Wordplay: The Reading Spot

"A wounded animal will bite and claw." -Mimi Matthews I'm running as fast as I can. All I know about where I'm headed is that it's far from here; far away from that house. Far from those four walls of suffocating hell, far from those dreadful needles and the shimmering acids that followed... And certainly far from him. It's easy to lose track of time when you're kept in a square cell, far into the woods, cut off from the rest of the townsfolk and the diurnal village affairs. I wondered if my friend Polly was looking for me, determined to set me free. She probably was, given that I'd do the same for her. My freedom, or what minuscule tinge was left of it, never exceeded the dining hall of that house. He'd kept me locked in that room, with a bucket, a pale excuse of a mattress, a lantern and not a window in sight. It was easy to forget humans even existed, until he would occasionally break in with bland and tasteless meals. He spoke harshly and coldl...

S.O.S. *** Claire is seated outside the manager's room, flipping through the pages of 'The Daily Affairs'. She's already read the day's edition, but having nothing particularly better to do, she decided to give it a re-read. She's not much of a 'politics' enthusiast, nor is she into 'sports'. The national and international affairs are the only sections that catch her eye. Now, the newspaper isn't a 'happy' read, so Claire wasn't expecting it to be all rainbows or sunshine. Still, she felt the shivers caress her as she read the increasing number of med. student suicides; most of them occuring due to research failures. She has always considered herself to be among the lucky ones, since she, once upon a time, wished to enter the research field herself. Luckily, just one month into it, she'd decided it was too much, and too unbalanced, for her liking. Thus, each new 'research failure' added more fear into her mind, because...

To love like a psycho... I guess we're crying now, the sky and I. I let my own tears fall onto the ground, as the heavens drench the whole world in theirs. I do no such thing, however, for I dwell in my despair alone. I haven't told anyone yet; but the sky does the opposite, every time. How desperate! It hopes for the world to share its sorrows, and attempts to do so forcibly, almost. Its tears cascade onto the faces below, regardless of whether they smile or frown. They drench a grieving man such as myself, so it would be far too ambitious for me to expect empathy from them. I used to love the rain; it used to be my happy place. I could dance in it all day, not having a care in the world. I used to think of it as me helping the skies forget their sadness. But when I cried, the sky only cried harder. I used to think it was because the sky felt remorse for having to see a friend feel so low, but I've come to doubt that view. Maybe its because the sky wanted the world to see ...

Hello Reader...here's a story 1. The Shoemaker  In a small town, one shoemaker was walking back home to his little hut on the outskirts of the area. It had been a long, sad day, for the shoemaker had received just a handful of customers, barely making him enough to buy some breadsticks the next day. Tired, he trudged back home, freshened up, and starting pouring out his soup, which was the only supper he could afford.  It was twelve minutes past midnight; normally, the very thought of staying awake would be enough for the person to bail on the idea, but not this man. After years of staying alone and being up till late at night, nothing fazed the shoemaker anymore. Not the sleep, and nor did the rumours about the monsters that lurked at night. According to the rumours, there was once a trader who was denied refuge due to his appearance during his short visit to the town. He died of starvation in the woods, and now his ghost would return to haunt the town.  It's been two ye...

Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop... I was heading home from work that evening, tired and worn out. It had been a rough day at work, and I still had to get the weekly groceries.                                                                 "Milk, biscuits, a few vegetables...", I repeated the list to myself to ensure I wouldn't forget it. It was quite difficult, considering the fact that it was quite foggy and the road wasn't clearly visible. Luckily, for me, I had driven these roads for seven years now, so I knew them like the back of my hand.  Fog wouldn't engulf our small town till at least, late November, usually. It was a little surprising to see it this early in October, but it didn't affect me, for I knew the way.  My head started to blank out. I was just too exhausted. I fought the sleep in my eyes and pres...

  It was my first day at Bayview High. The whole middle school period felt like forever to me, and honestly, I had been looking forward to high school...it felt like a whole different league. Bayview High was a totally different place. It was humongous, and I knew it'd take me long to memorize a mental-map of the place. While going through these thoughts, I heard a quaint voice say from behind me, "Hey, you new here? I'm Josh, nice to meet you!" I turned back to acknowledge this, and was greeted by an average heighted kid, about 5 foot-two. He had blondish hair, and had grey eyes. He smiled and nodded, indicating me to introduce myself. "Um, hey. I'm David...Do you mind showing me where exactly my class is?" "Sure! Follow me!!", he said. I noticed a little too much joy in his voice, but I ignored it and followed him into the premises. Just two turns here and there, and I was already confused. There were at least ten different corridors, and fiv...

  Pick your scream.... "That was a really tough fight you put up, teddy bear.", Rob said, a grin on his face.  "Nobody can beat me though....you did try your best." Rob, Mark and Benjamin were cousins, staying over at Rob's place for a night out. All three of them loved to play carrom, the custom game-mode "Money" specifically. Rob and his dad practiced carrom almost every weekend, so he was quite good at the game. Mark and Benjamin on the other hand, were struggling to get each shot in. Hence, Rob didn't have to sweat to get them out. "Mark, don't feel bad...this guy plays everyday...we still got far..." Benjamin said consolingly. Mark acknowledged this, and cheered up a bit. "Rob, now that we're done with a game of your choice and dinner of Benjamin's choice, can we at least have dessert of my choice?" Rob and Benjamin said together, "Sure, but it has to be ice-cream."                              ...

He's gaping, and he's waiting.... In the little neighborhood of Griffin Street, the children are told not to go out of their house after 6pm.  It is because of the local folklore about a stranger, a power or a creature. It is an unwelcome entity. It is said that the creature has a liking for kids. Their tender skin, their innocent souls and confused self's are what lure the creature to consume them. According to the stories so told, the creature eats their bodies and fuses their souls into him, making him stronger. There haven't been any recorded sightings of the creature.  Mainly because no adults have seen the creature, and no kids have survived to tell the tale. However, the attacks of the creature haven't been recorded in the past two years, since the curfew 6pm was made mandatory. Children didn't listen at first, but they soon obliged, as they started to notice some of their dear friends missing. Their bodies were never found, just few drops of their innoce...

They're calling you.... A Jog Through The Woods I put on my shoes, got out of the house Any later I wouldn’t move Closed the door and saw the scurrying mouse Scuttling over to the woods. I made my way into the coverts Went past through the fog I was busy that rainy night But just had time for a jog. I ventured deeper through the woods, Would have run if I could When I heard a quaint voice call, “Turn back, you really should.” I stopped jogging, turned around But, saw no one at all All these days when I’d ever jogged I’d never heard a call. I was in two minds whether to continue Or to go back home Had a lot of work to do  So, I turned back for home. Heard lotta voices on the way, They echoed off the logs of wood Whose cries they were, I still don't know, I’d heard on my jog through the woods.

A painting couldn't mean much, right? I was sure that there was a painting on the wall. I was sure of it. Even though my parents ignored me, or looked away whenever I spoke of it, I knew that there was a painting on the wall. I even remember that it had a dark green contrast. On this green painted canvas, there were sketches of three women with curly boy-cuts. They were so real, sometimes I'd find myself staring blankly at them. Sometimes these women scared me. They looked kind of eerie. This painting, of whose existence I was so sure of, used to hang on a wall of this corridor in our old apartment. I had nightmares about the painting and often woke up from my sleep. But my parents were never there to console me. I remember it so clearly, yet my parents walk away when I mention it. My parents don't usually talk to me, though they say my name out loud sometimes and then cry about what a disappointment I am. They wouldn't give me anything to eat, so I used to sn...

Tick-tock, tick-tok....    Finally, it was the last exam of third grade: Computer. I was all prepared, and wasn't really nervous. It was my favorite, and I was the boy who used to get the highest marks. Uncle had also given me an extra job....I had to deliver a parcel to the invigilation teacher. I had no idea how my uncle knew her already, but, I did as I was told. And I was pretty successful, too. Uncle told me to stay cautious, and not to look too predictable, or suspicious. That was weird, but he only meant well, I knew that. The parcel was light, but a bit heavy at the same time. He told me to keep it away from any hot or heat-creating source. This is only for the safety of not damaging the parcel, I thought. So I walked down the hallway to the exam hall. Unfortunately, I was late, so the parcel would have to wait a while. So, I decided to give it when I'd get the question paper. A few minutes later, the teacher came to my bench, and passed the papers....they were HARD...

Curiosity kills the cat.... Marty was a normal teenager with a not so normal family. His mom was a housewife, while his father was a scientist. Neither of his parents were successful in life. They were just living off the money earnt by their parents. But in Marty’s eyes, they were successful people. The father, Hardy, was working on a top secret project. It was situated in the attic. No one except him was allowed to enter the attic, for he was afraid that someone might mess something. However, Marty was one of those typical curious kids who, when thought of something, there was no stopping them. He planned to find out what mysterious, peculiar project his father had been working on. Obviously, he didn’t think of the consequences that would follow. That night, when his father was out on a business trip(vacation), he decided to have a small glance at the article. He slipped out the door, and into the darkness of the stairway leading up to the attic. He couldn’t stand the suspen...