Fall from Grace

As I stood rooted to the spot, pairs in cinematic love flung themselves at me, twirled around me coyly and played hide and seek using me, usually to the beat of some music.

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Shades of Green

He was finding it hard to chew the blandness down his throat. His taste buds were crying foul, they attempted to throw some of the vegetation back, but he kept gulping water to wash them down.

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Minor character

I whisper among the plastic chairs that house the AD’s and the scriptwriters. My cries of loneliness echo the walls of the caravans that house the actors.

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Journey to the End

Elsewhere, possibly in South India, the piercing scream of  “Last Order” catapulted a bunch of drunks into a passionate calculation. One would think it was the end of the world, the way they sprung into action.

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