Adventurers

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"Like breadcrumbs," she said. "Where do you get these foolish notions from?" He was irritated at her stubbornness, her insistence on going to that pockmarked blue planet. "From an old Earth legend. These two people, Hansel and Gretel, they leave clues for each other." The corners of his mouth tightened. "You're not leaving clues for me because you're not going. Please. Just forget this lunacy." She'd smiled and said, "Fine. But if. Ever. I needed to leave clues for you… it'd be on their beaches. You'll just have to follow the breadcrumbs." #alien #scifi #beach #srilanka #fiction #love #fairytale #hansel #gretel #earth #sea #seaside

A post shared by La Fictionista (@lafictionista) on Aug 22, 2016 at 9:28am PDT

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Rocky road

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He touched the rough surfaces lovingly. Why couldn't you plant rock? Why couldn't you grow rock? He LIKED rock. It didn't keep nagging you for water or manure. It didn't keep changing forms or growing and needed tending. It just was. It didn't change. It didn't ask you for more than you could give. It didn't divorce you and take your money and refuse to let you see your children. Who had grown like weeds, the lawyer said. Why couldn't children be like rocks? He liked rocks. #rock #notrocknroll #divorce #heartbreak #garden #love #breakup

A post shared by La Fictionista (@lafictionista) on Aug 21, 2016 at 10:49pm PDT

Perspective

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He didn't see her anymore. He saw what he wanted to. He saw a woman who was the height he found comfortable, a weight he found acceptable, who had hair down to a length he liked and who dressed well enough to impress the wives of bosses and colleagues. He didn't see her growing disillusionment, her delicate fingers clutching at napkins at every meal time or the line that appeared between her eyebrows. He couldn't see her sense of humour dying or her sullen silences lasting longer. He saw what he wanted. A reflection of his own desires. And when she walked out, he was flabbergasted. After all, couldn't she see they had a great marriage? #instastories #reflection #marriage #projection #breakup #surprise #relationship

A post shared by La Fictionista (@lafictionista) on Aug 10, 2016 at 8:40am PDT

Exit

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The wind whipped her hair around, and for the first time in decades, she let it. Her hair swirled around her, haloing her or standing up like horns, and she sat there with a smile on her face. Letting go does that to a person. She let go of the fear and anger and sadness…and let her hair dance as she would soon. The neighbours walked by, glancing at her suitcases. The watchman asked if she needed a taxi. The phone rang and rang. And the wind blew her long, ebony black hair all over the place. #shortstory #instastory #fiction #freedom #lettinggo #longhair

A post shared by La Fictionista (@lafictionista) on Aug 8, 2016 at 3:44am PDT

Attention

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"And then I said that I couldn't possibly finish by Friday…are you listening to me Akash?" "What? Yes of course. So what happened then?" "…I don't think you even know what I'm talking about. And this isn't even the first time. What's going on?" "Oh God don't turn this into a thing. I was listening. You told your boss you couldn't possibly finish by Friday." "Not my boss. I told my mother that." "What? How is that even logical…stop looking at me like that. Stop it! I was listening." "Cheque please. Let's just leave." "What?? We have tickets to a movie." "I'm not in the mood. You want to go try and sell them?" "No! Will you stop making a big deal of nothing? I. Was. Listening." "That tree outside was listening more than you were. Goodbye Akash." "Even a tree wouldn't listen to you! Your stories are that boring! God." #shortstory #instastory #fiction #breakup #fight #listen #tree #listeningtree

A post shared by La Fictionista (@lafictionista) on Jul 27, 2016 at 3:11am PDT

Blooming

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It had been a beautiful morning. Till right now. She stared at the #plumeria #bloom nodding in the breeze. Her coffee sat half-sipped on the side. She wanted to rip the #plant to shreds. Because he'd planted it. How he'd remembered she didn't know. Amidst all the forgotten birthdays, anniversaries, pick ups, urgent requests, the begging, the pleading, the sullen silences and the angry chasms. He'd remembered to plant the plumeria. When she walked out, she'd told him that she was sure he'd forget her leaving, mired in his work as he was. Now, she looked at the #flower and hated that hope stirred in her. #instastory #shortstory #fiction #couples #love #loss

A post shared by La Fictionista (@lafictionista) on Jun 28, 2016 at 8:46am PDT

Opposites

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She'd left the drapes open again. He sighed, very quietly. It always amazed him that she could sleep through anything – light, sound, earthquakes. He needed total silence and darkness. Sometimes he wondered if this reflection of their personalities was a reflection on them. She needed people and confetti and music. He craved austerity and solitude. And yet, they couldn't sleep apart. He turned his head and saw that she was up, tiptoeing to the window to pull the drapes together. He smiled. #shortstory #instastory #fiction #love #happilyeverafter #sunrise

A post shared by La Fictionista (@lafictionista) on May 23, 2016 at 3:16am PDT