flash fiction – Page 2 – scribbles and stories

The boxes of memories were piled up. High, one on top of the other. Behind the cartons, through the uncurtained windows, we could see the city skyline. It was different from the provincial view which had welcomed us a day, a week, a month, a year, several years before.

Something inside me crumbled as I realized how transitory time really was and how nothing remained permanent. We were in a new place now. A new season had opened up before us.

* * *

An empty carton lies in front of me. Several more needing assembly sit behind me. I start putting several items in — necessities like kitchenware, towels, and tablecloths. We should have disposed all of those stuff during the first move. But they did contain a lot of sentimental value. And you’ll never know when there’ll be a need for one dining set or more.

We’re moving again. I shall see those boxes piled on top of each other yet another time.

Turn to your co-workers, kids, Facebook friends, family — anyone who’s accessible — and ask them to suggest an article, an adjective, and a noun. There’s your post title! Now write.

Gentle Giant, they called him. Six-foot-five with big burly biceps but with the heart of a seven-year-old child, the large man was an oxymoron personified. Well-meaning folks said that he should have taken up wrestling. Better-meaning ones, knowing his timid nature, speculated that he might have been better suited for heavy machinery lifting. But Pablo — tired of all the weights and workouts — went against all societal expectations and dove into the field of medicine.

Pablo was a doctor and a good one at that. He was already on his way to making the five-year-mark of his pediatric career and had a dozens of faithful patients supporting him, ready to give good reports. He often had difficulty interacting with the parents but when it came to the children — it was as if he wielded magic. He put frightened little ones at ease, he put the antsy ones on their best behaviours, and he made sure all the kids went out of his clinic with bright smiles painted on their faces.

He knew he wouldn’t have left a mark on peoples hearts that great if he took up wrestling or heavy machine lifting.

Pablo didn’t care what people thought. The timid doctor just reflected over what his muscular heart beat for and followed it.

Thank you, Jays, for the article, the adjective, and the noun! :D

via http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/02/daily-prompt-mad-libs/

Tag: flash fiction

Boxes

Post a Week: A Timid Doctor