted to run away, but this was too important.

When she finally cracked it, A to Z, it was like being born again. Finally, she could read her son’s newspaper articles.

From @wikifreakz:
31.05.2125

Dear Sir/Madam,

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

The bearer, Amigobot, Version 2.0, has been my buddy-bot since 01.02.2122. He has a proven track record and healed my depression during numerous occasions.

I have no hesitation in recommending him as the best buddy robot.

Yours truly
*signature*

Ivanchev Cuttinsky