An idea, a thought, an anecdote, a story or a poem a day!

Tikku had been playing with only a couple of his toys, only the new ones, these days. His new shiny trucks, And his cool bat and cricket ball.  His old toys kept in his toy box were getting a bit bored. So one day they all decided to have a meeting to discuss the politics of selection, mainly the what, the why  and the who gets to be Tikku's favourite,  type questions.  The most vocal was the dog eared book, and the quietest one was the old ball, faded and a bit pinched. They all sat in the box cramped up and were quite fed up!  They all said.  The book📚 fluttering with rage, the cover pages were flushing red, and on every page, there was a word of anger.  Why What Who How When  Where??? The ninja turtle 🐢 which no longer had a long tail 😳 was trying to pacify it by answering these questions. Yes we all love Tikku. Yes, we are neglected. No we don't know why Oh may be we know.  Shrieked the little spider 🕷 man.  Yes, there are new toys all the time.  Tikku gets a new toy ev

I saw you last night  when you suddenly appeared on the terrace,  like a moon, Stuck by the purity of your beauty,  I forgot to admire the beauty  of the moon.

  If you could say one thing to every single person in the world right now to foster unity rather than division, what would it be? January Writing Prompts for The Happy Human | by Luba Sigaud | The Happy Human | Dec, 2021 | Medium

The tree was measured and taped, with the bright, cheap yellow coloured tape.  Its branches still free to roam the sky, at least up to where they reached,  its stem looking a bit withered,  its bark, showing many more wrinkles.

  The Party at the House The House was warm with the roaring fire and the free-flowing booze, and the power tussle between the Chief and his deputy, who had decided to lose his wig and the ruby collar pin, at some stage. It was the winter waltz at the House, and the Chief dressed as a wolf, with the rest of his cronies in their black leather jackals sorry jackets and vegetable green bows, pinned with black on their snow-white shit sorry shirt collars were dancing. while the intoxicated staffer’s body as cold as a snowflake was lying on the floor of a forgotten back room.    It was the winter waltz, and the Chief had decided to come dressed as a wolf, while the rest of the coccus had donned their uniform, black leather jackets and vegetable green bows, pinned with black and gold brochures, sorry, I meant broaches on snow-white shit collars. The House was warm with the roaring fire, and the power tassel sorry, the tussle between the head of the House and his deputy, who had decided t

  Your story must include a tree. Your story must include something being taped. Your story must include the words DANCE, SEARCH and CHANGE She opened the door which refused to budge. It seemed to be locked from outside, 

  Here are this round’s challenge criteria: Your story must include a tree. Your story must include something being taped. Your story must include the words DANCE, SEARCH and CHANGE. Feel free to interpret these criteria in any creative way you like – the more original the better! The three required words can be longer but the original spelling must be retained (e.g., “DANCEr”, “reSEARCH” or “CHANGEd”). Your story must be 500 words or fewer (hyphenated words count as just one) and the winning story will earn its talented author $500AU. We also love seeing you share the fun throughout the weekend by tagging #furiousfiction in your Twitter and Instagram updates. You have 55 hours. The clock is ticking.

It was a day in winter, just about to snow, and I couldn’t find the pen I had been given by Martin, the Dutch tourist, who had come to stay with us in summer. My first parker pen! I had opened every drawer, every cupboard in the house, even the one’s I wasn’t supposed to know about. I was worried about my forthcoming exams, but also excited about the prospect of going to college, as if I passed, rather when I passed. And I wanted to write my exam with that pen, my lucky pen! And I had opened the door to the guest room, and my scream had suddenly choked in to my throat, it was not the big spider hanging right at the door that was the reason, but what was in the room. I screamed, and not who, actually what was in the room, that was the reason for it .

Blue it is said is the colour of wisdom the poison that Shiva gulped down to save the world turned him blue,  yes knowledge can do that to you. The blue, the colour of those flowers the iris Yes, that grew out of my silence, To cove the  those were the sacred rites of my passage taking me to that street paved with secrets, and lies!