Skip to main content

She fell flat on her rear #100words #Drabbleweek

Anu never liked children. So, before the couple moved into their new home, she had made discreet inquiries to make sure there weren’t any families with little children.

That afternoon, Anu ventured out to the nearby nursery to pick some of her favourite saplings.   

She remembered walking brusquely and then falling flat on her rear. Annoyed and embarrassed Anu quickly rose to stare into a twinkling pair of eyes.

The brute had his mouth full of a freshly peeled banana.

 “Solly..” he babbled endearingly with a contrite look. “Aunty hurt?”


“Why am I not angry?” wondered Anu, her heart melting.


http://bit.ly/NRBH5m

Word count: 100

Written in response to the day 1 prompt " She fell flat on her rear" at the Drabble week for marathon bloggers.


Comments

  1. Little child's innocent query has the opposite effect on her :)
    Nice one, Uma :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. My heart melted too, reading this :)
    So well portrayed Uma .. I could see it all play in front of my eyes.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thanks so much, Aarthy. I'm happy to hear to say this :-)

      Delete
  3. Brought such a smile to my face Uma :). Lovely one!

    ReplyDelete
  4. This is sooo cute! I love the picture you've chosen to go with the prompt! :D

    ReplyDelete
  5. Wow you made the story a delight in so few words!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I'm honoured to hear you say this, Kp sir! :-)

      Delete
  6. Awwww this so sweet. And I can so identify with Anu. I too am a late convert... Only after I had kids did I start liking them.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Sweet! That's what kids do at best :) Charm!

    ReplyDelete
  8. hahaha STORY OF MY LIFE!! I pretend to not like kids.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Would love to hear from you :-)
Also, please click the subscribe by Email link below the comment form to get follow-up comments to your inbox..

Popular posts from this blog

Awaiting colours of change

It's the morning rush hour. In between flipping the dosa on the steaming pan, I scurry towards the bathroom door, impatiently asking R to hurry up and finish his bath. I scamper back to the kitchen to finish packing the lunch boxes, feeling the pressure of the husband's temporary absence which would have otherwise let me concentrate on just one part of the early-hour circus at home.

"Amma, I'm done. Please get the towel," screamed R into the empty room. Finally, I mutter and stride back to help him get dressed for school. My hands work quickly in tandem, patting him dry and squeezing the moisturizer into my palms when I notice R's. They have a flaky white colour to them, the one that comes with the skin being in contact with excessive foam and water. I apply a generous dose of the creamy lotion over them as I gently rebuke R for using so much soap.

"But, I want my skin to be light. I like light skin not dark" he quips, in almost a matter-of-fact to…

Rotting humanity

Doc, there's an emergency!

The breaking news flashes the brutal carnage. Images and voices float in my mind as I drive in manic speed to the hospital.

Of sirens blazing. Of toys and limbs lying scattered on a carpet of red and brown.

Oxygen! I scream. Pump, harder.

Doc, there's no pulse.

Shoulders slump.

I witness grief fuse into flames that rise up collectively at the mass funeral. The ashes fall lightly on me.

Will the stench of hate ever recede?

*** Written for a prompt at

The wedding

Holding hands under the inky blue bejeweled canopy, they swore allegiance to each other. Bedecked in a brown shimmery, the translucent veil flowing away from her coy face, she looked up nervously at him. He replied with an imperceptible nod that spoke volumes of quiet reassurance.

Family and friends had gathered for the ceremony that would bind the two lovers for life. The atmosphere was electrifying and the air abuzz with each of them signaling to the other in a frenzy of activity. A huddle in here, a huddle there, some grouping for a light tete-a-tete, some to discuss an important ritual.

The younger lot broke away from the crowd, not entirely connecting with the significance of the gathering, their individual frames dotting the arena like lost stars.

At the precise moment that would signify the sacred union, the chief called for everyone's unwavering attention. The scattered swarm, even the ones that had strayed, converged obediently towards the altar. Each member of the audie…