Sunday, September 01, 2013


It never rains without a warning, and tonight she heard loud thunders, bellowing somewhere high up in the heavens.

The line went dead; the unspoken decisions were taken, as her voice staggered in the lonely night, choking with the streams of tears that threatened to smear her kohl-lined eyes.

Work had to be done, quickly, efficiently, and time was running out.

She wore her raincoat and gum boots and crept onto the wet streets, the clouds shouting at her, but in vain.

Her hands slid into the pocket of her faded denim; the metal of the gun felt cold, and soothing, and she smiled for the first time in several days.

This Micro-Fiction is shared with Five Sentence Fiction - Thunder.


  1. That was truly fantastic!
    Impressive writing with a mystic touch :-)

  2. Ever since I can remember I have bee terribly afraid of thunderstorms ...

  3. Very nicely done Amrit!! I never would have guessed the cold of the metal in her pockets...

  4. Interesting! It makes me want to know more about her and her situation.

  5. Oh! That was different. Interesting read, Amrit.

  6. Definitely a storm brewing in her. Captivating story.

  7. i thought its some love struck belle, but the end showed a femme fatale...nycc