Friday, August 10, 2012

Theme 119 - Consequences

From @TheScotchGirl: She hid all her bare essentials in a small bag. She had only around 1000 INR collected over 6 months now. No jewellery, no assets, nothing. Zilch was her entitlement. He left for Delhi as planned. This was it. No more cringing at his touch. No matter what the consequences, she was leaving her father.

From @swordfish19: He had just undergone an intense chemo session. He felt nauseous. His hair was coming off in clumps.  Even a simple act like going to the bathroom left him drained. How did he get here? It was that day in college when he took his first drag. The rest just followed.  Like a Domino effect.

From @roshd: There are always consequences to bear. Commitment to friends not honoured- loss of face. Targets not met in office- threat of job loss. Wife not taken care of (her point of view, of course!)- live on ice. But there are no consequences to being a corrupt politician. Nobody will take away your ill-gotten wealth.

From @PeaceOVent: Zenia was a wild child. She lived in the moment. Did what she wanted, who she wanted.  The drugs, the endless parties, the faces. The many faces. It was all a thrill. Then the stick turned blue. She was late. Karma caught up.

From @karthikisthin:

Every dawn, he takes a shower and prays to the deity near the kitchen’s switchboard.

He then visits the local shrine and appeases his gods for long hours. As a pre-pubescent teenager, he had sworn lifelong commitment to his religion.

The concrete block that killed him was accidentally dropped by an atheist 8 floors away.

From @MixelRandy: The marble counter glistened invitingly. She watched as he readied the sashimi. While his back was turned, she hopped onto the countertop, silkily removed her red obi and gown and lay down. He turned around to find her completely bare, waiting to help him plate up. He was so glad he had won the bet.

From @RuthSaldanha:

Work. Coffee. Insomnia. Tossing, Turning. Tiredness. Headache. Crocin. Acidity. Pudin-hara? Paan-wala. Cigarette. Inhale. Pollution. Smog. Zero-visibility. Accident! Partial-Paralysis. Physio-therapy. Pain. Recovery. Elation. Bills. Despondency. Work. Coffee.


From @slokabs:

“Not now, I’m busy.” Today, he’s free. But his grown-up children are too busy for him.
“Should I tell him or not?” She never did. He never realized.
“If I had one chocolate from the box, no one would know”The burglar sat in jail.
Life is but a result of the choices you make!

From @TheLostCause_:

"What do you want?" she asked.
"Money, I want money!" replied he.
"I don't think I owe you. Besides, I don't have any. Go away from our lives!"
"You'll pay for this. Just you wait!"
Without thinking of the consequences, she slapped him. Little did she know that the slap would cost her, her life.

From @kunalbaidmehta:

The liftman closed the lift even after noticing her come.As soon as he came down again, she shouted and abused him a lot.
He didn't say a thing. Two days later, her body was found with a slit on her neck. She didn't know the consequences of a small incident would be so fatal.

From @ponderpuffman:

Eyes meet. Conversations are overheard. Skins touch. Warmness is felt. Bodies and senses merge. Souls dwell. Hurt is shared. Happiness is divided.

Silences are cultivated.

Thoughts residing in the back of the mind collide. Then they both move away. Shadows are left. Time burns them. They both wander. They both get lost.

Eyes meet. Again.

From @vchatting:

Years of working,to support her family; tied to routine,like a machine.
They were,affluent now, touch wood! With children abroad, small,big comforts, life looked worth, giving up her youth for.
Finally, she decided, soaking in the pleasures of "retired life". But, with nowhere to go, nothing to do, she stood stranded in her new life..

From @absoluteme:

She peeped cautiously. One way and the other.

She waited for the boom of heartbeats to ebb a bit.

Finally she started tip-toeing, aware of the cracking sound of her toes. A pause. The cracking again. She opened the candy-jar, took a fistful and stuffed them in her mouth not caring if mom had woken up.

From @vagabondinact: Gaily you bloomed into my life one spring and like a shedding leaf of winter, you disappeared. Why then, does your shadow linger? Shadows of memories and of hopes, dark, uncomforting, blinding my heart to the approaching spring. How do I tell my shadowed heart that you were only a consequence of my life’s cycle?

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