THE FORCES OF DARKNESS

I know,its a corny title. But i am trying to write a short story with a kick-ass protagonist in a dark age, with romance playing second-fiddle. This is just a start. I hope you like it!


"I feel exhausted", she exclaimed loudly to the walls of the empty room. Well, near empty room. There was a rat somewhere nibbling at last nights' left-over pizza . She had to remind herself twice to clean the room and every time she started, she got distracted by something shiny she came across. Everything, every possession was a new discovery.  If only she owned such a place in a more legal fashion.
"We have to get going sheila...the owners will be back soon and we need to find a new hide-out," her best friend and partner-in-crime Andy said.
The world was collapsing around them in Little City. It was days of drudgery, exhausting walks without water or food, some lucky pick-up trucks later that they found themselves at the margin of Central City. The apocalypse hadn't reached here. It was surprising how news of death and disease traveled. The first steps taken by the Center was not to cure us or rescue the residents of Little City; instead it was to barricade the boundaries, preventing us from crossing over. Humanity is the last resort that the powerful use to sell their ideas. Fear is the first emotion that is exploited.
The noise of the key turning in the lock reached them.
"We need to leave ASAP. Leave the laptop behind. We have all the material in the Back up Drive," Andy murmured urgently as he stood to get together all the food and packaged water they stole..uh..borrowed.
She was still stuck to the laptop.."Just one more file...it has all the formulas of the second code.."
"Come on cher...we don't have time" He tried to push her towards the window.
"You go along...I am behind you." She typed as fast she could accelerating the transfer speed, compromising on quality.
The main door opened.
She took out the drive as the transfer got completed and ran to the window. Her heart was beating erratically. They were in one of the WnP soldier's barracks. The soldiers were known to be ruthlessly faithful to the center, killing mindlessly, only working on orders.
As soon as one of her legs was off the edge, she tied the connecting rope to the pillar of opposite building.
"Little rat....where are you going" a cruel voice whispered in her ear. Intimately. She knew that voice. The voice of her nightmares. A tight hand gripped her shoulder. She started to scream as another hand shut her mouth.
"Come on little rat....you entered the dragons lair. Our fun has just begun."
Something hard hit her head.
And then all she knew was darkness.
Her last thought was of hope: wishing Adam saved the code that she transferred in the Disc and threw across the building , inside the opposite window. She wished she could see her little sister one last time, tell her the story of a time when there were no rulers, no liars and men with cruel voices didn't exist
But darkness called to her and she followed along, like a sirens song. 

LOVE IN THE TIME OF BULLET TRAINS

The world today exists in simultaneity.
I am expected to know what is happening in the farthest, most remote part of the world. I need to know when the satellite is launched and the space between planets and starts are of less significance than before. I have to keep pace with the fast moving stock market and brace myself against the ticking of the clock.

Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.

The world has moved on to a new president, to a new disaster, to new stars and planets. And i stand here, expected to move forward. Not let myself be swept away in the maze but control the uncontrollable, the unpredictable force of these changes. To control the charged bull huffing and rushing towards the red mark; the target only visible to the wild creature i am precariously seated on- not out of will; but still, as necessary as the air that i can no longer feel. I cannot be swept away by the storm. I need to be, and more importantly, I am expected to be in control of my boat, my plane, my bullet train.

He stands there -still, silent, permanent. Waiting for me.

I don't see him in the crowd- all of us rushing towards the office, the apartment we call home, the grocery store, the movie, the salon, the protest march. All of us not knowing what we expect of life, what we need to give it, what we are doing- but still knowing, collectively, what is expected of us- to move as fast as we can , to reach that pre-decided destination.
A second passed. Tick-
 a bomb-blast somewhere.a 100-crore movie released.a women raped.a new president elected.a queer beaten.a cricket match won.a child died of hunger.a 70 year old women wrote her first word.

and we move on as fast as we can to the next second before the clock strikes- Tock. 

He still stands there. He waits for me to see him. He stands in front of me and yet i unsee him. He is not expected, so i have no reason to see who is standing right in front of me. I am expected to ignore the unnecessary, the insignificant.
I rush towards the bullet train, to reach my destination as soon as i can. I need to reach there soon so that i can leave and reach the next destination as soon as possible, so that the next stop is not missed. Its a never ending cycle of movement, of destinations and i cannot lose control by slowing down, by seeing what is extraneous to my defined being.

He sits there, beside me, in the train. Still and permanent. Not human. Waiting for me to notice his existence.

He is a sweet boy with a crooked nose. He is an old man with broken teeth. He is a musician, always humming, always smiling, always still. He is the love of my life and i cannot see him. He steps into the bullet train with me, watching me, waiting for me to notice him. And i cannot see him.

Tick Tock

The train reaches the next stop and i run along with the crowd, down the platform, to my...home. Only to get ready for the next minute.

The world exists in simultaneity. I have to be everywhere for me to exists somewhere.
He is now a middle-aged man sitting there, eating a sandwich, enjoying the scenery from the fast moving bullet train.
And I cannot see him.