Feast: A 100 Word Story

“Is this place haunted?” she asked shaking in the northeasterly freezing wind as much as in fear.

“I hope not.”

“Do we have to go inside?”

“I guess so. We have to finish our job.”

They had been asked to procure an ancient globe from the library of this monolith, by their professor.

“Ahem! Let’s go inside,” she moved ahead finding the massive door, which she pushed. It opened without any difficulty as if it had been in use forever. By the eerie look of that place, it was surprising.

“Welcome you two! The feast is ready,” a voice boomed.

.

* For Friday Fictioneers. Unfortunately, I missed last week’s prompt.

Looking for an emerald…

Travelling between

the thin line of

reality and fantasy,

looking for an emerald

that resides in me,

.

I stumble through distant paths

get burnt by dragon’s tongues,

 I climb the mountains

to see no sun

but be struck by lightning

in search of something

that is nowhere

but inside me,

 .

I dwell in darkness

feast on my own dead skin,

split open my eyes,

looking for that island

where I think the stone is;

 .

fantasy becomes reality

when I last return home,

and find some drops

falling down my open eyes,

they glint with a distinct sheen,

and I realize,

they are the dear stones,

I was looking for,

in the realm of fantasy,

 .

all the time,

them being overlooked

by my heart,

but present

in my own reality.

*Written in response of dVerse Mirage/Fantasy prompt.

Sand Haiku

slipping away fast

its a temporary feast

grainy sands of time

~

scooping up some sand

each single grain stands apart

eyes squint against sun

* Written in reponse of Haiku Heights #262.

Takenoko/Bamboo Shoots Haiku

going up and up

reaching for eternity

rigid, tall and straight

.

evergreen bamboo

shoots cut down and thinly sliced

boiled, to feast upon

.

survival circles

displayed around the body

every few inches

.

ward off the evil

takenoko surrounding

lonely Shinto shrine

.

wet and slippery

showered in the morning rain

a bamboo-poet writes

.

a childish cutter

gash shining stalk of bamboo

emerge moon goddess

.

shedding those gold tears

watching in pain, her moon world

born from bamboo stalk

* Written for Carpe Diem # 217 Takenoko/Bamboo Shoots

* The last two haiku are derived from a Japanese folktale; The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. I came to know about it in a Japanese cartoon show once.