Short Stories

I dwell with a strangely aching heart , In that vanished abode there far apart, On that disused and forgotten road

Back to the cliffs. Let’s walk barefoot again. Yeah, come on. Kick the boots away, little more pain will not kill you. It will barely register, trust me. Hop up

The girl was naive, her eyes red with all the crying. Her dress dirty from lurking in the store all day long. I helped her up, brushed the dust off, kicked off my own flimsy slippers and led her to where I was last seen, down the rocky roads again, the last horizon

She was sobbing so hard, And I made no move to pacify her. Cry it all out, love, tears left inside will just turn into poison and when it reaches the heart, it might change you forever. Rocks and pebbles hit my feet but I barely felt them, she did, though. She flinched as they cut in from here and there. Her pain isn’t deep, I smiled at the thought. It could be distracted, maybe it was a pain that can be forgotten. Years afterwards it will grow old and wear off. I smiled again, as if I knew her pain, as if I had the right to judge her

I asked her to sit at the edge, dangle her legs down. I asked her to look at the rushing water. She saw it, her blurring eyes wandered about. I smiled again. She could see past her pain. She would heal. The wound wasn’t deep. But what if it was, what if she wasn’t seeing with her eyes, and all she saw was the pain that was so new and was so heavily pressing on her chest. What if.. what if…

There are many ways in front of you, my love. Walk away, run from the pain. Or stay and endure it. It will either kill you, make you stronger,or leave you half dead. At this point nothing I say will make sense, nothing I say will soothe you. You have to find a way to get past it yourself. I came here, years ago. Why? To make a decision. But I never had a choice. I fell into these waters, and now am a part of it. My body floated somewhere far away, some people buried it, with no rituals, with no prayers. Whether they bid my soul peace or not, I don’t know. I was too far away to hear

I held her hand, she flinched at the cold, but didn’t run. I looked in her red eyes and gave her a little smile.
She turned to look at me as I got up. Air roaring in my hair. Life will come, if you want to live it. Before I took a dive, I saw that horrified look in her eyes. She might be one of the very few who met the soul of the cliffs. They say she comes to those who are lost in pain. They say sometimes her voice can be heard with the roaring wind. She’s one of the stories lost and lonely places have about them. If a place is deserted by life, people try to fill it with ghosts, as if there aren’t many among them, as if death is only the demise of the body…

(Title: Frost’s Ghost House)

(I am so not satisfied with the story, but despite a month, I could not make any significant changes. sob)

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6 thoughts on “I dwell with a strangely aching heart , In that vanished abode there far apart, On that disused and forgotten road”

  1. Beautifully written, but I must say I don’t like the way your writing is plagued with so much agony. I see you presents both sides to what a life could be but the darker one mostly overpowers in what you write and the brighter one is always like just a hovering dream. I don’t know if this will make sense to you, However regardless of that, Beautifully written.

    1. I write the happier stuff too but the person I actually am is like the happiest jolliest fellow. That is the brighter side to me. When it comes to writing, I write what comes good =)

      And it’s not dark… dark is my spooky monster stories, feel free to search them in the box, top right as per the screen =)

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