Down the road she went…

down the road she went

with a letter in her hand,

summoning the post master,

she told him of her predicament-

he who was gone to war

had not returned back,

what had appeared was a sheet

smeared with a blood like seal,

she who could not read a single word

plead before the kind gentleman

to tell her what it contained,

 ~

the bespectacled man read carefully

and told her, her son was well,

that was what the letter said

while he faced away from her,

he handed back to her the sheet

and confirmed that her son was fine,

he had reached his final abode,

away, safe from war and hunger,

 ~

she shrieks, cries, wails, screams,

clutching the collar of his shirt,

and befell on her knees,

praying for who was never to return,

he supported her up and

they looked at each other,

waiting for the other one to

break that ominous silence

but it remained all still

while the sun dipped into the sea,

leaving behind a trace of red tinge.

Painting: A 100 Word Story

“Attention!”

Bright sunlight pierced his eyes as he stepped into the fine painting and heard a loud baritone, “Attention!”

He looked around to find out the place of origin of the deep voice. But there was nobody around nearby, except for a guard standing alert with a rifle facing upwards, held in his palms; his face impassive, devoid of any emotions and his dark eyes sparkling.

There were people at a distance but he was sure nobody could see him and the still life beside him.

“What are you looking at?” spoke someone from behind.

He returned back to the reality.

copyright –Managua Gunn

*Written in response of the Friday Fictioneers Writing Prompt.

Taue (Rice Planting) Haiku

reflecting shadows

puddles of water on fields

workers in sedge hats

~

fields filled with water

men descends to place seedlings

gilded performers

~

women in kasa

traditional performance

the paddies planted

~

bow down in prayer

planting the mother earth’s womb

promising fine crops

~

young girls singing songs

hoping for a good harvest

time for festival

~

aura of dances

enhanced crop’s vitality

melodies in air

* Written in response of Carpe Diem # 220

May be the future isn’t so bright for me…

May be the future isn’t so bright for me

May be I won’t always be free

But at least I won’t be as trapped as I am now

I know no one, not even I myself can make such a vow

But I got to have some faith in something

May be my decision won’t solve everything

But I got to believe, I got to have some hope

I need to stay clinging to some rope

May be the future isn’t so bright for me

But I can hope it is a far better tree

than the one upon which I sit today

Maybe I will find the lighting ray

One which will make it all fine for me

Even if I won’t always be free.