The Box of Short Stories

Start writing here…With every step towards it, my heartbeat kept leaping. Almost as if the flamenco beats were on roll. I was looking, I swear. My lens did see everything. It was barren and dry, as if on purpose so that the only water left is your saliva. Ostensibly there are a lot of them staring at me or just the birds. Anyways I have never liked the arid dry atmosphere and keeping it simple I moved on. My legs trembled at a point, a giant rock and nothing else. Why did I agree on the first place to do this, I could have easily went to a hill station and captured snowy, dreamy mountains. An eerie feeling just gushed through my veins; with every regretful step, I was getting closer to one of the most exquisite, gaunt, unearthly masterpieces.

The inside was quite, rather lonely and full of disdain. To my disappointment just as I entered the house, there sat a lovely, beautiful lady with her scars all over. It reminded of a relative who died because of third-degree burns. I was scared but to my very disappointment, the lady did not try to frighten me or even bothered to be bothered by my presence. As if she just existed like I do. Not at all what I have heard so far in my life, hence I decided to move forward with my story and let my camera explore more. The lady was perfectly captured in the camera. She was knitting something I assume; thus I created a whole story about how a pregnant lady was set on fire by her in-laws when they found out that the baby was a girl. I was hitting all points a touch of horror with a sympathetic back story. For a moment I froze like what if she isn’t a ghost at all, maybe she is just a patient with mental disorders. I ran downstairs to talk to her. My head by then had already assumed that if also she is a spirit, she is a good one. I saw her drawing something on the floor this time. I tried to talk to her, called her several times, but she kept drawing something regardless. My adrenaline rush was so high that I decided to ignore her and look for something else. It was beautifully eerie. I think I was getting the hang of that place.

As I went upstairs a little boy was sitting there weeping. On further inquiry, I figured out that he lost his ball and went to find it near the lake. He fell asleep shortly after it and woke up to find none of his family members present. I gave him some candies that were left with me after I devoured some twenty of them while coming to this magnificent beast. (I just cannot stop admiring the place though). I added an element of child abuse to his story and voila was having two great stories. Guessing it enough for this place I started wrapping up when something caught my eye. It was a bright yellow ball, just like the one I used to have when I was a little boy. I picked it up “out of nostalgia things we do” and started to descend downstairs when the boy came running to me claiming it to be his. I handed it over to him and left the place.