Random Tales


Jennifer smiled and then kissed Keith. As their lips touched, Jennifer felt her heartbeat rising. After the kiss, their lips lingered as Jennifer felt his warm breath on her face. She wanted to melt in his arms but she resisted.

“We uhh…” Jennifer started but was shut by Keith’s lips again kissing hers. Jennifer pulled away from him with all her willpower, and whispered, “We need to stop.”

“Why?” Keith asked.

She looked at him, into his eyes. She bit her lip and held his shirt, crushing its crease. Her resolve wavered and Keith took the opportunity to kiss her again. She kissed him back with fervor and Keith’s hand slipped under her skirt.

“Stop!” Jennifer said suddenly coming to her senses. She pushed him away and he looked at her confused.

Jennifer blushed, her face flushed and she whispered.


Random Tales


The two had a lot in common and that was the problem. They fought over each thing tremendously as each had a strong opinion on each thing they had in common.

“I sometimes wish that we were different from each other. At least, we wouldn’t be fighting over everything,” Ishika said holding her head in frustration. They had been fighting for hours now and she was close to tears.

Karan’s eyes were also shining with the water in them. ‘Not again,’ his mind seemed to scream.

“Why do we fight so much? We are supposed to be perfect for each other!” He whispered, more to himself than her.

“Ha! Perfect,” Ishika said bitterly.

“Should we just break up?” Karan asked for what would be their tenth break up.

Ishika looked at her wide-eyed. She was already at the edge and this statement from Karan elicited a laughter and tears from her.

Karan looked at Ishika laughing and crying at the same time confused for a bit before it dawned on him. He swore.

He sat down on the bed, hands holding his head, and swore some more.

Ishika sat down on the floor, completely broken, tears flowing without pause and a grin on her face.

Karan dropped from the bed and sat beside her wiping her tears.

“We are screwed,” Karan said.

“Yes,” Ishika replied.

“Did we get married too quickly?”

“After five years of dating, forced by our parents. Yeah!”

“You look beautiful in this wedding dress. Red suits you.”

Ishika looked at Karan and smiled at him. They are gonna be fighting each other for life now.

“I love you,” Karan said.

“I love you too,” Ishika replied.

“Welcome to the first night of marriage.”


Story Collection - MSPM39

Story 14/39: Spookmate

“Thank you,” Raja said and picked the keys. The woman in front of him smiled, tears almost glistening her eyes, her enthusiasm almost childlike, and her joy vivid.

“I should be the one thanking you,” the woman, Jill said and left.

Raja looked at the papers. He was now the owner of a 4-bedroom house that had a garden as well. That too, at half the regular price. He was feeling giddy.

“I should go and meet the neighbors.”

Raja met the neighbors outside the house. Almost everyone around the neighborhood was surrounding it.

“Hi, my name is Raja. I’m your new neighbor.”

Everyone nodded with concern clear on their faces. One lady, in her fifties, with a crisp voice and a no-nonsense attitude spoke first.

“Are you an idiot? You bought the house knowing that there are ghosts living in it.”

Raja smiled.

“I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“What you believe doesn’t change reality, son?” The lady’s husband spoke.

Raja looked at him, for the first time in his life, speechless.

“Umm. True. But I don’t think the house is haunted.” He finally said.

“When are you moving in?” Another lady asked.

“The house needs a bit of cleaning. Once that is done, I will move. Probably by the weekend.”

“Welcome. I hope you are right about the house.” A teenager said and surprised Raja. Teenagers usually don’t care about these things as much but this boy was definitely a believer that the house was haunted.

Four days later, Raja was spending his first night at his newly bought house. He had been invited to the dinner at his neighbor’s place and there he got to know the whole story.

A few years ago, a couple lived in the house. The couple was a happy one and everyone loved them in the neighborhood. Then one day, the police came to their house and found that the wife had killed her husband and her best friend. They were found in the basement. No one knows what exactly happened but ever since then, the house has been haunted and whosoever has lived in the house has either gone mad in a few weeks or has left the house.

Raja found the story more interesting than horrifying. The family gave various hypotheses on what might have gone wrong, the most prominent one being an affair between the best friend and the husband. No one knew the truth as the wife never talked to anyone and was never seen again.

Raja slept like a baby. He didn’t care about what the stories said. The truth was that he had a great house and it would take more than a tall tale to sway him. A glass mirror with blood stains was a good start to sway him.

In the morning, he looked at the bathroom mirror with amusement, curiosity, and fear. It was written in blood, human or animal, he didn’t know.

‘It wasn’t an affair. And you don’t have to be afraid,’ the message said.

Raja knew that someone had done that as a prank to him. He was impressed by the dedication of the prankster. He went to work and came back home late at night, falling on his bed like a tree falling after being sawed. The next morning, the mirror was again red.

‘You forgot to have dinner yesterday.’

Raja smiled and spoke out loud.

“I had dinner at the office but thank you for remembering.”

Almost a whole week passed with generic messages falling on the mirrors each morning. Raja looked for any other signs of a deranged person around, just in case, there was some crazy person lurking around who might go ballistic one day and tries to kill someone.

‘All the best for your meeting,’ the message said and for the first time, his heart choked. He hadn’t told anyone about the meeting and has been working almost secretly on it for the past week. The usual smiled drained from his face as he looked around his house for the cameras. He didn’t find any device that might be lurking around.

Raja became increasingly paranoid living in the house. It has been over ten days and the messages have been streaming through each morning.

Over the next weekend, Raja went out with friends and came back home drunk.

“What is your name ghost person?” Raja whispered and dozed off on his own couch.

The next morning he saw the message on the mirror with a name on it.

‘My name is Samantha. I was killed by my best friend. I live here.”

“Alright, Samantha. Tell me what happened. And why should I believe you? You might be simply a prank played by the neighbors.” This time, the message started changing in front of his eyes.

“Do you think a joke can do this?”

Raja screamed. It was a high-pitch scream Raja didn’t know he was capable of making. The words on the mirror changed – “STOP! I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What do you want then?” Raja asked.

“I don’t know. I thought once my revenge was complete, I will vanish but that didn’t happen. Since then, I lurk around the house. I can’t leave the house and I can’t seem to break free of my shackles to go from this state. I don’t know what to do,” the message said.

Raja was still panicking but his curiosity overtook it.

“Can you write on any mirror or surface inside the house or just the bathroom mirror.”


“Awesome!” Raja said and pulled a whiteboard and kept it in his living room. He started asking questions and Samantha continued responding in her style. Raja and Samantha spent the whole day chatting, with Samantha telling him how and she actually died.

“Crazy lady, your best friend.”

“I found out about it too late.”

The next morning, there was a small note in the bathroom mirror and a giant ‘Good morning’ on the whiteboard. Raja smiled. He didn’t know what was happening but he promised Samantha that he would figure on it.

A year passed him trying to figure out how to help a ghost or a spirit go from Earth to wherever they belong. Each method was a hoax. By now, Raja had gotten used to Samantha and her tiny messages on the boards and mirrors. Every room now contained a whiteboard so that they could communicate without any issues. Sometimes, she was like an Alexa or Siri who could actually talk to you, other times, a personal therapist that Raja didn’t have to pay for and who would hear him out but mostly, she was his best friend now.

At the year mark, Samantha and Raja wished each other anniversary and finally decided to pursue other goals.

“Maybe your purpose isn’t to go away but to stay here, with me,” Raja said. Samantha drew a smiley face on the whiteboard.

“I can do that.”

Inspired from Reddit’s WritingPrompts – [WP] Your neighbors were concerned when you moved into the local haunted house. You were worried at first too, but the messages written in blood on the mirrors are… oddly supportive. [Link]

Tales of a Clumsy Girl

#12 Wedding Wobbles

“I don’t want to get married.”

Mansi’s friends had heard these words a hundred times. Whenever she would watch a movie with a wedding scene, she would utter these words; whenever any of her friend would get married, she would utter these words; whenever the word ‘marriage’ would be uttered, she would utter these words. Her friends had heard these words so often that many had stopped registering them in the conversations anymore.

Yet, everyone was dumbstruck when they heard these words today. Her friends looked at each with a somber face which quickly turned to a shy and controlled grin. They looked at Mansi whose face was puffed, her makeup further radiated by the glow of her anger. Her bangles were shimmering and clunking as she flayed her hands wildly while the eyes turned more and more menacing.

“I don’t want to get married,” she said once more, her voice echoing in the hallway.

Her family looked at her worried. One of her friends dry-swallowed, came closer to Mansi and then with a soft and almost trembling voice whispered.

“But Mansi, you are already married. You just got married,” he said pointing at her bridal dress and makeup.

“So what?” Mansi huffed and sat down on a chair.

“I still don’t want to get married.”

Random Tales


It was a good life.

After almost 80 years of toiling and sacrifices, I had reached the end of the road. My son and daughter were sitting across the bed while my wife was holding my hand, while her other hand held a tissue which she was using to wipe the tears in her eyes. My grandchildren were sitting far away, in my eyesight but not close enough to see the gory truth of the death. They didn’t understand it yet that this is the last time they will see their grand fluff again. But it doesn’t matter. They will remember me and they will love me. I hoped that my parents were happy with the life I had lived, perhaps even proud of the person their son had become. My father had never seen the face of the school but he worked hard to ensure that his son goes to the best schools in the country. My mom had loved me and cared for me for every day of her life. Even on her deathbed, she was fussing over my clothes.

Yes, indeed. It has been a good life.

‘But was it good enough?’ The thought rang in my heart as my breathing laggard. My mind was too sluggish to make much of it but there was a spike of surprise that ran through the nerves. Did one of my family asked this question? Or was it a cosmic question put in my head by an entity bigger than I? Or was it a senile old man’s final thought? I did not know and now, I didn’t care. I closed my eyes and breathed my last.

I opened my eyes to a large auditorium. In front of me, in a semi-circle were sitting eleven people looking at me with varied looks that ranged from surprised to disgust to smile. I couldn’t guess the gender of the individuals and they looked as if the humans had evolved into a hairless specie that could breath anywhere, even in water or space.

Two similar people were standing in front of the panel, one standing beside me while the other at the far end looking at me with disappointment.

The person at the far end repeated – “But was it good enough?”

“Yes, it was,” the person next to me said. It (for I don’t know how else to describe the being) showed the reel which went through in less than a second.

It was my life! Each and every moment that I had experienced.

“How?” I said but it gestured me to shut my mouth.

I obeyed. The proceedings continued for an hour more. Each and every action of my life, each moment was scrutinised in grave detail while I sat there, trying to remember which religion had such detailed judgement.

Finally, the eleven judges (I had decided that they were indeed judging my life) stood up and the centre one looked at me.

We have conferred amongst us (When? I didn’t see them even look at each other once) and we have decided that her punishment is over. She can get her truth back.

As soon as the words were uttered by the central judge, I felt like someone had pushed eons worth of memory in my mind. My body started shedding, the hair first, followed by the skin. Below it was the same all-weather skin that each of the other members had and my body had also morphed into a single gender.

I was Athria, not a male or a female but a vale of the specie Omana.

As the memories flooded my mind, tears started to come to my eyes – first of joy at having returned and then of pain, immense pain of what I had done.

“Why?” I asked but Corana held me gingerly.

“It’s over now. It has been a long 80 years but they are over now. You can go back to your family,” Corana said.

“You became a lawyer,” I said. She smiled.

“What I did…”

“… has been stricken along with the punishment. You are free!”


“You should now go back to your home. 80 years is a long time. Things have changed. My assistant would help you with the details while I finish the formalities. Then, I will take you home.”

I nodded and went with her assistant.

My mind was whirling at the memory of the last time I was here.

“You have killed a human foetus. Why?”

The judge looked at me with fury. I stood firm. In my mind, I had made no mistake. Humans were an inferior species, barely capable of speech and other higher forms of intellectual achievements that makes us consider a specie intelligent.

“You have broken our most ancient laws. We don’t interfere with life forms in other planets. Let alone kill their younglings or foetuses.”

I looked with defiance at the judge.

“The stem cells would have given us new techno…”

“Silence! You have been found guilty on all charges. You will serve a life sentence. You will experience what it is to be a human. And we will repay the woman whose foetus you so arrogantly plucked and killed.”

My vision faded, the world going entirely dark. Without warning I am blinded by light. I hear a woman screaming and a doctor yell, “The baby is crowning!”

My sentence has begun.

Inspired by reddit/r/writingprompts:

[WP] “You have been found guilty on all charges. You will serve a life sentence.” The judge slammed his gavel on the table. My vision faded, the world going entirely dark. Without warning I am blinded by light. I hear a woman screaming and a doctor yell “The baby is crowning!”My sentence has begun.