Black kitten with older silver cat.
Black cat with protective cone on neck.
I am invisible here, you can not see me.
Norie with her mixed prizes.
Black cat smiling at bubbles.
White on Black IMG_20131215_101813 - Copy
Goldie from Floating Gold recently attempted a writing prompt which I also found interesting.
Write a story about beans in 99 words, reduce it to 59 words, and reduce it to 9 words and rewrite the final story into 99 words, no more, no less.
I was curious to attempt it myself but had a different narrative in my mind. Instead of ‘beans’, I choose to write about ‘scooty’.
Here’s my take-
While riding my scooty in full traffic on a winter night, I recalled a conversation.
“We think you should start going to the office by car.”
It’s not that far away.
“You should understand, it’s not safe.”
There’s traffic on the roads all the time.
“But you are a…”
No, I love my scooty. I have been riding it for 6 years now. It makes me feel free.
A small road patch with no traffic and dim street lights comes.
“They raped and murdered her after deflating her two-wheeler’s tyre,” the journalist’s voice I heard last week horrified me.
I was riding back home on my scooty last night. Over the years, the scooty has become a symbol of my independence.
Suddenly, a fear struck. “What if someone spreads nails on the road to puncture its tyres?”
They trapped her in a similar way.
It wasn’t the darkness of the winter night that sent shivers down my spine.
My scooty: Symbol of my independence or a curse?
She was enjoying the chilly winter winds as she rode her scooty back home. They were going to complete six years together soon- she and her scooty. She never realised when she became so much attached to it. It was not only a means of transport for her but the beginning of her adulthood.
Just as she took a left turn at the crossroads, the night became darker. A jerk from a pothole she couldn’t see scared her. For the first time, she felt unsafe on her scooty. The news of Disha rape-murder case made her question her freedom.
It did not seem like a stupid task to reduce the word count and then increase it. Instead, I found out how I could narrate one thought from different perspectives. Sticking to the word limits was definitely challenging. Rewriting the final part in full length took some thinking as I felt that I was out of new perspectives, but third-person narrative came to my rescue.