The Messenger
The door swung open and I looked up with a start, mouth as wide open as my eyes - a bad conscience can do that to you.
I just could see a dark silhouette against the grey storm clouds outside. The figure in the entrance wore a cape of some sort and it whipped around its shoulders like it had a life of its own.
Another flash of lightning, closely followed by its thundering mate, illuminated only the inside of the hut and probably my face. The features of that other one stayed hidden in shadows - but I could chance a good guess at his identity nevertheless.
"What do you want?" My voice sounded far more unsteady than I liked, but at least I was now able to stop gaping like a stupid fish and even regained enough of my composure to sit up straight.
As an answer, a small bundle was thrown towards me. I failed to catch it and it hit the ground with a surprisingly heavy thud and tumbled towards me with the rest of its momentum.
'So the time has come' were my last thoughts before I closed my eyes and the door swung shut.
This is my post for the First Campaigner Challenge as was set up here http://networkedblogs.com/mAcae.
word-count: 200
Updates:
"The Messenger" has by now turned from a flash-fiction into a short-story.
04.10.2011: Chapter 1
10.10.2011: Chapter 2
19.10.2011: Chapter 3
26.10.2011: Chapter 4
(this was original posted first in my Livejournal, including comments)
The door swung open and I looked up with a start, mouth as wide open as my eyes - a bad conscience can do that to you.
I just could see a dark silhouette against the grey storm clouds outside. The figure in the entrance wore a cape of some sort and it whipped around its shoulders like it had a life of its own.
Another flash of lightning, closely followed by its thundering mate, illuminated only the inside of the hut and probably my face. The features of that other one stayed hidden in shadows - but I could chance a good guess at his identity nevertheless.
"What do you want?" My voice sounded far more unsteady than I liked, but at least I was now able to stop gaping like a stupid fish and even regained enough of my composure to sit up straight.
As an answer, a small bundle was thrown towards me. I failed to catch it and it hit the ground with a surprisingly heavy thud and tumbled towards me with the rest of its momentum.
'So the time has come' were my last thoughts before I closed my eyes and the door swung shut.
This is my post for the First Campaigner Challenge as was set up here http://networkedblogs.com/mAcae.
word-count: 200
Updates:
"The Messenger" has by now turned from a flash-fiction into a short-story.
04.10.2011: Chapter 1
10.10.2011: Chapter 2
19.10.2011: Chapter 3
26.10.2011: Chapter 4
(this was original posted first in my Livejournal, including comments)
NahiSirath se pyar krthe hai,jis par jaan hum apni nishawar krthe hai,kehne ko tho sabi Ashiq kehte hai, Play BazaarMagar Hum wo Ashiq haijo apni mehboob ki izaat k khatirhum apni Mohbbt b chupa sakte hai.Ye Ashiq ki hai nayi daastan,sun k sabi log hogaye pareshaan,mohabt ki ladayi me jeet hi gaya tha wo,apni mehbooba ko gar le aya tha wo,khusi se tho ek din beet gaya,Dusre hi din wo Late bangaya,sare barathi hogaye Aya dour ab Naye AshiQ Kapurane Ashiqo ne azamana chaha?batao kya kr sakte ho tum apni mehbooba k liye?hum ne tho Qurbaan kr di thi Jaan un k liyeSun k sawal New Satta King Ashiq hass padabola jo dard sahaa hai tumne uska waqt kam thabola hum ne tho guzari dard bari zindagi aisilo sunatha hoon Aap beethi apniun k liye my apni sari Umar guzar dikhoon k Asansu the jo rukne k intezar me guzaariisi dauraan chali gayi benaayeei hamarimagar wo ab tak b lout k na ayi.
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