My previous post…Solid as a Rock…was/is my first ever story on this blog. It was a Flash Fiction in response to this picture with two rocks/stones.

Actually, that day I had simultaneously written three stories for this picture. It was Sunday and the story writing mood had set in.

Here’s the second story “Extracted Promises“…and the third story “Rocks that Talk”

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Extracted Promises

It was quite an effort to bring her mortal remains all the way from another country to this small sleepy town, but ever since I did that, I’ve been feeling some kind of contentment.  After all, it was mom’s last wish – to be buried near her favorite rocks in Katooba.

As I finished the religious formalities with the help of other villagers, I stood gazing at the ground where she now lay covered.

I wondered, “What was so special about these pieces of big stones?”  I had asked her but she had never disclosed.

Rituals accomplished, as I was about to walk away, an elderly man who looked much older than my mother, came up to me.

He said, “I had done the same for him. Buried him here last year.”

“Who is this ‘him’?  I asked curiously.

“My nephew”, he said looking at the ground.  “These two were great friends”

The man disclosed that he had known my mom and her friend from the times when they played together, grew up together. He had overheard them saying that they may part ways but they’ll come back and be laid to rest next to their two favorite rocks.

“So you see, they had promised each other and now we have fulfilled it”, the elderly man tried to give it all a satisfying closure.

“Gosh! So she was fulfilling a simple promise!!”, I spoke loudly as my eyes popped with surprise.  “Oh! How poignant!  Why didn’t she tell me? Why did she feel I would not understand her.”

But I wondered…Do I really understand her even now?  Mom was very attached to dad, and dad looked after her very well.  So was she just fulfilling a simple promise of an innocent friendship bond?

There could never be any answers to this question, for they both were gone now.

But at that moment I felt I didn’t know my mom enough.  And she didn’t know me either.

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Rocks That Talk

The two boys passed by these rocks every day while going to their school. As they approached the stones, like most other days today again they started arguing.

The younger six year old repeated what he always said. “How many times will I have to tell you they talk?”  His hand pressed on his ears, he said convincingly, “I have heard them with these ears”.

The older of the two retorted, “Baah!!  You and your funny stories.  As iiiffff….c’mon I have more common sense”

“You don’t wanna believe?  Up to you. The other day I even saw two eyes on the head of the taller rock. Look closely. They are real”.  He emphasized the word ‘real’

“And why would I believe you?  Stones talking. Stones with eyes. Hah!!  What an imagination this boy has!!”, he said shaking his head.

Then something came into his mind. He changed his path abruptly, to turn towards the rocks.  ”Let me check”, he said.

On approaching one of the two rocks, the older boy started slapping the stony surface, while laughing jeeringly. He took out a sharp compass needle from his geometry-box.  Carving and scratching at the rugged surface, he said, “Look they are not talking!  Are they afraid of me? Huh!!”

The younger boy looked at all this in fear and awe, as the older boy walked off still holding the open stationary-box. The two walked away, now with their backs towards the proud stony structures.

A few steps gone and they heard a voice from behind – “Stop!!!”

Their feet jammed.  The younger boy was calm, for he had heard these voices before. The older one sat down shakily with a thud. The contents inside his geometry-box scattered all around him noisily, breaking the silence of the valley .

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You have previously read my articles and poems. Do let me know if story-writing is my forte or not.

Thanks for reading!!

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