This year's theme is a story divided amongst 26 posts. Fear not though, the pieces can also be read as stand along flash/poetry.
“I know it's some rich, spoiled brat.” Maryam says, unable to control her anger over the accident that took the lives of five innocent, homeless kids. I try to tell her that things like these are commonplace in our country. She fumes and mutters all the way to the flyover, under which the accident happened and under which we were going looking for stories for our assignment.
The group of kids that greets us here is different. They are quiet, the deaths of their peers still hanging about in the air. They don't ask us for money. They don't rush towards us. They sit silently in groups and watch us; a dozen glassy eyes weighing our every movement. Attempts at conversation are met with a frosty silence. Attempts to bribe the story out of them are met with glares. Soon enough Maryam realizes the fruitlessness of it all and suggests we return.
Halfway back, she remembers something and tells me to wait while she rushes back. Fifteen minutes later she comes running, slightly out of breath.
Day 2, wasted.
Intrigued? You can read the story till now by clicking M's tab above. Drop a comment and tell me what you think. Leave a link to your blog and I'll visit you soon.