Breaking the long silence...with 55 words.
16 Comments Published by Angel on Saturday, September 24, 2005 at 4:06:00 AM.
Shrutz thinks it's time I got back to blogging.
And as a Welcome-Back gift she gives me no bouquet, but a tag!
The tag asks me to write a 55 word story that has to make sense.
Well, the must-make-sense part was as challenging as the word limit.
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And as a Welcome-Back gift she gives me no bouquet, but a tag!
The tag asks me to write a 55 word story that has to make sense.
Well, the must-make-sense part was as challenging as the word limit.
------------------------------------------
They walked into the hall.
“So, where do you want to sit?” he asked.
“Well, anywhere, I’m not fussy” she replied.
“Okay, let’s sit here then.”
“Hmmm, no. Let’s sit there, those seats seem nice”
He was confused, and stayed silent.
Later.
“So, where shall we eat?”
“Well…”
He was silent. Not confused, just silent.
Dare you to move
Dare you to move">12 Comments Published by Angel on Friday, September 02, 2005 at 8:13:00 PM.
Let's call her Priya. When she walks into a room, people stare, not because they think she's gorgeous, but because they think she looks weird. She walks strange. She bobs her head a little too vigourously when she speaks. When she finds someone to speak to, she tries to keep their
attention, while the other person makes up an excuse to get away from her. She isn't their 'type'. So she's not picked and put into the friend basket, like others that are their type.
Priya doesn't want sympathy, she wants a friend. Not even a best friend. Just a friend.
Priya comes up with a million things to talk about, hoping someone with those interests will come up to her and make conversation. Sometimes she will go to a random person and crack a joke that no-one will laugh at. Sometimes, a 'group' will call her over and ask her questions and laugh at her answers. She'll laugh with them, pleased that she's being heard, oblivious to the fact that she's the joke.
Priya isn't underconfident. She isn't attention-seeking. She's just different.
Yesterday, Kriti went up to her and said, "Hey, Priya, wasn't it your birthday last month? Sorry I couldn't wish you. I know it's late, but Happy Birthday!"
Priya stood there, shocked that someone actually remembered her birthday.
"Thanks, at least you remembered." she said, still surprised.
"So, how was it?" asked Kriti.
"Oh, my mom's abroad, so I spent it alone, at home."
"Oh..."
"You know, I used to remember birthdays when I was in school." recalled Priya.
"And then what happened?"
"I don't know...." she said, as she tried to find an answer.
Soon, someone yelled for Kriti and she was back in her little clique, giggling with the others.
She turned around and saw Priya walking off alone.
"Hey Priya...bye."
"Bye."
attention, while the other person makes up an excuse to get away from her. She isn't their 'type'. So she's not picked and put into the friend basket, like others that are their type.
Priya doesn't want sympathy, she wants a friend. Not even a best friend. Just a friend.
Priya comes up with a million things to talk about, hoping someone with those interests will come up to her and make conversation. Sometimes she will go to a random person and crack a joke that no-one will laugh at. Sometimes, a 'group' will call her over and ask her questions and laugh at her answers. She'll laugh with them, pleased that she's being heard, oblivious to the fact that she's the joke.
Priya isn't underconfident. She isn't attention-seeking. She's just different.
Yesterday, Kriti went up to her and said, "Hey, Priya, wasn't it your birthday last month? Sorry I couldn't wish you. I know it's late, but Happy Birthday!"
Priya stood there, shocked that someone actually remembered her birthday.
"Thanks, at least you remembered." she said, still surprised.
"So, how was it?" asked Kriti.
"Oh, my mom's abroad, so I spent it alone, at home."
"Oh..."
"You know, I used to remember birthdays when I was in school." recalled Priya.
"And then what happened?"
"I don't know...." she said, as she tried to find an answer.
Soon, someone yelled for Kriti and she was back in her little clique, giggling with the others.
She turned around and saw Priya walking off alone.
"Hey Priya...bye."
"Bye."
Between who you are and who you could be.
Between how it is and how it should be.
I dare you to move.
