Light Hearted Magick?

She giggled...Neeta struggled to keep a straight face lest they draw attention to themselves.

Zack frowned, his irritation increasing with every passing minute. He could barely wait for the demo session to end.

Cathy, awaiting her turn, tried to catch their attention, her efforts only drawing puzzled looks from the twins seated behind them.

"Is something wrong with your eyes?" one asked 

When she didn’t respond “Trying to seduce my little brother, are we?"

'Little?' sizing up the boy who needed an entire bench to stretch his never ending limbs.

"That must be understatement of the century" with a quiet chuckle.

"Shut up jokers!" the other one hissed,

"I'll turn you both into bats if I get pulled up this time."

They glared at him, about to resort when she giggled again.

Zack got up in a huff only to freeze in place. Her warm hands pulling him back never failed to elicit the familiar response. Small, almost black eyes reprimanded him for breaking their contact abruptly.

Master, who had ignored them all this while was now forced to acknowledge the distraction from the eastern end of the chamber. He was aware of every thought, hushed whispers or otherwise. Faced with no other viable option, squelching the rumours that questioned his authority was a priority.  The first step towards the goal demanded that they be punished.

Pity, the girls were his best friend's nieces. Reluctantly, he called the three of them over.

Zack wasn't sure he could keep himself from casting the 'bent back' hex on the girls, seeing their calm, detached expressions. He didn't want to, not her anyway. He was pleasantly surprised when Master handed them the after session chores.

Planting seeds, magical ones at that was boring but not hard.

The sulking part of him did not share in his relief. This is not we had planned. The reminder was dampener on his spirits. He had volunteered to be the telepathic medium for the girls with an ulterior motive...a desperate need to find a clue, a confirmation of her interest in him. And here they were, digging up the soil with dancing hands, where he could have been plotting his next move with the guys. He didn't find his love for the 'flying ducks' night suit funny, she obviously did.

wc384

Today is  International Flash Fiction Day in the U.K...decided to post my fiction here and not on their site. You can check the other fantastic stories here.

* I got into Pottermore this week...a cute, interactive site. And while I received an Alder-Phoenix...they sorted me into bloody Gryffindor. I wanted to join Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff since we all know enough about the red house. Incidentally, I was put in a red house during my schooling years till 10th grade. I always envied my bro's blue badge.

* My nephews are turning up next week...surprise, as my bro is off to London for two weeks and the elder one has summer vacation till June 13. So June 4 is the only day I will be posting during the first week. I will be using my birthday to thank the bloggers/ettes whose awards I still have to acknowledge and pass on to the rest of you. Do visit the post, as I will be passing on certain awards.


* Any comments on the story welcome, but polite put downs please.

My First Loves - For The Blogfest

 First Loves Blogfest hosted by Alex Cavanaugh...


First loves blogfest by songsnwords on GoAnimate

Hi Alex...bloggers, blogettes...welcome to my version of the First Loves Blogfest. You can see and hear the one minute video if you are feeling lazy to read...more or less the same words.

 At 9 years, second year in the new school in Bombay...my first love, you could say, offered me chocolates for his birthday. All I remember is his being tall for our age, with a cute smile and beautiful light brown eyes.
The other real one was an unrequited one at 22 but that's "classified information".

First book I loved was a gift by my dad's cousin, 'Firebird And Other Russian Fairy Tales' printed in what was once U.S.S.R. It has beautiful illustrations and pages with border art, but now kind of brittle to touch.

Let's get this straight...I am saying, the first movie I loved was Jackie Chan's 1978 released Drunken Master with atrocious English dubbing.

First English song l loved was Boney M's Rasputin, and the first band I listened to and liked was Beatles, the song Kansas City.

Glad to have you here and hope everyone who visited enjoyed this rather one sided conversation, hee hee.

The Backworlds Book Launch Party

A vision of how humanity might colonize the galaxy some day in the distant future?

The Backworlds is here!

The first story in the Backworlds series by M. Pax. 

 The Backworlds

After the war with Earth, bioengineered humans scatter across the Backworlds.

Competition is fierce and pickings are scant. Scant enough that Craze’s father decides to

hoard his fortune by destroying his son. Cut off from family and friends, with little money,

and even less knowledge of the worlds beyond his own, Craze heads into an uncertain

future. Boarding the transport to Elstwhere, he vows to make his father regret this day.

Available from: Amazon / AmazonUK / Smashwords / Feedbooks

Other links to more outlets can be found at either Wistful Nebulae or MPax

The Backworlds is an ebook and a free read at Smashwords

and Feedbooks as of now.

It’ll take a few weeks to a free read status on Amazon Kindle. It will also be

available on B&N and iTunes. Sign up for M. Pax’s mailing list to be notified the day it

does go free on Amazon, and when the book becomes available at other outlets. You’ll

also receive coupons for discounts on future publications. 

NEWSLETTER

M. Pax’s inspiration comes from the wilds of Oregon, especially the high desert where

she shares her home with two cats and a husband unit. Creative sparks also come from

Pine Mountain Observatory where she spend her summers working as a star guide. She

writes mostly science fiction and fantasy, but confesses to an obsession with Jane Austen.

She blogs at her website, www.mpaxauthor.com and at Wistful Nebulae. You’ll find links

there to connect on Twitter, Goodread, FB and other sites.

The sequel, Stopover at the Backworlds’ Edge, will be released in July 2012. It will be

available in all ebook formats and paperback.

Wrong Timing?

After two months, back with my entry for Saturday Centus at Jenny Matlock's blog...any genre, P.G as far as possible, not to exceed 100 words plus the prompt in bold.. Check the other pleasure trips there.

The interview had held a lot of promise, one of the better ones she had given in recent times. Nevertheless, waiting for the elusive call was unnerving. She went about the everyday chores, no longer languorous. The meals were planned,  their calorie content checked, examined her closet, deeming most of the clothes as good enough for office wear. She checked her inbox a dozen times a day. The phone went everywhere she went. Today, at lunch, a beep was heard. She unlocked the screen in nervous excitement. The message read, “It is our pleasure to invite you to Exhale holiday homes, nature awaits.”

my origins

 A nervous hi, takes a seat...
"My origins...from India, so I guess ..." jumps up in alarm as Robyn Engel  from Life By Chocolate, present here on persistent pleading butts in.
"Rek, Rek...%&#$@" does a face-palm, accuses me " You hoodwinked us all this time!! Took you to be a smart, witty woman who knows her ifs and buts..."
I , as usual, burst into tears melting her kind heart. She pats my head (in a petting way) " Come now, here, have a chocolate."
Pouting "Hello, trying to lose weight here."
She mutters" More like losing steam and our audience."
"Alex! Tbone!" she hollers, literally yanking them off their chairs...giving them a 'don't mess with me' look
"Be my guest!" and thunders her way out.
I whimper, still licking a dark bit, "Robyn, Wait!"
Tbone clears his throat, "Look Lady, We don't have all day...220 odd others waiting, so cut the crap!"
In a stronger, cocoa dipped voice, "Written essays and poems in school and college and such...read books too. Summer vacations meant my cousins would hide away their books lest I spent less time with them."
Alex looks at Tbone, a telepathic exchange, 'Next time, our Blogfest is by invitation only!' and emphatic nods.
"My 8th grade(13yrs) English teacher liked my story, especially about a ranch horse...it reminded her of Black beauty...she loved my first line for another one, the one which went,"Under the star lit sky, with only the full moon for company, here I lie in a corner, a street dog."
Looks around for applause, none...stammers on, "But never aspired to be a writer, a published one at that."
Alex ""Finally!"  Tbone "No grovelling for sympathy!"
"Ok." "Written on and off for two decades now, till I joined Twitter in 2009 after my ... hmm...still a very bad word  here 'D'. Met two cool bloggers (now friends) T.S Hendrik and  Aditya, followed their blogs for a year before taking the plunge."
'"Joined some creative blog groups for poets and flash fiction writers, their encouragement helped as did that of my first few followers...then gave into my ambitious, pestering brother's advice and took up writing full time in 2010.""Ok." "Written on and off for two decades now, till I joined Twitter in 2009 after my ... hmm...still a very bad word  here 'D'. Met two cool bloggers (now friends) T.S Hendrik and  Aditya, followed their blogs for a year before taking the plunge."
'"Joined some creative blog groups for poets and flash fiction writers, their encouragement helped as did that of my first few followers...then gave into my ambitious, pestering brother's advice and took up writing full time in 2010."
"Moving out of Mumbai meant I couldn't even get a part-time accountant's job since I never managed to crack my C.A (C.P.A equivalent) final exams. I lick my wounds with the hard fact that in the 90s only 3% of 15,000 students got that elusive title every year, maybe because of fewer job openings then... sigh...but on the flip side, I have a lot of time to read, write, research, submit and get rejected, photograph, fabric paint, mess around with different software applications and blog now."
Alex softly "Lets get back to writing."
"Did I mention I got a commerce degree just because Arts is not a cool career option for the great Indian Middle Class! To cut the long story short...finally found the courage to get around doing what I love and what I think is one of the few things I am good at. So, if my books get printed or not, sell or not....I am and will be an Artist/Writer!!"

 Alternate version

There was a little girl who was a bit different, impulsive, hot tempered, rebellious dreaming false worlds when she should have been studying some more. The daydreams grew larger, more verbose and sometimes silly. As the space between the grey cells shrunk, she took to writing on pieces of paper... some saved, some frittered away carelessly...she never showed them to anyone lest she be mocked at by the uncaring. Then it happened, the stuff that her fears were made of. Unlike other kindred spirits, the more she read others, the less pieces of her own got written till a day when the dreams knew better and took flight to the nether regions of her mind, a self  imposed exile.

Time flew, walked, crawled, the dreams peeked out now and then and verses took shape that were protected fiercely for years and yet the best ones cast one day into the fire of battered self esteem (especially the ones dedicated to her fiancé-husband who broke her spirit)....and then after years of grey bleakness, the tumultuous life led her back to the road she had long ago abandoned, the only one left she could travel through, to save her sanity. The journey was risky, shaky, encouraged by loved ones who had secretly read her amateur works...she trots along enjoying the passing scenery.


And lo behold,
 The Twin, The  Muse Ran Away....
leaving behind a sci fi that is just about a quarter complete, a fantasy barely written, a poetry collection due for e publishing in March with quite a few missing pages, short stories to be drafted and rewritten from scratch.
She filled a complaint with the "Missing Muses Retrieval" writers club in December but yet to hear from them.
Anyone who sees 'Reka Sang' slouching around in the upper decks of cyber space, do cajole her to come back please...as said she is moody and cantankerous, gets offended easily. Will this be enough praise to melt her heart??

Penned bold thoughts /

Heart never speaks of /

Love this muse //

 3-5-3

 This is how the Muse looked when they last met....maybe the lady should check Facebook, for sure she is whiling away time with those mindless games or the news rooms where she is flirting with the big boys.

 The strain of these online searches and researching in her absence simply translates into nothing written in the last 3 months.


Wrtiten for a blogfest