Strawberries

Vivek gagged as soon as he entered whatever remained of the living room. The fire had spared the top floors, but the ground floor was charred beyond recognition. Not that he had ever been in this palatial mansion ever before. But he had checked out the photos of all the wild parties that kept on happening here. No page 3 story was complete without some mention of the lives & happenings of the famous Ambani siblings. They were not only notorious for the said wild parties, but also quite infamous as heirs of the richest don of the country. Ever since their father was caught red-handed in a sting operation and put behind bars, the siblings had been on a single minded mission of depleting their fortune.

Vivek had never met the siblings, but had once been on bandobast duty during the heydays of Ambani Senior. He was the guest of honour for some award function where innovative farms were being lauded. Thousands of people had turned up at this open ceremony and crowd control was a pain. But there had been no untoward incidents and all the officers had been handed over baskets of fresh strawberries as compensation. The sickly sweet smell of ripe strawberries had stuck to his uniform for a week. His wife had made jam, ice lollies, milkshakes and even some kind of bread with it.

It was the same sickly sweet smell of ripe strawberries mixed with burning plastic, weed, and something else that was making him gag. Some of the furniture in this mansion was made of strange metal which had melted a bit but was mostly intact. Vivek kicked a half burned metal chair and it just crumpled into ash. As he moved from room to room, the weird smell got strong and Vivek had to take out his handkerchief and hold it in front of his nose. He reached what he thought was the music room as there were half burnt musical instruments piled up in one corner. Why were they piled up in one corner? It looked as if someone had tried to move them after the fire had started. He asked his constable to move the half burnt instruments. The boy gagged twice before he could even manage to move them an inch. And then let out a yelp. Vivek, almost gagging himself, walked to the back of the pile and saw a basket lined with fresh strawberries in all their pink glory, lying untouched.

Vivek bent down and picked up a strawberry. It was cool to the touch, as if it had just been brought out from the fridge. The heat from the now diffused fire hadn't seem to have affected it. That's when Vivek noticed something pink peaking out from under the basket. He lifted the basket to find a small piece of paper stuck to the bottom, with a piece of pink tape. Turning it over, Vivek read the simple 'Follow the berries' message which was made out with alphabets cut out from a magazine, all of which were again in pink.

The constable pointed toward a lone strawberry lying a few metres from the basket. Vivek then noticed the trail of strawberries, leading towards the main door of the room, each lying almost stuck to the wall and at a short distance from the other. Distracted with the smell, he'd seemed to have missed noticing these when he'd entered the room. His constable walked behind him, as Vivek followed the strawberries.

The trail lead him to the servant quarters, the only area that had not been inspected. There he found a small spiral staircase, leading upwards to the main corridor which was connected to the bedrooms. A strawberry lay on each stair, it's colour standing out against the blackened walls. Vivek climbed the staircase, being careful not to squish any of the berries under his heavy boot.

As Vivek opened the door leading to the corridor, he saw something black and charred right outside. On a closer inspection, he realized it looked like a human arm, charred beyond recognition. Looking grim, Vivek continued his path, which finally ended outside a dark wooden door. The constable removed his handkerchief and being careful to not touch anything, turned the doorknob. Vivek walked inside, his adjusting to the sunlight pouring in. The first thing they saw was a massive bed with a strawberry pink sheet. The trail of strawberries continued inside the room, leading up to the bed which had something that suspiciously looked like a human body, lying on it. It was blackened, and Vivek could see that it wasn't whole. Both of them walked up to the bed only to realize that though it was a body, it was that of a human-size doll!

This case was getting curiouser and curiouser. It seemed to Vivek like they were in a crime scene but they were yet to find a body or any incriminating evidence in this palatial maze. "What's with the strawberries? Why would someone take so much effort to make a trail that leads to fucking doll?", he thinks to himself. He sparked a cigarette, and he suddenly heard a woman laughing. He ran towards the window to see if he could see anyone downstairs but there was not a soul there. The laughing gets louder  and seems to be coming from the staircase.'Sir, I found this on the staircase', the constable reports, handing Vivek a pink phone with the voice loop playing.

Vivek pulls out his gun. He was absolutely sure that the phone wasn't there when he was coming up the staircase. Which could only mean there was someone else in the house. The constable and him decided to split up. Vivek made his way to the main dining room stealthily. It was eerily silent. He examined the furniture. There was wooden flooring and while walking he felt an uneven portion on the floor which was hidden by the rug. He found a latch, which when he yanked and managed to open he found a makeshift staircase to an underground cellar of sorts. He was about to open it when he suddenly heard gunshots coming from outside. He ran out as fast as he could, but he was too late. His constable had been shot multiple times. 'Whoever the fuck you are, show yourself this instant,  bloody coward.' He waits for a response. He takes his phone, but there is no reception. He sends a message to his team, calling for back up, hoping the message gets delivered.

He returns to the underground cellar he found. He starts walking in. With each step, the air got heavier and murkier and then came the stench filled with the same sickly sweet strawberry stench. He could hardly breathe. Something or someone definitely died here. It was really dark and he couldn't see anything. He finally found a switch, and when he lit up the place.

It seemed like an underground kitchen. There were big industrial grade knives on the walls, an oven, a sink and a gas stove. There were also a lot of surgical instruments on the ledge of the kitchen counter. There was a long table in the centre of the cellar. It was laid out for dinner for two with table cloth, beautiful silver cutlery, and a plate with a big silver cover on it.

He lifted the cover and found the severed head of the Ambani girl. He put the cover back and took a moment to himself. He goes to the other end, this time knowing what he expects, finds the other sibling's head. Both the severed heads were served with strawberry coulis. He checks to see if the cellar had any other openings beside the one he came in. creeeeeeeaaaaak, he saw the staircase opening closing. He points his gun and starts shooting at the opening but he reacts too late. The staircase was shut and he was trapped.

'Hahahahahahahaahah', he heard the same laugh. The lights go off. He quickly turns on his phone light and starts waving it around armed with a gun. 'Who is there? I am the goddamn police. Show yourself and you may still get a chance to redeem yourself', he yells. There is silence for about thirty seconds and the light comes back on and he sees a woman dressed in pink satin gown sitting on the table. She was extremely attractive and seemed to be in her mid 30s. Vivek quickly points his gun at her. He tried to remember if he had seen her face in the tabloids, but he couldn't place her

'And what makes you think I want to redeem myself. I thought I did that by killing my utterly useless but scrumptious step-children. Care for a bite?', said the woman while pouring the strawberry coulis on the girl's severed head.

 'YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR THE MURDER OF ISHAN AND NAVYA AMBANI. PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! NOW!', screamed Vivek. He had never encountered anything this sinister.

 'Oh darling, you  have had a rough night, let me fix you a drink. So worked up. So did my husband ever tell you how we met?, she casually went to the kitchen counter fixing him a drink. 'He was friends with my dad, the owner of the strawberry farms. My father was not a very nice man, and I wanted to get away from that house of horrors. My husband saw that. He knew what my sick dad did to me. So, he took me in. He built me this beautiful kitchen, where I could be my true self. I had always been curious about the human flesh and when he was around, he let me dissect his enemies. But then you assholes had to go and lock him in. He was the only one who understood me, and never judged me', she takes a sip of the drink she made. 'If he meant so much to you then why did you kill his kids?', asked Vivek buying time till he figured his next step.

'These ungrateful wretches were blowing up all his hard earned money. And noone fucks with my husband. I tried telling them. The sick boy couldn't get his dick up for a real person and kept fucking that doll, and the girl just couldn't keep her nose clean. And then the parties, so many parties. I kept telling them, but they just wouldn't listen. And since you locked my husband, I hadnt fed myself properly in months. So I killed  two birds with one stone. Hahahahahahah, could that be more apt?'

'Vivek, Vivek answer if you can hear us?', he heard voices from the top. His message had been delivered. His back up team was here 'I am down here, lift the latch, the latch', he screamed. BANG! BANG!

The backup team finally found the cellar. Vivek had been shot on his shoulder and was semi conscious. The woman, whom he shot in the head in self defense, was lying still, dead but with a smile on her face.

Café

'I'll have a cream cheese bagel with a side of crispy house bacon and a cappuccino. Also, have you guys changed your wi-fi password? Oh you haven't? Could you please feed it in my laptop, I am having some issues, thanks', said Nandini to her waiter who takes her laptop to the manager. She was seeing him walk away and got fixated at a point. You know that point, no matter how inconsequential and unappealing but you cant stop staring at till someone breaks you from a trance. 'Is this seat taken?', a woman asks her. Nandini is broken from her trance and she goes into another one when she lays her eyes on this woman. She had a beautiful azure blue summer dress, flattering her in all the right places, she had the most enchanting perfume on and she looked like she had walked straight out of a catalog, airbrushed and perfect. "Umm no. You can just sit here, I am just finishing up work anyway', Nandini blurts. The woman gives her a warm smile, sits and starts reading a book.The waiter comes back with her laptop and she starts working.

'Do you always slouch and work like that? You know its not good for you.', suddenly the enigmatic woman says to her. Nandini is taken aback. She had never been one to strike up a conversation with stranger. She was very reserved but for some reason this particular stranger seemed to have a hold on her and she felt compelled to reply. 'Ya, I know my colleagues and friends say the same thing. But I am one of those lost causes.' The woman gives her a smile and continues reading her book. Nandini has this uncontrollable urge to introduce herself. 'I am Nandini by the way. I work for an ad agency. My house is literally two blocks down but I prefer working here on the weekends', Nandini blurts. 'Why dont you tell her your family history and blood group also while you're at it' said her inner voice. 'Nice to meet you. I am Ketaki. I model, paint and surf when I get the chance. Even I live pretty close by. Would you like to see my apartment?' Nandini is speechless.

She finds herself saying "Yes, I would love to". Her instincts were screaming to run away. Who asks over someone to their house when they have just met? But Nandini couldn't help it. This exquisite woman had her in some trance. While the incoherence of her actions take over Nandini, her thoughts were crystal clear. She was meant to complete her assignment, the deadline of which was looming large. How was she gonna explain to her boss that she couldn't finish the copy for "Ramdas Vithaldas Venture Capitalists" for the 3rd time this week? Not that the brief was any exciting. But its a job and it has to be done. Nandini pushes the boring thought and shuts her laptop. Without another word, she puts away her things in her tote and looks at Ketaki. 

Ketaki smiles and gets up too. The waiter arrives with the order but Nandini is always out of the cafe. Ketaki pays for the order and follows Nandini. Their hands brush against each other on the door handle. Nandini is startled to realise that Ketaki's palms are ice-cold. The warning bells go on but she still follows her. Ketaki seems to glide across the pavement and reaches the fancy apartment that Nandini has always checked out on her way to this cafe. Nandini couldn't help feel a twinge of envy but she knows that owning or even renting an apartment in this fancy building is way above her pay grade. Maybe Ramdas & Vithaldas could fund her dream home. 

They reach the apartment and Ketaki holds the door open for Nandini. The room is in pitch darkness even at this peak summer afternoon. There is a faint odour of something unpleasant which Nandini cannot place. Her inner voice is screaming at her to make a run for it, but it's as if her limbs are under somebody else's command. "Where is the light switch, I cannot see anything" asks Nandini to Ketaki. Ketaki doesn't reply but Nandini can make out her silhouette snaking across the room. Suddenly the lights come on and Nandini freezes. The room is lined with jars of body parts preserved in formaldehyde. 

"You do know I could see right through your act, no?" Ketaki says, as she walks up to a huge double metal door. 'And seriously, cream cheese bagel? You've just lost the weight." Ketaki continues as she opens the metal door and walks inside. A blast of freezing air hits Nandini, who visibly relaxes and laughs at what Ketaki had to say. " Ah well, I was hoping you wouldn't recognize me this quickly.  And cream cheese? I thought why not give this one a chance. It's naturally thin." Nandini says as she follows Ketaki in.

It's a massive freezer unit inside. There were rows of human-sized glass cabinets on both side, lined up as per date. Each cabinet contained a human inside, naked and tubed to various beeping machines. They all seemed to be sleeping, but for the little jerks their bodies would involuntarily give. Ketaki walks up to a cabinet wherein lies a black, muscular man with a shaved head. "Hmm, he looks delicious. I think I'm going try him out." she says.  Nandini shrugs and walks around, seeming to be window-shopping. "I'm going to stick to being a female. It gets me free coffees! A little smile can take you a long way for some freebies!"

Nandini and Ketaki stand in front of their chosen cabinets and start undressing. They press down on the red button attached to the beeping machines, which immediately starts whirring. In sync with each other, they both cross their arms behind their backs and pull. The torso of the bodies fall to the ground, as two little white dots of light appear right there. The dots zoom into the glass cabinets they are in front of, and the humans inside jerk awake. They gently pull apart the wires attached to them, and open the doors of their cabinets. Out steps a black man and a beautiful Indian woman. The man smiles, "Ah, I feel powerful!" The woman giggles, "You do look good Ketaki! Anyway, let's quickly give you a name. I'm going to stick to Nandini. It's a beautiful name."

The man nods and walks to the broken bodies lying in front of him. 'But first, let's get all of these into formaldehyde and then head out for our next hunt!" The woman smiles as they both get to work. 

Workshop

‘Thud!’ the noise rings loud, echoing in the dark, empty street. Tanmay picks himself up and dusts his pants, looking up at the wired fence he’d fallen off from.  He giggles to himself, clearly drunk, as he calls through the fence asking the girl standing opposite to hurry up. She snaps at him, asking him to lower his voice, as she starts climbing. She’s soon on his side and they start walking towards a dilapidated, dark building. ‘Are you sure this is the right place?’ Rita asks. Tanmay nods, walking faster now. ‘Yes, they asked me to meet them at Workshop no. 3’. ‘But everything looks the same here! How do you know which one is No. 3?’ Rita argues as she stumbles, trying to keep up with Tanmay’s pace.

‘We look for tracks. Workshop 3 is where the train carriages are repaired.’ Tanmay replies. They both stumble in the dark, trying to walk straight in their drunken state. They go around the big building where they find a broken window. Tanmay shines a torch through the window and sees that the place looks deserted. He slides the window open and pulls himself through easily. Rita clambers in behind him. As their eyes adjust to the darkness, they see a row of train carriages lying in the workshop. Metal frames and other repairing tools are strewn all over the place. The place is dusty and looks like it hasn’t been used since a couple of months.

‘He’s asked me to wait inside the furthest carriage from the main door.’ Tanmay says as he starts walking. Rita follows, taking a swig from the flask she’s carrying in her pocket. ‘You know Tanmay, I think you’re being taken for a fool. It’s quite stupid to be meet in a place like this to handover a gm of coke! It’s not even a big quantity.’ Rita says, looking annoyed. Tanmay retorts by asking her to leave, if she doesn’t want to be here. Rita shuts up and follows him quietly, drinking from her flask. They stick to walking near the wall on the left side of the workshop, and pass many doors which are bolted with huge brass locks. Just when they think they’ve reached the last carriage in the workshop, they hear a loud crash. It seems to be coming from behind the wooden door they are standing at.

‘What was that?’ whispers Rita, her face looking pale in the moonlight creeping in from the windows. ‘Shush, be quiet!’ Tanmay tells Rita, putting up his hand up to stop her. He puts his ear to the door, but everything seems quiet now on the other side. ‘I’m going to try to find an opening to peep through.’ Tanmay whispers, as he runs his hand down the door, looking for a crack. He walks a little away from the door, and finds a small dusty window bolted with wooden shutters next to it. He pulls the wood, trying to get an opening for them to see through. Rita helps, both being as quiet as they can. They manage to clear a small space, which they think is enough for one of them to see on to the other side. Taking a deep breath, Tanmay looks at Rita, who nods softly, and presses his face into the opening. In an instant, he gasps.

He sees a shadowy figure with an axe hitting the ground incessantly. He has a partial view so he cannot tell what exactly the figure is axing away. 'Tanmay, let's go, I am getting creeped out by this place. Screw the coke, and lets just get out of here, please', Rita pleads. Tanmay is fixated and cant stop staring at the shadowy figure. ' Come here and I'lll show you your true self', he hears these words in his ear. Rita pulls him away and it feels like he has been taken out of a trance. He asks her what or who did she think the figure was. "What figure? I did not see anything. You definitely do not need more intoxicants. Fuck the dealer, lets get the fuck out of this slasher movie setting", she laughs. 

Tanmay is hardly paying any attention to what Rita is saying. He is more drawn to the locked doors. The brass locks call out to him to open them. He gets an unquenchable urge to know what is inside. 'Seek me, find your true maker', the same voice from earlier whispers in his ear. He stands in front of the door and tries to break open the lock by kicking it. 'What in god's name are you doing? Can we please just leave?'. Tanmay pays no heed to what she is saying and continues kicking. He spots something shiny in the door gap. He pulls it out and it turns out to be a key. 'You've got to be kidding me! Are you seriously thinking of going in? What has gotten into you? Why are you being such an asshole. SAY SOMETHING!', she bellows. Tanmay turns with a look in his eye she had never seen. He had anger issue but this was something else. "No one forced you to come here. You don't like it, then fuck off. I am anyway sick of you cramping my vibe all the time. So why don't you do us both a favour and FUCK OFF!', he yells. With tears in her eyes, Rita leaves.

Tanmay turns the key and opens the door. It is pitch dark. A hint of light comes in through one glass window. He can see silhouettes of big machinery dumped callously. He walks around to see if he can find a light source. He finds the switch to the bulb and straight at the wall he sees a dusty station master's uniform. 'You need to ride that midnight train to purge the world of its filth', the same voice he hears. This time he can feel someone's presence as if they are breathing down on him. He feels the proximity lessen and turns around to see and freezes.

It is Rita. Sure as sweet heaven, it is her. In the same dishevelled look as few minutes ago. The same green dress with those huge grocery bag pockets. God knows what she carries in them apart from the flask that she keeps sipping from. But Rita looks different. Yes, it's the same clothes, shoes, flask, even the same arms and legs and face, body yet its not her. For starters, its not her voice. Rita has a regular south Mumbai diva voice, screechy and accented. 

This lookalike of Rita's has a much more soothing, intoxicating and chilling voice. You cannot but obey the voice. Tanmay is confused. He asks the apparition "Rita, is that you?". The shadowy Rita simply turns and floats out. Tanmay cries "IS THAT YOU?" and then adds softly "Sorry". He is undecided whether to follow shadowy Rita or the real one who he just yelled at. 

Tanmay is still contemplating his next course of action when he hears some clanging sound coming from the next room. He is suddenly very scared. Gone is his bravado and his inquisitiveness about the workshops and the closed doors. He digs in his pockets and fishes out the little pouch with the 3gm of coke in it. He doesn't care for the buyer anymore. The shadowy Rita has flipped something in him. He breaks a window and wipes it clean on his sleeve. Using the glass as a board, he cuts 3 neat lines. He arranges them so that they resemble a smiley face - one line each for the eyes and the smiling mouth. He then starts growling in a sort of strange animal mating ritual. 

The clanging sounds stop. He calls out "Rita?". He gets no response. He adds "Shadowy Rita?". Still no response. "True Maker Rita?". "Rid-the-world-of-filth-Rita?". No response. No clanging. No Rita. No shadowy Rita. 

Suddenly weary of this hide and seek game, Tanmay snorts one line. The mouth. The biggest line. Before he could even breathe out, he hears a gruff voice saying something softly. He turns around. Its the buyer. He is looking pointedly at the glass. Before Tanmay could react, Rita bursts out from behind the shadows. She tackles the buyer and they both fall down spreadeagled and entangled amongst themselves. Tanmay starts howling. He cannot take it anymore. Everything is muddled up. He throws himself on top of that tangled heap of arms and legs. As his body makes contact, his VR plug falls off his ear. 

Tanmay wakes up in his chair. For a second he is disoriented and then he remembers the simulation game that he was testing. There is obviously a loophole. He ends the game and disables the other player's console. Rita wakes up with a jerk but quickly acclimates to reality. She smiles at Tanmay and says "Guess, you didn't factor in the hidden Ghost mode". 

Tanmay just nods his head and walks off. 

Everybody's Story (Short story by Sadhika Menon)

Once upon a time, Alan was in his mother's womb and a few months later he was out and ready for the world. Alan's parents loved and cared for him dearly. They worked hard so he could have a comfortable life and the luxury to follow his passion and dreams.

On his 10th birthday, his dad got him a video game console. It was the best gift ever. He spent a lot of time playing. He was fascinated by the graphics and wanted to know more. This peaked his interests in graphic design over the years. He taught himself basic software and learnt more by designing T shirts and posters for his friend's bands. His parents were happy to see the focus he exhibited in what he was passionate about. They were happy they made good parents. They had their own hopes and dreams before Alan. His dad was going to eave his job to open up a small restaurant and his mom was a wild spirit who just wanted ti travel all over the world. But things changed and they had to restructure their lives with a kid on the way. His dad never got to open that restaurant and his mom never got to wear that blue bikini at Navagio. But they did not live in the past and regret and celebrated on doing a good job raising a kid and having a beautiful family.

On his 18th birthday, his dad got him a very expensive laptop for college and told him he should never give up on his dream and keep at designing even if his major was different now. Alan left for college and as it happens to the best of us he spent mos of his time getting stoned and drunk. It was a rite of passage Alan had to take. The fun years went by pretty quick and Alan now had a huge student loan to pay off and he had minimal job offers. He took up the first one he got. His mom and dad urged him to follow his dreams and they would support him but Alan wanted to make it on his own. He took the accounting job. His dad did not want him to compromise and live his life not feeling passionate about what he does. His parents has worked too hard for him to settle for a life of compromise.

A few later he met a girl and married her. 5 years later, Alan was going to be a dad. He couldn't wait to meet his daughter and dedicate his life to her. On the day his wife's water broke, he rushed her to the hospital. As he entered he saw their logo and smiled. He was at the hospital whose logo he had designed. He looks behind and his parents are there to offer him help. At that moment, everything was perfect and he truly appreciated his blessed life. 

STORY (Short Story by Smruti Choudhury)

She kept on glancing back to check if he was following her. He was. That reassured her. She walked with a light step, soaking in all the sights and sounds of this amazing place. She had never seen such majestic structures. And so many colors!

She even liked the afternoon sun beating down her neck. Of course, she had heeded her host’s advice and slathered on sunscreen to save herself from sunburn. But she still burned. Her skin was the color of warm honey mixed with burnt umber now. She liked it. She had never tanned so much, even when she would lie for hours sunbathing back home.

But what interested her most was the eyes. Everyone had such beautiful dark eyes and the women lined them with kohl to make them pop. She had seen babies with kohl as well. It was said to ward off the evil eye.

The boy who was following her as she walked around the palace also had kohl in his eyes. He was around 10 or 11, definitely pre-teen. But he looked interesting. He didn’t come across as the annoying tourist guides who were always pestering her to give them some money. He hadn’t approached her but kept her within sight. He didn’t even look like he wanted any money. Maybe he had never seen a white skinned woman ever. No, that was not possible. This place was crawling with white people of all shapes and sizes. Jaipur was considered one of the must-see destinations in India.

The red sandstone walls merged into a seeming infinity, stretching beyond it. The exquisite carpet of the erstwhile inhabitants of the City Palace, Maharaja something or the other merged with the giant kurta type garment of the kings and seemed to be suspended in the air. Everything merged with everything in a riot of colors and everything was blurred at the same time. The only thing that was well defined was the boy with his kohl rimmed eyes twinkling.

She shook herself from this reverie and came back to the riot of colors. She looked around for the boy and found him at the corner, looking at her with the same intensity. She beckoned him to come to her. He didn’t. She took out a piece of candy from her bag and offered it to him. He slowly walked upto her and put out a timid hand for the candy. She let him take it and gestured him to sit down next to her. The boy chomped away at the candy bar. They looked very comfortable sitting there in the middle of the museum watching tourists throng by, ignoring the heat and the crowd. They looked happy.

Finally, the boy broke the calm comfort and asked “So, what is your story?”

She smiled and ruffled his hair thinking about her son who would have been the same age as this boy. He might even have the same confidence. Everything would be just as same except for the eyes. The eyes with its kohl would only belong to this timid yet confident Indian boy who had been following her around.

An Ode To Alcohol (Prose by Sadhika Menon)

To my eternal love, thank you for never leaving my side. You never let me leave you too. But why would I? You have always been there for me, no questions and no judgments. You are my one and only. My beautiful ball and chain.

I remember meeting you for the first time when I had runaway from home. I had sworn it was the last time he would lay his dirty hands on me. You really saved me that night, made me feel safe and like I was going to be alright. I had a good start, I met a good old lady, Welma a few days later who gave me a job in her grocery store and a room in her beautiful home. She became family. Life was so good. I only met you for the fun occasions in that period- for birthdays, weddings, happy things! Remember when you and I were just fair-weather friends? Man, that was a long time ago. 

Things changed fast and for the worse. Welma passed away and I was thrown out of her house by her relatives as they thought I had something to do with her death. I was on the road again and you comforted me again when we met at a local pub. It was just like the last time, I felt it would all work out. Remember we skipped town together? I still remember that hopeful road journey, just me and you and a million possibilities. 

Life kept throwing the biggest curve balls, but there was nothing you and I couldn't face together. We were going to make a beautiful life together. I would have a big house and keep a whole cabinet full of you. We were gonna have the most amazing parties with famous actors, models and all congratulating us for our amazing success. But that never happened.

10 years later, we did not achieve anything we set out to do. I did not plan to spend all my time with you. I should have kept you as an occasional friend. I did not realize that even though you were there, you drove everyone else away. How can someone be so loving and cruel at the same time? Now it is like you have this venomous control on me and I am always at your mercy. Our relationship turned toxic. I wish I had never met you.

ALCOHOL (Short Story by Smruti Choudhury)

“Do you know what alcohol does to your liver?” Mickey asked. 

“I know what it does to my mind…hic” giggled Minnie.

Mickey had no option but to drag a fighting, clawing Minnie to the bedroom and lock her in.

He quickly came back and hid the bottle of bourbon at the back of the kitchen counter.

It would be a matter of minutes before Minnie knocked the bedroom door down. When she was under the influence of alcohol, she got superhuman powers.

As Mickey was pouring out the dregs from the glass into the sink, Minnie crept up behind him and hit him with a frying pan, knocking Mickey unconscious. She then reached behind the kitchen counter to retrieve her bottle of bourbon. Mickey always hid the bottle there. “By now he should have found better hiding place” scoffed Minnie.

After a few quick pulls, Minnie glanced at the still frame of Mickey and realized that his breathing had slowed down. She fell to her knees and kept her head on Mickey’s chest to listen.

All she could hear was the loud ‘Thump Thump” in her head. A bit disoriented, she got up and gulped down two fingers of bourbon before she even reached the bedroom. Then Minnie passed out.

The next morning, Minnie woke up to the smell of frying bacon and eggs and smiled at the thought of breakfast. Her head still ached but her stomach was growling more. She walked out to the living room and stopped short at seeing everything changed.

“What happened here?” Minnie asked.

“I did some spring cleaning” answered Mickey, “Breakfast?”

Minnie sat down obediently and Mickey turned from the stove with the frying pan in his hand. He had a big scar running across his face from where Minnie had hit him last evening with a frying pan.

Minnie noticed that it was the same frying pan that Mickey was using for the bacon. She got a bad feeling about it and her stomach churned.Mickey raised the frying pan and just as he was swinging it over to Minnie’s face, she threw up.

It was the best projectile vomit that Mickey had ever seen and he ducked out of the way. The pan went flying across the dining table and crashed against the wall, splattering hot bacon grease over the polka dotted wallpaper. The oil stains disturbed the symmetry, forming new dots.

Mickey turned to look at Minnie who was alternating between giggling and throwing up.

“What’s so funny? Asked Mickey.

“You won’t understand” answered Minnie

“Try me”

“Don’t you see… it’s the alcohol which saved me from getting an ugly scar”

“Bite me!”