Flying by the curled lamp post in the candyfloss world. Image from Pixabay.
Yes, it was the world of candyfloss. Pink softness everywhere. The sky was pink and you could touch and have a piece of it.
The cottony air filled your mind, making you smile. The pink trees and the pink flowers and everything else was so sweet that one had to smile.
In pleasure, I lurched and took myself in some direction. The path was quite visible because it wasn’t pink. Yes, the path wasn’t made of candyfloss.
So I walked and walked for some more time. I couldn’t think of anything, maybe it was the sweet air. Then I saw a beautiful lamp post, it was long and curled at the top, like a curled flower.
But the lamp post was also not made of candyfloss. Don’t know why. The path curved in left and then right direction. I would have kept walking but then I reached a circle and felt tired.
Luckily, there was a bench nearby and I decided to rest. The bench was cold and solid and oh it too wasn’t pink and candy-flossy. I found it strange.
In a few minutes, I lied down on the bench. The pink sky was full of fluffy pink clouds. It was so pretty. I took a bite first and then ate leisurely, playing with the sugary cloud.
A long time passed and then weird things occurred.
The clouds turned black and made angry sounds and it started to rain. In zero time I was soaked from top to bottom. And then it happened.
I simply rubbed my eyes and blinked and what I saw then was not the world of candyfloss. The pink, light, cotton world had just gone. I don’t know where!
A bicycle rudely passed me at that moment. Yeah, someone was riding it. I decided to hitch-hike and so I did.
All my way to someplace I kept thinking about the world of candyfloss. I still do, especially when I eat candyfloss. And also when I lie down, not to sleep but just like that.
Candyfloss cloudsin this world Image from Pixabay.
The world of candyfloss!
In this world I think three things are just like the world of candyfloss, one candyfloss, second clouds and the third is Time. I mean literally. Yes!
Mr. Podolski calls hiding from the rain ignoring. [Image from Pixabay]
Mr. Podolski was sitting in the attic, smoking idly. He continuously ignored the noise that was coming from downstairs. Everyone was watching the game, football. Both the windows in the attic were open.
For a long time, he was gazing at the blue sky which had some white spots here and there.
‘That’s a goal!’, shouted his grandson, gripped in the game. Mr. Podolski gave a grim grin and lit a cigarette afresh.
He failed to ignore the clouds gathering, the blue sky soon less blue. He thought, ‘they are teaming against me, again, like…that day.’
‘That Day’ echoed inside him as the huge church bell echoed in the town. It revived his rage and furry. In spite of his daily practice, he merely feigned calmness.
He stood up from his rocking chair and reached the window limping. He sharply glanced above while the clouds replied with a thunder.
He tried, tried hard, very hard but failed. His mind’s eye presented a slideshow before him.
Green ground, heavy rain, his white dress no more white but muddy, 90 minutes almost over, scoreboard shining 2-1, the crowd going mad, fans screaming ‘P-O-D-O-L-S-K-I-P-O-D-O-L-S-K-I’, the commentator shouted, ‘it’s a penalty…all eyes on Heinz Podolski now!”
His mind de-fossilized the amber which consisted of the words spoken by his coach before the match. He had said, ‘for some people football is a matter of life and death…I can assure you it is much more serious.’
This was exactly what he thought before hitting the penalty and then…. ‘We won!’ said Mr. Podolski’s grandson, shouting at the top of his voice.
Mr. Podolski’s recollection died away. It was raining outside. He shut both the windows and settled back in his chair.
‘Should I tell grandpa?’ exclaimed the grandson, who was extremely excited to think before speaking up. In a few minutes, though, Mr. Podolski got the answer as his grandson didn’t come upstairs.
He sat in the dark attic with the steady smoke all around him. He soaked the thundering sound and the heavy rainfall that gave his face a plastic expression and his eyes some moistness.
She is sitting in the sun. Winter times…and you love the golden warmth. Birds are dancing all around, from one tree to another. Fallen dry leaves somehow create music, to which her attention is caught. She enjoys the nature. A bird flies near her and sits. She tells her about the music, the colour, the magic, the wind, the shine, the fragrance, all about the nature. Bird smiles to sing her the endless saga of nature. ” Rich green leaves Happy fresh air Sounds you hear Pure magic so near… …It’s earth my dear.” Girl lost in these words open her eyes to see the bird fly away. Happiness enters her, she feels the earth. She laughs and laughs. Her head enters a whirlpool. She lies down and touches the sky. She started crying and fell asleep. She had a dream. She saw a golden light turning red and then golden again. She saw purity, smoothness. She saw a feeling dancing madly. She saw innocence. She felt water all around. She saw a hand and she woke up.
Haiku
Endless footprints following footprints/
When suddenly a few of them rise/
To bloom like a flower.
Greetings!
A storyteller, following the ancient tradition of cave chroniclers, standing in vrikshasana (the tree pose) on a hill top (it is sunny, but windy), breathing in and out stories (relishing it all, but at times overwhelmed), declares animatedly that she will continue to – tell stories, share rare story gems, and connect with the pacy universe while also keeping the website ad-free.
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Ya-hoy!
Chiming Stories (formerly Home Chimes)
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