Let there be light_Do not dare a mad man_Someone Knew_The Silent King
Catalog Guide:
Let there be light
Mukherjee Villa, synonymous to tradition and heritage basking in the middle of Moira Street was the roof under which lived fourteen members, thirteen Mukherjee’s and their attendant Robi. The gigantic structure stood out to passer bys due to its old day architectural elegance and the continuous hustle bustle from the indoors. Mr Soshodhor Mukherjee the eldest member of the household runs a printing press by the name of Words and Spring and his four sons Sankha, Subhra, Subhas and Santo are natural heirs of the same. They all diligently leave for the press at 9 am every morning and their wives ...
Do not dare a mad man
Everything seemed loud. The laughter from my friends echoing in the room was too much to bear. It felt like the room and everything in it was rotating. I could not feel my legs; neither my hands or any other part of my body was functioning fully. I tried hitting my forehead, rubbing my eyes and blinking severally so as to get my brain functioning but it was all for nothing! I guess the weed cookies, pills plus the alcohol we were busy gobbling down our throats were finally taking their toll on me as usual. “Isaiah! Are you ready for the dare?”, Jake asked me. I did not respond, I guess I was t...
Someone Knew
Sheriff Callen propped against the shady side of the building, smoking a cigar and watching the bus carrying his wife pull into the bay. A guy wearing a lightweight beige suit and white hat, his kind only seen in town during festival season, stepped off, turned and extended his hand. Slender fingers with red nail polish took it. Holding gently, she descended, her teeth showing. Callen spat. "Wilma!" She released her hand. "Honey, you made it on time." The man tipped his hat and walked into the station. "Who's he?" "I don't know." She started towards the driver, unloading bags. "That one is m...
The Silent King
He walked down the dusty market lwww.onedoor.ccane his face wrapped in a thick fabric covering everything except his eyes. What was once a cheerful busy market place with loud hawkers selling meats, spices, dry fruits, silks and leather lay desolate. A few people hurried past, heads wrapped in fabric, noses covered, eyes lowered. There was an air of fear and suspicion. A few homeless remained, in corners, holding out for alms, flimsy threadbare cloth covering their faces, their eyes speaking volumes. He pulled out some bread from the folds of his robe and dropped it into their bowls, taking care to stay a...