Gunfire

 The music was slow at first, melodious, soothing, slowly transitioning into the slow grunge, thrashing guitars, the peddles doubling on the bass drum, and the sickening chime of the crash. A headache greeted me, as my senses flowed in slowly, first a blur of a light, blinding ofcourse, then the scene unfolding. I was disoriented, and the heavy metal playing in the background din't help much either. "I am not drinking any more", those were the only thoughts which I could care about at that time as I sat nursing a throbbing head. The hangover was bad. I could coin a new definition for bad. It was that bad.

"You are finally up, it was a blaaaaaast man, and you were crazy"...

I tried hard to recognize the owner of those words, "And who on earth are you?", I blurted out.

She laughed, a giggle or a cackle, I could not differentiate, the headache sure was deafening.


"I do not except any less from you. Here drink, this should help", she handed me a cup.

I took a sip, bitter.

I took another sip, "coffee"; my brain echoed.

"There's breakfast on the table, I am heading out for a while." The door closed as she exited the room.

I don't know how long she was gone for, but my mind bounced around, fading in and out of the throbbing headache.

The coffee started to kick in, as the room cleared into view. A rustic living room, an art piece over the sofa, and food on the table. My interest piqued as my stomach grumbled, and It sure was a good sandwich.

She returned some where around noon, I was still on the sofa, fighting the last bit of the hangover. "We have pizza for lunch", she declared as she entered the room. Three boxes of pizzas neatly arranged on the table.

I should admit, I sure was hungry, but there were more pressing issues to be addressed before I could enjoy a scrumptious meal.

"And you would be???", Her face sure was puzzled as I directed this question onto her.

"We spend the night together. I am your date"

Her sound echoed as my head grew heavy, and darkness.


The music was slow at first, melodious, soothing, slowly transitioning into the slow grunge, thrashing guitars, the peddles doubling on the bass drum, and the sickening chime of the crash. A headache greeted me, as my senses flowed in slowly, first a blur of a light, blinding ofcourse, then the scene unfolding. I was disoriented, and the heavy metal playing in the background din't help much either. "I am not drinking any more", those were the only thoughts which I could care about at that time as I sat nursing a throbbing head. The hangover was bad. I could coin a new definition for bad. It was that bad.

"You are finally up?"...

I tried hard to recognize the owner of those words, "And who on earth are you?", I blurted out.

She was annoyed, she grumbled or cursed,  I could not differentiate, the headache sure was deafening.


"I do not except any less from you. Here drink, this should help!!", she handed me a cup.

I took a sip, bitter.

I took another sip, "coffee"; my brain echoed.

"There's breakfast on the table, I am heading out for a while." The door closed as she exited the room.

I don't know how long she was gone for, but my mind bounced around, fading in and out of the throbbing headache.

The coffee started to kick in, as the room cleared into view. A rustic living room, an art piece over the sofa, and food on the table. My interest piqued as my stomach grumbled, and It sure was a good sandwich.

She returned some where around noon, I was still on the sofa, fighting the last bit of the hangover. "We have pizza for lunch !!", she declared as she entered the room. Three boxes of pizzas neatly arranged on the table.

I should admit, I sure was hungry, but there were more pressing issues to be addressed before I could enjoy a scrumptious meal.

"And you would be???", Her face sure was puzzled as I directed this question onto her.

"We live together !. I am your wife !"

Her annoyance echoed as my head grew heavy, and darkness.

The music was slow at first, melodious, soothing, slowly transitioning into the slow gurgle. It soon transitioned into a screeching bugle,  approaching its end of life. A headache greeted me, as my senses flowed in slowly, first a blur of a light, blinding ofcourse, then the scene unfolding. I was disoriented, and the blaring alarm in the background din't help much either. "I am not drinking any more", those were the only thoughts which I could care about at that time as I sat nursing a throbbing head. The hangover was bad. I could coin a new definition for bad. It was that bad.

"You are finally up?"...

I tried hard to recognize the owner of those words, "And who on earth are you?", I blurted out.

A baton to my gut was the answer to that question.

"The idiot is up with his routine."

The guard walked away throwing in a plate of bread and some beans...

The Resident of The Nap Room

I am usually not the kind of person to take a nap during work hours, but, today was different. Mondays were never my cup of coffee, that too after a long night of partying. I should have called in sick, but my guilt din't let me to, and here I was three hours into the day, guiltier and sleepier, trying to grab a shut eye.

I found it difficult to keep my eyes peeled, and get some work done. Instead all I got was half awake slumber, which made me even more tired than before. May be the idea of sleeping on work table was not a good idea to begin with. 'Why don't you take the rest of the day off, or go sleep somewhere else', I heard my colleague chime in from across the table, and the guilt just became my only emotion. Nap room became my next destination, and I left the table for good this time.

'There was a bed!!', I exclaimed in my head, 'Well duh, its a nap room for nothing'. I got my self comfortable on the bed, after flinging off the shoes to one side, and closing the door shut tight. Sleep was just minutes away, and soon I drifted.

My rest in the nap room was a short lived affair. I thought I heard a scream, or a cry for help, as I jolted out of my sleep. I strained my ears - in the half dazed state, to discern what the sound was. That is when I heard the knock. At first it was a soft thump, which soon turned into a loud bang. Another bang, and my eyes were wide open. It took a while for my eyes to get used to the darkness in the room. Another loud thump on the door got me scrambling up on the feet. I frantically scrambled for the light switch, and after a while of groping around in the dark I found the switch. My heart was racing by now, first, to be woken up by a scream, and then a the bang on the door. I slowly approached the door, and placed my ears flat on the wooden boards. hopping to discern what the source of the sound was. Once I was sure there was nothing to be afraid of, I cautiously twisted thee door knob. The lock clicked and the door creaked. I pulled on the door carefully.

At first I was not so sure of what I had seen, and after making sure the door really was open, I tried to feel the layer of bricks that lined the outside of the door frame, just to make sure what I saw was what I felt. It felt real, the coarse earthy texture of bricks, with the coarse sand mixed mortar. The door opened to a wall. I could feel my spirit panic, as tiny beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I closed the door back again, closed my eyes shut and opened the door again, hoping it to be an imagination of a sleep deprived mind. I held my eyes shut while I opened doors for the second time, but, the wall decided to stay where it had originally manifested itself. I tried banging and punching the wall, and in the last bit of terror, resorted to kicking. Nothing budged it, nothing moved it.

I had to keep calm, and think. 'Its just a nightmare, and it will pass', I kept repeating to myself. Once I was sure that my fear was in control, I started thinking about the ways in which I could exit the nightmare. I tried the age old technique of pinching my self awake, and once I realized that it was of no use apart from inflicting pain on my self, I scanned the room for alternate exits. My search for an exit led me to a fire extinguisher by the bed side. I found it to be a tad bit heavier than I had imagined it to be, but it served as a good hammer. The brick wall buckled under the continued blows from the fire extinguisher, first a brick loosened and slowly I could feel the entire wall shake and peal off. One brick at a time, one row at a time, and down came the entire wall falling to the ground. I was relieved to see the wall crumble. I did expect to see a glean of light, but the room, which the broken wall led to was pitch black. I existed the nap room, into the darkness, not sure of what I would encounter further, and slowly groped around in darkness. I was hopping to find an exit, a light switch, or at least a clue as to where I was. After a while of prodding around I chanced upon a handle which seemed like a door knob. I tried the handle, twisted it around a bit, but the door was as adamant as I was. I let the door be, and continued the search, moving farther away from the only light source, which peered from the broken wall of the nap room. The air around me started to get heavier and colder, and I saw that I was pretty far from the only comfort in this nightmare, the bed in the Nap room. My search for an exit in the darkness was cut short by the rattling of a chain. I decided to retreat to the nap room. As my strides became faster, the rattling of the chains became louder. My sprint gave way to a dash as I leapt towards the nap room. I could see the light peering from the crack of the wall. The hope rose in me, to find safety in the Nap room, but that hope soon gave way to despair, as I saw the hole in the wall shrinking. Each of the bricks which I had pulled out from the wall started to fly back into their place, and soon the last ray of light was blocked as I approached the wall. The last brick slid straight into its place, and I was left with nothing but pitch darkness. The rattling of the chain grew louder and suddenly it stopped. I sat cuddled on the floor against the wall, pacing my breath, and the only other sound was that of my pounding heart, I hoped the nightmare would end, and I closed my eyes, but it had a different plan. I felt cold breath against my face and I could hear a laboured breathing as nightmare breathed straight onto my face, cold and sinister. I curdled closer to my self, and my panting had turned to sobs now. Soft sobs, as I lay uncertain of what would happen, until a cold hand grasped me, a cold and tight grip.  I let out a scream, and started frantically clawing and banging on the wall just hopping the nightmare to end. The cold hands that held me dragged me away from the wall, and a despaired scream escaped my being.

The scream was still ringing in my ears, as I opened my eyes, and the familiar sight of the Nap room slowly cleared itself into my sight. 'Bloody freaking nightmare!', I sighed to my self, as my heart pounded like a blacksmith's hammer. My throat was parched dry, and the clear sign of a dehydrated sleep were abound. I decided to end the debacle at the Nap room. I collected my stuff from the room, and opened the door, which seemed locked at first, but after a little fiddling with the knob, it clicked opened.

We all have that phase in our life, where we get optimistic with nightmares, I believe, I too got optimistic with mine, and as for my spirit, it sank inside me, my heart skipped a beat and the cold perspiration found their way back onto my forehead, as I opened the door.

The red bricked wall, greeted my eyes.

The Death of a Star

Lillium's Journal

15th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

I just landed on an ancient orbiter by the name Europa, to witness one of the most historic events in my lifetime. Even between hyper jumps I am so exited to see this historical event. My body cries from gravitation drag, but my spirit lives on. I was asked to hibernate for a while, but you know how supper excited I am.

I had read about this giant star from my history lessons, and how an ancient religious entity by the name of Stephen Einstein had predicted the end. Their theories have been long proven wrong, and I just can't believe how dumb witted  people are to believe in some stupid theory as theirs. Any way, continuing with my journal, I have the most priced seat, and the grand collapse is underway. Its similar to the one back during the dis-integration of Terra. It was a beautiful scene back then, the planet breaking away piece by piece as it was sucked straight into the red giant. Thanks to the hypervisors though, else I would have missed everything back then.

16th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

Yesterday was a disappointing day, I did see the red giant grow bigger, splashing of its gravitational energy, but you know how slow these things are. I hope to see it turn to a dwarf at-least today.

Since I don't have any more stuff to write about today as the Red Giant just refuses to disintegrate, I will just write about the history of this red giant.
This red giant is called the VT139. It was called as Sun by the pre-historic species known as Homo Sapiens. VT139 had enough energy to fuel an entire planets need, unlike us who require three stars to fuel our energy needs. VT139 was a Nano planetary system, with its third planet having the highest probability of survival. Homo sapiens predominantly lived on Terra, the third planet, before shifting out into other star systems. ( I know, I am a big nerd ). Any way, thats all the history lesson for today, I am off to hibernate. The gravitational drag is finally acting up on me.

17th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

The same spot, and the same scene of a slow death. The giant seems to be emitting bursts of radiation. It is a beautiful sight, multi colored rays of protons shooting from the red giant. My com is active with data, many of which are statuses from others in the arena.

And finally after a long wait the Carbon collapse has started. The last of the helium atoms are compressing down into carbon. There was panic in the crowd as the gravitation pull of the Red Giant started to de-stabilise. Electro-magnetice flares could be seen every where on the surface of Europa.
I just hope the gravitational collapse doesn't hamper my pods. The TRS has already placed loop jumpers to puncture the Singularity-State for yet another hyper jump bridge. The time window is really small, but these guys are pros. My brother was on one of these missions once. He was more of a feed compressor though, but he did super magnificently explain how the hyper jump bridge forms within one millionth of a second.

The broadcast was the last thing I was hoping for. Thats all for today the TRS say. It seems they are trying to put up a EM field shield around the Singularity-Point. Its night for me I guess. Another day, another adventure.

18th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

The coms have all gone active. VT139 is on its final collapse, and one of the most beautiful of those. The Singularity-Crush. I had seen photon-graphs of those, but this is the first time I would be seeing one up so close. A single burst of the last escaping ray of light as the entire mass just becomes a big dark hole.

Fading Lights

The days labour paid, She folded her feathery palms,
Walked the long way back, Into the night, she disappears.

The blue of the night shone through her eyes,
Fading into the night, she hums the lullaby of a lost sleep.

A drop of ink smudged on her pearly face, She lays, dreams,
Inkblots dance on the white canvas of her being.

Circle of life, drawn out from the darkness into light,
As the dream drifts off, into the realms of nightmare.

She twists, she turns, sleep doesn't let go,
A flutter of uneasiness settles,  into an invisible prison of sleep

The sleep tarries a bit, swooning her with its wicked gaze,
Then lashing down with its claws, It tears her dreams.

In the end, the inkblot spreads, covering the white,
In the end, darkness wails, as the curtains fall to a fading light.

Insomnia

My dreams spake to me, in the riddled morning sunlight,
Clamoured by the knights shinning armour, it spoke,
"Shiny", my little voice echoed, shiny indeed.

My dreams spake to me, clearing its voice it spoke,
The devil's hour is upon your soul, sleep, the little voice echoed,
"The darkest hour foresees a sunshine", I replied.

My dreams spake to me, chanting mystic words of a world lost,
As the seven colours played, dwarfs in the plot of the White,
The Evil Queen resumed her verbose with the mirror, sleep the mirror did.

My dreams spake to me, shivers, cold, the mind games played,
The balance unhinged, darker powers spooked by the purple Jedi,
The metal has lost its sheen, rapped by the dubbed steps of pain.

My dreams spake to me, shivers,  I feel a disturbed force,
Fear me for the force is strong on my side, I am the chosen one, he says
She slapped, I slapped, he slapped, the words play their parts.

My dreams spake to me, sleep is the mistress I long to forget,
For my love lays in my arms, sleep lurking by the edges,
I want to sleep, but she my life(Oh, mind the rhyme), has different plans.

My dreams spake to me, falter I did, cheat I did, suffer I did,
The truth spoke higher than the dreams, engulfed in the darkness,
Sleep my mistress, my long forgotten love, seconded by knowledge.

Knowledge, my life long strife.

What If...

It was one of those beautiful mornings,

When he last spoke, 

'Mother, I feel lonely', he had said,

My nature took over, 

'Your life, your rules', I finished the thread.

It was one of those beautiful mornings,

When the knock came to my doors,

A letter he held, between his fingers,

'Ma'am, your son, he killed himself'

The world crashed, 'What if', the thought lingers.

It was one of those lovely evenings,

I heard the ring of the phone,

The dipping sun, beauty of the twilight,

I ignored the constant ring, annoyed I cursed,

The twilight grew into a cold night.

It was one of those lovely evenings,

When my father opened the letter,

'I tried to talk, but there was no one home',

'I am lost', my father couldn't read no more,

The world crashed, 'What if',  I had just answered the phone.

It was one of those silent nights,

The ring broke my sleep, and I answered,

'Can I talk to my sister', he pled,

'She is asleep', I ignored with a retort,

The night was a bliss, into my dreams I fled.

It was one of those silent nights,

When her mother wrote,

'Your brother is dead', she would write,

My life stood still, and guilt played her tune,

'What if' I had woken her up, that night.

- Tim
Inspired by a post in 9gag

The Perfect Crime

Whats the perfect crime,
He asked, with a twinkle in his eye,
I was perturbed, taken aback,
Why do you ask? I chimed in,
Just a passing frenzy, was his reply.

I do not know, I retorted,
A lier you are, he giggled a tease,
Well, if you ask, I may,
But alas, I can't satisfy your quest,
Thats perfect,  a smile of unease.

What is that bothers me the most,
His question was to the point,
I guess, my indifference,
A smile played, as he stared,
I guess he was clairvoyant.

And I saw the reason behind his smile,
The perfect crime, he replied, 
Is the one you never get caught with,
And his smile turned grey,
As every happy memory of me died.

The perfect crime, is to forget you,
Erase your existence, his words I feared,
And before my eyes, I ceased,
I ceased to exist, with every laughter,
The perfect crime, he sighed, as I disappeared. 



- Tim

The Photograph

"Rest my child, sleep, dream and fade away ..."

Eyes, candy blue, shimmer, and fade,

Hair a mystic yellow, winds down the neck,

The pale white frock, dirty, hand made,

Imprints, faint await every call and beck.

Lips a pouty red, crack and creak,

Pale stained teeth, age never gone, 

Cheeks a faint blush to hide and seek,

Chin damped with lines, yes they frown.

Fingers, they point and dangle around,

Chipped nails covered, with painted blue,  

Hands which never knew no bounds,

Mystique clouds, future of a hidden hue.

Broken toy, a doll with no head,

Cradled along with her dainty sight,

A half torn sheet of poem never read,

Petals crumbled, leaves rotten over night.

Shriveled legs, bleak, but they do hold up, 

In a picture frame, dull with age,

The dusty shoe, of a kid who never grew up,

A casket in ground, a half written page.

The Nightmare

Cradle my thoughts, 
Shine, brandish the little fear,
Make it your own, 
Make me your little nightmare.

I walk, I stay, trying to find the steps,
My legs slip, I fly, I fall,
Night my shelter, 
Scared my soul, pumping hard, my heart.

Screech my brains, 
Scars of a past so blunt,
Fumes of sulfur, yellow thick,
I lay, clutching my head.

Wake me up, 
Before the night runs out,
The hands that follow my scream,
I am lost, I am just another dream.

Cradle the thought, 
Raise a dead child, 
Never let it see the light, 
Never it live outside your nightmare.

Man with three shoes.

Follow the waters' trail,

Winding in the sun, 

Snakes of the brood, return,

Return to your home.

Who walks there?

Below the green ridge,

Blossoms, to the right, 

I see it pale old but bright,

The tree, rooted in my heart.

Who walks there?

I who have seen the stars,

And have traversed the sea,

I who have won the hearts,

And slain with mercy,

Who walks there?

The night of the future,

Light, I presume, fades.

Jades of the castles fallen,

Why should I wait.

Who walks there?

Its me who walks. 

Who waits by the willow,

Bloom my mate, spread your wings,

And ask, till your heart's content

But who walks there?

The Forgotten Names

The bloods in my veins, 

Why drown me, drown my pain,

I can recall all, but your name.

The wind of the fields, 

Mystique, and never to yield, 

People know you, but your name.

The light of the dawn,

My fears are your song,

You know me, but just forget my name.

The dead leaf that floats,

A grief like the lightning bolt.

You are forgotten, you and your name.

The old beggar who disappeared, 

Along with the dog he cared,

No one knew you, not even your name.

The kid who grew, to be me,

Why disappear, floating away in the sea.

I have forgotten myself, even my name.

The Painted Face

"...The candle flickered, and so did his shadow, till they became one in darkness.."

The paint brush in his hands quivered, spreading splashes of red,
The giant shadow danced as the flame of the candle flickered,
A smile, he drew, then a sad face, the eyes did the talking,
He won't move, for his shadow remains intact, inept for the world.

A fine line he drew, to divide, to create, the line grew, cold,
A fine line he drew, to stop, to make, the line grew, sad.

The shadow never grew tired, for ages, it just followed him,
But today it stands, still, its calm, as the storm approaches,
Its mayhem in his head, he clutches, he screams, then he sits,
The shadow paints, the fine lines that define emotions on the face.

The candle flickered, as it ate the moth that lingered around,
The shadow danced, rhythmic with that of the flame, steady, but chaotic.

The eyes looked back, as the brush painted them, created them with a cares,
The fine lines don't exist any more, for the face as a whole is alive,
The candle burns away into the night, slowly being eaten by its own light,
The shadow disappears, and all that is left is the painted face.