Because randomness is the way to go! ;)


Fireworks are the perfect metaphor for being in love with someone who may not feel the same – equal parts beautifully exciting and potentially devastating. Falling in love with him was exactly like a too-close-for-comfort firework display. He was as haughty and unruffled as he was tender and caring. His arms made her feel like she was wanted but unopened front doors in the middle of July told another tale. Being in love with him meant that life was unpredictable – some days he would bring her flowers and other days she would keep waiting for a phone call that would never come.

She was nothing extraordinary. She was skin, muscle, sinew and bone. But she was in love – all consuming, breath stealing, heartbeat skipping, and insomnia inducing love. The surreal tingle of simply being in some measure in a romantic exchange was more than enough to make her go a little crazy. Things were not so bad until she found herself at home in the suffocating agony of affection that was not equally reciprocated or at the very least, expressed. She often wondered if the fact that he was absolutely wrong for her made them connect so well.

And at times when the labored breaths escape her, she wonders if she is dehydrated enough to be dizzy. Was three hours of profuse sobbing enough to turn her body into a dry wasteland? – She wonders one evening. ‘Was it possible to feel like you will never be happy again with someone?’ – She catches herself think on her way home from work. She certainly feels barren on the outside.  

Her thoughts are running amok in fields of dreams she spun way too soon. The fields tell a story of warm summer days spent sipping cold beers and cold winter nights spent smoking the best pot in the city. Her fields are glazed in the lemony scent of his aftershave and the wild lilac flowers that are reminding her too much of his pillowcases. The sun is beating down now as uncomfortable as his gaze. She can see the edge of the forest now. She is at the end of her field. This is all the running her thoughts can take for now. This is where she pulls herself away from what looms ahead in her head.


One afternoon she catches herself wondering if it is possible to miss something you have never even had. Petrified, she decides to change her life.

She keeps herself busy with tasks that demand her undivided attention and every last reserve of energy. She tries to run a mile everyday to tire enough to sleep instantly at night. She watches movies that do not have even a shred of romance in them. She has given up on music and reads the most unimaginative books. She wonders if she can ever eat a brownie again without missing him again. She does what she must to keep going.

But in the brief moments when her well organized day cracks for a moment to let in the ghosts of the past she mourns silently of what could have been. Her thoughts leap beyond the field to unexplored territory. She mourns for the days she would not wake up next to him. She misses his strong embraces and urgent kisses. She misses the way he would have taken care of the demons knocking away at her in the night. She swallows the tears he would have wiped away. She wonders if they would have ended up having blue curtains or stuck to his white ones. She believes that he would have seamlessly melted into her more intensely than she imagined possible. She muses endlessly on how he would have said her name. She wonders and ponders and stops abruptly when exhaustion or sleep takes her away.

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)”


About the author:

OscarPotterhead is an Indian blogger, aspiring author, Journalism major and wishes she was a dog whisperer/food stylist/ice-cream taster instead. When she is not passive-aggressively stalking good – looking folks across the internet, you can find her obsessively planning her next dream trip. She likes her coffee like her soul – black and bitter. Her boyfriend is just like her Ipad – She doesn’t have an Ipad. Her best friend is her 5-year old Labrador and she has recently taken a liking to war documentaries. 

OscarPotterhead wrote the story inspired by this prompt:


The last stanza of poetry in the story is taken from a Sylvia Plath poem called “Mad Girl’s Love Song“. You should read it, I really liked it!

If you liked the story, comment here or on OscarPotterhead’s blog telling her about it! 
She’d love to know your feedback.

The list of prompts was inspired by this article I happened upon, quite a few have stories written about them so stick around for the rest.

This is the fourth story of a part of a series of stories I’m going to post, which were written by my friends, I talk about it here.

Here’s the previous story, you should check it out!

And here’s the very first one, if you’d like to read that!

I’ll post the next story on the 22nd on January, be sure to check it out!

(Can you believe it is already more than halfway through January? I can’t! I feel like I’m still in 2015, in a way!
This doesn’t happen to me usually… 2016 feels a bit weird.)



I still remember her face as she drifted away. Tears tracing lines down her face, features twisted in despair.

I still remember her arms. Reaching out for me. Fingers outstretched.

I still remember her voice. Calling out to me. Saying she was sorry.

I still remember.

But she doesn’t.


I would like to say that I know, down to the day, how long she has been gone. But time is not the same anymore. Time not spent remembering her is a dull haze.

Time spent thinking about her is painful.

I tried to be happy. Tried to find someone else.

I couldn’t.


I often go camping in the mountains where I met her. She loved being here, in the trees, and heights and fresh air.

She would have loved tonight.

“You are so lucky,” she once said.

“I know,” I replied, wrapping my arms around her.

“No,” she giggled as I nuzzled the crook of her neck. “Not me.  This planet. This sky. You live in a world that is art. Someone must have painted the sky with yellows and grays and blues. Someone who knew that the sky was wonderful and wanted to remind the world how beautiful it was.”

“Did you paint it?”

“I wish. I could never…”

“Why not? You appreciate it more than anyone. You remind every day how wonderful the world is.”

She sighed.

“I’m reminding myself.”

I laughed. “You’re the last person who would ever need reminding.”

I was wrong.


I didn’t believe her when she told me she was from the moon. Who would have?

Who would believe that there was a population on the moon? Neil Armstrong certainly didn’t mention any celestial beings when he made his great leap for mankind.

Granted, I could believe that she was a princess. She was beautiful and graceful and kind, and her voice sang melodies that were both haunting and mesmerizing.

I loved her.

I love her still.


Tonight would be special. Scientists called it a blood supermoon—not only was a lunar eclipse happening, but the moon would be larger in the sky, because it was closer to Earth in its orbit. We both loved stargazing, and we came up here because the mirror-like surface of the lake on the mountain reflected the night sky. Above and below us, only stars.

But there was also the moon. Reflected on the surface of the lake in a stripe instead of a disk.

“It’s like a road,” she murmured once.

“A road to where?”

She smiled wistfully. “A road to the stars.”

“Would you walk down that road?”

“A road to the stars? A path of moonlight?” She asked as if it were a stupid question. Of course she would want that. “No.”

“Why not?”

She kissed me. “You wouldn’t be with me.”

“I’d obviously go with you.”

She hesitated, and then shook her head.

“That is the last thing I would want.”


The people of the moon are much like their home world. Natives of the moon are a cold and hard people. They lived for the purpose of existing.

They are capable of emotion, but they also believe emotion is a vain and useless thing. They had created ways to forget what it was to feel. It didn’t hurt, she had assured me.

But then, the point was that you couldn’t feel anything.


As night fell and the red moon rose into the sky, emptiness began to build up inside me. I didn’t know what I expected. Just because the moon was closer didn’t mean she was closer to me. That I could hold her. Make her remember.

This was a bad idea. The large moon taunted me from where it hung in the sky. Reminding me of where she had gone.

And then I heard it.

Her voice, singing.

My mind may have been playing tricks on me, but I didn’t care. I wanted it to be her. To say she came back. That her people had allowed her to come back. They realized they were wrong to take her away. That she remembered everything.

The singing grew louder, and I cried as the memories resurfaced. Her face. Her smile. The way she looked like the world had everything. The way she looked at me as if I were the world.

The way I knew she was the world.

If she was here, there was only one place where she would be.

I ran to the lake.


She had run away from her home, hoping to understand the blue marble in the sky that she had watched her entire life. She did eventually understand. But fleeing to Earth had consequences.

One was that she learned to love.

Another was that she would lose that love.

She would forget everything.


The red of the moon shone from the surface of the lake. A road of moonlight paved in red. A path to the stars, as large as it could ever be.

No one was there.

I was alone on a mountain, by a lake, missing her.

Her voice, which I had heard so clearly just moments before, gone.

Taking off my shoes and socks, I rolled up my pant legs before walking into the lake. The sand was soft beneath my feet, and I stood ankle deep in the reflection of the moon.

The road of moonlight to nowhere.

I continued to walk in the moon’s reflection, deeper and deeper. No singing, just the sound of water moving out of my way as I waded deeper and deeper. I was in up to my waist when a giggle interrupted the silence.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want you to go on the road to the stars.”


This story was inspired by both Sam’s prompt, “Mangata” the Swedish word for the road-like reflection of the moon in the water, and the Tale of Kaguya, a Japanese folktale about a princess from the moon who goes to live on Earth. Her foster parents set her up as a princess on Earth, living in riches, but in solitude. She becomes acquainted with an emperor, but rejects his advances, because she knows she must return to the moon, where she will forget everything. As she is spirited away, she gives the emperor a vial of the elixir of life, but he orders that it be burned on the tallest mountain with a letter he wrote to Kaguya, in hopes that the smoke would reach her.

My story is a modernization of this tale, where the princess returns.



About the author:

Leanna was destined to be a nerd since birth—she was named after Star Trek’s Deanna Troi after all. Since then, she’s become a nerdfighter, Ravenpuff, avid book reader, Young The Giant fan, and internet addict aspiring to be a writer/scientist. Find her on public transit reading a book and with headphones in her ears. 

Leanna wrote the story inspired by this prompt:


The prompt was beautiful, and I think nobody but Leanna could’ve done it justice.

Maybe I just mean that retrospectively; in any case, I love the story.

This girl has done all the work for me: she’s written the story, written about the story so you know exactly how amazing it is, and she’s written about herself- what’s left for me to do?

Oh well, the usual stuff:

If you like the story, comment here or on Leanna’s blog telling her about it! 
She’d love to know your feedback.

The list of prompts was inspired by this article I happened upon, quite a few have stories written about them so stick around for the rest.

This is the third story of a part of a series of stories I’m going to post, which were written by my friends, I talk about it here.

Here’s the previous story, you should check it out!

And here’s the very first one, if you’d like to read that!

I’ll post the next story on the 18th on January, and it’s amazing, so try not to miss it.

I’m sorry for posting this one a bit late, but yesterday evening after I heard about the sad demise of Alan Rickman I couldn’t function for a while. I really couldn’t bring myself to post the story, even though I pretty much just had to click the Publish button…

He will be missed.


I’ll be the one reading Harry Potter at 80 and answering the question “After all this time?” with an “Always”

*raises wand*

            When Adelaide Brennan had gotten up that morning, she wouldn’t have thought she’d be skipping school, breaking the law and running from ghosts that following afternoon, and all for a girl she had just met.

            Hailey Akiyama she had said her name was, and she had asked Adelaide if she really wanted to go to school, or if she’d rather have an adventure.
            Adelaide had to admit that she had said yes because it had reminded her of Doctor Who, but she had kind of forgotten the more dangerous part of the TV show. You know, the part where you had to run for your life and where there’s the possibility of death. 
            So she had said yes, without even knowing who the girl was. She had never seen Hailey at school before, nor had she heard of her. 
            ‘’Not to be rude or anything, but… Who are you exactly?’’ Adelaide had asked the girl as they made their way through the woods next to the school. Hailey had insisted they’d go that way for several reasons. She even had a list written down, as if she had expected to justify her choice:

1.      If the teachers see us leave, they will come after us and drag our asses back to school

2.      It’s more fun this way

3.      Forests are magical

4.      I thought you wanted an adventure?

5.      All the best adventures take place in magical places like forests

            Adelaide had pointed out that not just ‘the best adventures’ took place in forests; horror movies did too. Hailey had rolled her eyes at that and continued down the path. After a few seconds of silence, in which Adelaide had pondered whether Hailey might be a psychotic murderer, she had decided to ask who the girl was, for better or for worse.
            ‘’I told you already; Hailey Akiyama.’’
            ‘’Yeah, but who are you?’’
            ‘’Jeez, sorry Mr. Caterpillar. Want a hookah with that? I’m Hailey Akiyama, almost sixteen years old. My mom’s from Tokyo and moved to whatever you call this sad excuse for a town when she was twenty-one for love. Romantic right? Yeah, until her ‘big love’ left us when I was eight to go on a ‘big adventure’ like he’s Bilbo Baggins or something. Then we moved back to Tokyo, until Bilbo decided that he didn’t want a big adventure after all, since ‘mom and I were his big adventure’. So here we are, one happy family reunited.’’ Hailey had rolled her eyes so many times during her story that Adelaide thought they’d roll out at some point, but they were still secure in her head. 
            ‘’I’m sorry.’’
            ‘’Don’t be. Anyway, since Daddy dearest is so fond of adventures, I thought I’d try one myself. But adventures on your own are boring. I need my companions, my-‘’
            ‘’Dwarves?’’ Adeilade had asked, feeling insulted.
            ‘’What? No! Why do you- Oh, because of the Bilbo thing. No, dwarves are a nuisance. You can be my handy mage, ready to heal me when I get in trouble. And I will get in trouble.’’
            They had arrived at the end of the forest. 
            Hailey had turned around to grin at Adelaide.
            ‘’I thought ‘all the best adventures take place in forests’? Why are we about to leave it?’’
            ‘’I said like forests,’’ Hailey had pulled away a branch to show an old castle, almost fallen to ruins. ‘’Castles are even more magical.’’
            Adelaide had bitten her lip.
            ‘’Doesn’t someone own that place?’’
            ‘’Nah, it’s abandoned.’’
            ‘’So it’s haunted. Even better.’’
            Hailey had laughed at that. 
            ‘’I like you…Er, what’s your name actually?’’
            Right, Adelaide had never had the time to introduce herself. As soon as she had said yes, Hailey had pulled her towards the forest.
            ‘’Adelaide. Adelaide Brennan.’’
            ‘’Nice to meet you, Mr. Bond,’’ Hailey had grinned as she stepped out of the forest. ‘’Let’s start our mission.’’
            ‘’When did our adventure turn into a mission?’’
            But Hailey had ignored her question.

            The castle had indeed seemed to be abandoned, but that hadn’t calmed Adelaide’s nerves. She had expected someone – or something – to jump out at them from every nook and cranny. Hailey had laughed at her nervousness, but that was before they had arrived in the throne room, where they were currently hiding behind the throne.
            ‘’Ghosts don’t exist.’’ Hailey still claimed, even after they had seen several suspicious shadows that had seemed to chase them as they had run towards the throne room.
            ‘’You believe in dwarves and mages, but not ghosts?’’ Adelaide whispered furiously at the other girl. She had skipped school, probably broken the law by trespassing – she was ninety-nine percent sure that someone owned the castle – and was now hiding from possible ghosts. Her mom would kill her, if the ghosts didn’t get to her first. 
            ‘’I don’t believe in dwarves and mages either!’’ Hailey hissed. ‘’I was just having fun!’’ 
            ‘’Well your ‘fun’ has gotten us into this mess!”
            ‘’You didn’t have to come with me!’’
            Adelaide opened her mouth to retort – even though Hailey was right-, but at that moment the door creaked open slowly. The two girls covered each other’s mouth, looking at each other with wide eyes. 
            Footsteps started to approach. 
            Adelaide felt her heart calm down. Ghosts don’t have footsteps.
            ‘’Hailey Akiyama, get up from behind that throne right now.’’ 
            Adelaide and Hailey looked at each other in surprise. They released each other’s mouth and got up, though Hailey pushed the other girl down again. She held her finger against her lips and turned around the throne.
            ‘’Hi Dad! Hi….who are you?’’
            ‘’This is Mr. Hannigen, the owner of the castle.’’
            ‘’Oh! Well, I’m very sorry Mr. Hannigan. It’s just, I love adventures. It’s a family thing, right Dad?’’
            Adelaide couldn’t see the girl’s expression, but she could guess the look Hailey was giving her father. 
            ‘’Get here, right now.’’
            Adelaide heard the three people leaving the room, and quietly got up herself. When she rounded the throne, she found herself all alone. Great, just great.

            She made her way out of the throne room, hoping to find her way back out of the castle. Hailey, her dad and the owner were nowhere to be seen, which might be a good thing. At least she wouldn’t be in trouble with the law. Though that wouldn’t matter if she never got out of there.
            Adelaide decided that if she walked down the hallway, nothing would be able to go wrong. Oh, how wrong she was. Soon she found herself back in front of the throne room, apparently having gone in circles. 
            She threw her arms in the air in frustration.
            ‘’Great, just great! Any ghosts out there that want to finish me off, so that my day will get even better?’’ 
            A hand fell down on her shoulder, causing her to jump in the air.
            She was greeted by hysterical laughter. Adelaide turned around to find Hailey standing there, holding her stomach and leaning forward. 
            ‘’Oh. My. God!’’ she laughed. 
            Adelaide punched the other girl on the arm. 
            ‘’What the hell is wrong with you?! First you drag me along on your stupid adventure to this stupid castle, then you leave me behind, and then you sneak up on me like that?’’
            Hailey held up her hands.
            ‘’In my defence, you agreed to the adventure, I left you so you wouldn’t get in trouble and I didn’t ‘sneak up on you’. I just walked towards you. You think a simple ‘hi’ wouldn’t have startled you in this place?’’
            ‘’It still would’ve been a better greeting.’’ Adelaide said, still fuming. Hailey rolled her eyes.
            ‘’Come on, let’s get out of here.’’
            ‘’You know the way out?’’
            ‘’’Course I do.’’
            ‘’You promise?’’ 
            They continued on in silence.
            ‘’How did your dad know you were here?’’
            ‘’Uh, the principal called him because I wasn’t at school,’’ Great, Mom probably got a call too. ‘’And Dad kind of guessed where I’d be. Like the castle I’d been talking about recently.’’
            ‘’Seriously? You’re that stupid?’’
            ‘’Oi! I may be stupid, but you followed this stupid person!’’
            ‘’I didn’t even know you! How was I supposed to know you were stupid?’’
            ‘’Er… I suggested skipping school to go on an adventure?’’
            Adelaide sighed.
            ‘’Guess we’re both stupid.’’
            They had arrived at the doors.
            Hailey turned around and grinned.
            ‘’But you’re the stupidest, since you couldn’t even find the exit.’’

            Adelaide glared at her.

            ‘’I’m never going on one of your stupid adventures again.’’

            But that was far from true. Because no matter how scared she had been that afternoon, no matter how mad her mother was at her and no matter how much she had been against skipping school before that day, she hadn’t had that much fun in a long time. From that day on, no matter how much they bickered and complained about each other, they were inseparable. 


About the Author:

Hi I’m Michelle; writer, journalist student, blogger at The Writing Hufflepuff and The Feministas, Hufflepuff, Pokémon Master, Demigod, Waterbender… Basically  a professional fangirl! I hope you’ll enjoy my story 🙂

This story was written by Michelle inspired by this prompt:


It is a word from Mandarin, and Michelle pretty much nailed the expectations I had for a story using this prompt, so yayy!

If you like the story, comment here or on Michelle’s blog telling her about it! 
She’d love to know your feedback.

The list of prompts was inspired by this article I happened upon, quite a few have stories written about them so stick around for the rest.

This is the second story of a part of a series of stories I’m going to post, which were written by my friends, I talk about it here.

Here’s the first story, you should check it out!

I’ll post the next story on the 14th on January, and it’s a beautiful one so I hope you don’t miss it!

P.S. The author would like you to sing the title of the story in your best Anna from Frozen voice (those of you didn’t do that anyway, that is, those of you who’re not me 😛 )


“What do you miss most about your city?”

She almost didn’t hear the question as she gazed into nothingness. She was suddenly jolted back to the present and to reality. It was too crowded, too noisy, too dark, too … everything. She couldn’t think for a minute and seeing her confused expression her friend repeated the question a little louder this time, “I asked what you missed most, about home, I mean.”

Finally, it seemed like she understood the question. Smiling wistfully, she said, “That’s a difficult question, you know. There’s no single thing I miss the most, there are so many. I miss the smells of the city, which change as the city changes. One moment you smell the delicious aroma of roadside bhajjis and wadas, and the next you smell some expensive perfume from the highly sophisticated women walking past, and the very next, you smell garbage and you wrinkle your nose and walk past as quickly as possible, to find yourself smelling something completely different and unknown. I miss the people and the crowds. There are so many people around you that you could never be alone, and yet you are because no one really knows you and it doesn’t always matter what you think or believe in. You might be cursing the people getting in your way when you are running to catch a train that’s leaving in the next minute, and yet, you see an unknown hand extending out of the compartment to pull you in and you take it, you jump in, smile at the stranger and say a quiet thank you, and then push your way through with the possibility of never setting eyes on the stranger again, one of the many faces you are likely to forget and yet, in an odd way, remember too.
“I miss the rains, the smell of the wet earth when it first rains, the constant tap tap on your window and the sloshing around in puddles and getting completely soaked even though you have an umbrella, because umbrellas really don’t help when it rains, really rains, in my city. I miss the sounds. It is so quiet here. When I look out of the window of this apartment, I don’t see people and the cars never honk. There are no firecrackers for no particular reason, and there are no vendors hawking their wares. I would constantly complain about the sounds, the children playing and screaming in the playground, the firecrackers in Diwali, but now I know that it was such an important part of my life. You know, we sometimes don’t appreciate the things that are right there in front of us, staring us in the face.”

Her friend was listening with rapt attention, never having heard her speak so much.
Suddenly realizing that she was looking at her, she quietly nodded.
The wistful look still present on her face, she continued, “I don’t know if you realize how important all this is to me. You might think I am rambling about all the wrong things here, smells, sound, crowds. But it’s true, these are some of the things I miss most about my city. I miss the lights too. My city looks beautiful during Diwali. There are lights everywhere; some of them twinkling, some stationary. There are lanterns in various shapes and when you look outside the window, you see the lights and the lanterns stretching as far as you can see, and you realize that there are people just like you: eating the same kind of sweets, laughing at similar everyday things, fighting about the same things, working just as hard as you do, and facing the same problems as you. It really puts matters into perspective, you know. Don’t take yourself too seriously; you are not alone in anything that happens to you—good or bad. I miss the festivals and the rituals that go with them. It really doesn’t matter whether you celebrate them or not, there are people around you, your family or friends, for whom the festival is important and that makes it significant in your eyes too. “And the food! I really miss the food; the street food—chaatvada pavbhajjidosasidlis, sandwiches—the different sweets, the home cooked food, which you might constantly complain about when at home but start missing as soon as you leave. But, I think what I miss most are the people. When you are at home, you might think that there are too many people around you who interfere in your business, influence your decisions—family, relatives, friends—and then you leave and suddenly there is no one around you to ask whether your decision to do this job or study here is right or wrong. The onus is on you and it can be quite terrifying.”

She laughed silently at this, as if remembering something and shook her head, “I am talking too much. Aren’t you bored already?” But her friend shook her head and laughed. She said, “I am loving this. You know, you’ve been here for two months and I have never seen you talking so animatedly about anything. You really miss your city, don’t you?” She nodded silently, looking at her with eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She was realizing though, that her rant was actually making her feel better. She hadn’t felt so good since coming here, to this foreign country and living amongst foreign people. But then again, it was her choice to come here, to take up this job away from her people and her city; she just didn’t realize that it would be so difficult.

Her friend was looking at her oddly. “What is it?,” she asked her.

“I have just realized something. You know, everything you spoke about—the sounds, smells, lights, people, crowds, everything—it’s all here,” her friend said. “Here?” she asked, incredulous, “What do you mean, here?”

“I mean that you can find all of this here too. Maybe everything’s slightly different, but it’s still here. This is still a city like any other and there are smells, and sounds, and people, and crowds, and food, and lights, and festivals too. The smells are different, you can smell the freshly fallen snow, and the leaves in autumn, you can smell the flowers blooming in spring. And it might not rain all that much here, but every season has something you can enjoy and appreciate. Well, there might not be honking cars and people pushing past each other on the roads, but the metro is just as crowded, the people are, after all, people, with similar lives, similar definitions of happiness and sadness, similar problems. And you might think that with our practise of going abroad or living away from our parents and families, they do not have much of an influence on our lives, but you’d be wrong. You know, people and places are different, sure, but they are still the same. You just have to concentrate on the similarities and accept the differences, and there you have it, a new place to call home.”

Her friend smiled at her and took a sip of her drink. She was surprised, to say the least, because she’d never thought about it like this. But then she nodded too, and smiled, and the tears remained unshed. She had an opportunity and a place to make a new beginning, to call home, and she was going to make the most of it.


About the Author:

First time writer. Works as a content editor for a living. Procrastinator.
Loves (in no particular order): 
Reading,travelling, all things Harry Potter, chocolates, Sherlock, (occasionally) writing, cricket, The Avengers, music, FRIENDS, etc.
Favourite quote(one of many):
Not all those who wander are lost.

This story was written by Tanvi inspired by this prompt:


Beautiful word, isn’t it?
I love the French language!

If you like the story, comment here or on Tanvi’s blog telling her about it!
She’d love to know your feedback.

Oh! And this is Tanvi’s first attempt at writing a short story so it’s a little more special!
I, for one, am proud of her. 😀

The list of prompts was inspired by this article I happened upon, quite a few have stories written about them so stick around for the rest.

This is the first story of a part of a series of stories I’m going to post, which were written by my friends, I talk about it here.

I’ll post the next story on the 10th on January, stay tuned.

It’s one of the cutest stories I’ve read recently- you can’t not love it! 🙂

Without (much) further ado

I must hurry now. I’ve procrastinated too much already.
There’s a thing I have to tell you.
As soon as possible, if I do not wish die a most painful death at the hands of Tanvi (among others?).

I don’t blame her.
I’m a month late, and if I was in her place, I’d be equally, if not more, excited and impatient.

I apologise for the delay Tanvi, hope you find it in your heart to forgive me.

And yes, I shall get to the point now.
But wait!
Must do the pleasantries.

Happy New Year, everyone!
Here’s wishing you the most prosperous and fulfilling new year, hope you get up on the right side of the bed each morning (unless your bed’s in a corner, like mine, in which case, there’s really only one way, isn’t there?), get the exact presents you want on your birthday (but in a way that you’re still surprised) and are blessed with a speedy internet connection so you have no problems enjoying my blog posts!

December 2014 was a great month for me, and for a change, I knew it then as well (because you know? You mostly feel that times were “good” retrospectively?).

Blogging wise as well it was my best month till date according to the stats page (2015 was a pretty lousy year, blogging wise).
Even otherwise, it was one of my favourite months to be a blogger because my fellow writer friends wrote short stories for my blog, and it was amazing because all of them are so talented and I felt really proud of them all posting here, and basically, it was so much fun!

I wasn’t planning on doing it the next year (which was 2015) (and technically, I didn’t), but somewhere in the middle of the year I happened upon this amazing list of prompts and I couldn’t resist!
So I thought, why not?
I contacted all of my friends, a few new ones, and told them about the prompts!

They were, once again, enthusiastic about doing this.
In fact, Leanna, when I first emailed her about this, replied with:

Hey Sam! 
As always, I’m in! 

So yes! She’s writing too, look out for her story.

Now, I should’ve done this in December- I was supposed to.
But I’m not going to bore you with my reasons for being a month late, especially because they’re all very stupid.
But I’m here now, and we’re doing this!
I can’t think of a better way to start the year.

When do I start posting the stories?
That’s a good question!

Whose story shall be up first?
That’s another good one!

Hey, let me answer that one, seeing as to how I just came up with an answer:
Let’s start with Tanvi’s!

Yay! That’s settled then!
Tanvi is new to the whole short story thing, but her story is still wonderful, you’ll love it!

I’ll post it in the next few days, and as Mr.Holmes aptly puts it,
“The stage is set. The curtain rises. We are ready to begin.”

(If I was the non-rambly kind, I’d stop there and let those words echo a bit, but I’m not- and anyway I’m too excited not to discuss the Christmas Special! Leave comments telling me your thoughts about it!!! Non-spoilery comments though- don’t want people getting spoilt.)

(Oh hey, one more thing, if you are interested in reading the stories from last year- they’re all amazing- you can do that by going to the category “Fiction” and they’re all there so yeah, check them out, you’ll enjoy!)

After my previous attempt at trying to get back to blogging siriusly (well of course you didn’t know it was that!), I almost lost hope.
I was like, ‘Nope! Not gonna happen!
I guess the blogging phase of my life has come to an end and I should accept it now.’

But I guess it wasn’t, because then I saw that people were still reading my blog…
I was getting views in spite of not having updated for a month!

Then I told myself, it’s not over yet!
Look you cannot just abandon this!
Try again, just try again!

So here I am.
I’m going to start with some good news- it’s old news now but it’s good news, and more importantly, news that’s unknown to quite a few of you.

*drumroll because most things lack drama right now and I could do with some*

I was the first runner up in the blogging competition I had participated!

You know the one I’m talking about right?
It was called BloCo (short for Blogging Contest).

Surely you remember it?
I have been pestering you about going there and reading my posts and whatnot!

So yes!
I won that!

Yayy for me!


My posts are still there, if you wanna check out the award winning stuff, you can follow the links from my blog (right here) to that one.
But that’s not what I’m here for now, am I?

New Year will be here soon.
Hope you have a great one!

So what’s everyone doing?
I don’t know about you guys but, to me, it doesn’t feel like a new year is approaching at all!
There’s an overall lack of enthusiasm, motivation or resolutions whatsoever.

Christmas didn’t feel like Christmas either until 3 days later when I received a card from my absolutely awesome penpal Leanna (I’m linking to her blog here but the blog doesn’t even begin to cover the response to “How awesome is she then?”)



Oh but come on! I don’t know why I’m being such a buzzkill when the very month we are in right now was pretty awesome for me!

You know what’s in December where I live?

And of course I went!
(Now that I’ve remembered about this, let me just babble excitedly for a while)

At last year’s Comic Con (which was my first ever), I met Mark Gatiss and he signed a thing for me, and I met loads of friends and saw amazing cosplays and I was a bit wary this year because I didn’t know how I could top all that (yes, I am feeling the overall increased levels of pessimism in my approach towards life too, let’s not talk about that- at least not now when I’m in Comic Con mode).
But guess what?
It was pretty cool too.

Some really amazing things happened!

I met Gavin Aung Than of Zen Pencils fame, I interacted with him thrice!

I was extremely excited to meet him and I am so glad I did!!!
I had painted him a picture (from his own comics really, but yeah) and he took it!
That was pretty cool!


The thing I painted for him 🙂

I also bought one of his books (it was literally the last copy on the table, can you frikkin’ believe that? ALL his books were sold out! I was lucky to grab the last copy!) and he was nice enough to then sign it! 😀



There’s a poster inside it but it’s huge and I don’t wanna spoil or damage it until I decide where I’m gonna put it up, and so I haven’t removed it from the book yet.
I’m also really excited about that!

Also, if you guys don’t know Zen Pencils, I highly recommend it- it is one of the most inspirational websites I’ve come across on the internet, and for the past 2 years it has, directly or indirectly, motivated me countless times!

I bought a Game of Thrones T-shirt, which I then wore at the first opportunity I got so excuse the wrinkles (although I’m not sure they really show in the picture…?)


I bought other merch as well, fandom badges and stuff, might put pictures of that here later… I don’t know!

I made new friends at Comic Con, met at least 3 people who had cosplayed as Arthur Dent from Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and it made me really, really happy because, like, I didn’t know Hitchhiker’s fans existed in my city!
How crazy amazing is that?!?
My only regret is that I didn’t think to befriend them- Comic Con is just a whirl of events actually.
Rest of the year is completely uneventful for me and then it’s like they suddenly need to complete the quota of exciting-events-per-year in December, and Comic Con is convenient so that’s when they bombard me with eventful stuff!

I should stop talking about Comic Con now, since there’s 11 months to go for the next one and we don’t wanna get excited so early!

Which brings me back to the impending doom upcoming New Year!

I don’t have any resolutions, there’s usually no point to those- there used to be a point to my Goodreads’ Reading Challenge (the only thing that there used to be a point to) but after this year, I’m not really sure about that either.

I strongly discourage you from looking me up on Goodreads, it is utterly shameful and I’ll never be able to show you my face again if you’ve been on my Goodreads: for one thing, what few books I have read in the past 12 months, I haven’t updated- because that’s the kind of person I am now!

But there is one thing I’m looking forward to in 2016 (if things go according to plan, and I’ll try my best to see that they do.)

This will be in January itself- again, if things go according to plan.

I had sort of decided to write about it in this post itself, but the after-Comic Con madness happened so wait for it…

Been a while since I blogged and a lot has happened in all that time.
Now I may or may not actually do a catching up post later, but I could always mention things randomly when I’m talking about something that’s related.
In that spirit, here’s a sort of funny thing that happened during this in-between time.
It’s something I would’ve blogged about immediately if I was doing the blogging thing regularly then.

Although maybe not immediately, since I realised the thing while I was in the shower.
What’s it with shower thoughts anyway?
How is it that they’re always quirkier/deeper/more epiphanous (don’t you love the word “epiphanous”? Lately I’ve started liking it more than “epiphany” even)/in general very different from and often better than the thoughts we have outside of the shower-time and -place?
I’m sure somebody has conducted a study on this and I could find it if I bothered to Google, but eh!

Actually wait…
Let me!
Because if I don’t procrastinate, who will?


Here we go BTW:

Why our best ideas come to us in the shower

Having rambled enough, let me tell you the thing now.


I realised that the line in the song “The Bird and the Worm” by Owl City that goes

Then we’ll take a long walk
Through the cornfield
And I’ll kiss you
Between the ears


I literally facepalmed at my stupidity!
I’ve heard that song at least 99 times before this time that I realised the pun thing. Like wow! 
In spite of knowing that Owl City has songs like Rugs from me to you and Dental Care (So many puns! So many of them!), I did not catch this one before.

Also, ever since I realised it, I haven’t been able to listen to the song without going “PUN!” everytime the line is sung in the song. And it’s been a lot of times now.
But nope!
I haven’t stopped.

Now every time the song comes on, in the beginning itself I’m like, “I’m going to point out to myself that the cornfields thing is a pun, aren’t I? This is not going to be the time I actually stop doing that, is it?
Thought so!”

When I overdo things, like this, I’m worried I’ll stop liking the song, or worse, the artist.
But that hasn’t happened this time round, I still love The Bird and The Worm.
In fact, I’m mostly just excited to hear the song.

And I obviously love Owl City a lot.
Adam Young is my go-to artist.

Like, you know, when random people ask me what music I listen to, and they’re going to, very specifically, either see if we have something in common, or maybe judge me based on the music, I tell them Owl City.
I usually avoid telling generic people the obscure stuff I listen to.
I’m not ashamed, that’s not it.
They’re not going to be interested in knowing that I listen to Hank Green songs, or every single song from the AVPM trilogy- so I might as well not tell them.

Speaking of punny stuff and nerdy stuff and musicky stuff, I can’t not mention Hank Green’s Mules are so half-ass (I especially love the way he’s made the video. Hank just never fails to amuse me).

This is my favourite punny song!
I honestly don’t know why people don’t like puns very much, I love them!
It’s wordplay and it’s funny!
What’s not to like!

I feel there should be more nerdy music in the world!
I need more geeky, nerdy music for myself!!

Do suggest artists and/or songs that you know of, who have loads of nerdy music- I’ll be forever grateful.

I guess that’s all for now.
I’ve done a fair bit of rambling in this post… Aah well! It’s been a while.

How have you been?
Good to see you still hanging around here.

Don’t be that person who’s reading everything in a group chat and not saying anything.
That guy (or girl) is always creepy.

Leave a comment!

Have a conversation with me down below so I know I’m not just shouting furiously typing into the void or whatever.

(But then again, aren’t we all?)

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