Skip to main content

ROCK-A-BYE (NaNoWriMo Day 20 HWR)


                        ROCK-A-BYE 

The car juddered to a halt and refused to budge an inch forward. "Luke, I thought we had a full gas tank and the car was serviced just this weekend…what's wrong?"

"I have no idea, Amy…We're in the middle of nowhere and my phone has no signal! But look there. It says 'Baby Museum' on the signpost. Shall we go in and see if they have a landline to get us out of this mess?"

"Guess we have no choice. But I'm very uneasy, Luke. I just want to go home and rest. Our baby's due in a couple of weeks."

"I'm so sorry, honey. But look at the brighter side. We can check out this place in advance."

At the entrance were standees of Tinkerbell and Peter Pan. The lobby glowed with pastel pink shimmering lights. Mannequins of fairies lined the walls. Luke approached the front desk. 

"Yes sir, we will have it arranged. Meanwhile, why don't the both of you take a tour of our museum?"

Amy took Luke's arm and hobbled into the room beyond. It was done in darker pink. Playpens and trampolines occupied the room. Why is the museum vacant– a thought did cross her mind but she brushed it off. The room further in was crimson. "Luke this looks very disturbing. I want to go out. I don't have a good feeling about this. Do you see these portraits on the walls? They hardly look human!"

"They're foetus for god's sake! This is a baby museum! There's one more room and then we're done…okay?"

Amy was unsure but agreed to go along. 

The room was deep scarlet with hives of foetus…

Outside, Luke bade goodbye and stashed rolls of money into his pockets. Amy's cries for help went unheard from the soundproof walls.

Pic Courtesy: Pixabay

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Moxie N' Mettle

                                MOXIE N' METTLE  In slivers and fragments as my sleep tiptoes, did I do right or wrong my heart needles… Some skies are born of black holes and tempest wreck,  There glitters not a ray of light, nor a speck When curtains turbid hold all light hostage,  Sandstorms, hailstorms, dust storms, snowstorms, windstorms assail and ravage Spanning my wings as a raging fire  Or as a mellow glow of a fairy light in the distant darkness, quite debonaire I'll ignite my spark from within like a star born into itself spurting lava Or explode leaving trails of cosmic dust like a Supernova I will be the Sun creating galaxies and many a constellation.  Or burn like a single flame of the candle to keep my hopes and dreams alive with determination! I will be at my own pace I will be whoever and whatever I want to be—in my own race Collapse, crash and crumble! But I'll...

CLOGYRNACH ( Day 8, Soul Craft Poetry)

                          CLOGYRNACH  How time flies, they grow up too soon When they'd bawled you'd shown them the moon Your mirror image Feels she's in a cage Stomping rage! 'Teen Typhoon' Pic Courtesy: Soul Craft  ©️ Sangeetha Kamath Clogyrnach, Welsh poetic form is typically a six-line syllabic stanza with an ab rhyme scheme: Line 1: 8 syllables with an a rhyme Line 2: 8 syllables with an a rhyme Line 3: 5 syllables with a b rhyme Line 4: 5 syllables with a b rhyme Line 5: 3 syllables with a b rhyme Line 6: 3 syllables with an a rhyme.

WHEN THE SHARDS SING, the BEAST AWAKENS( DAY 22, LETTER W)

                         CHAPTER 21  WHEN THE SHARDS SING, the BEAST                                   AWAKENS  Dawn was hours away, but nobody at Meadow Brook Cottage was sleeping.   The stew was gone. The bread was devoured. The porridge pot was polished clean. The berry tart for dessert existed only as stains on Dapper’s snout. Tasha slept by the hearth, her milk cup clutched to her like a shield. The Knights Army sat around the scarred oak table, full-bellied and hollow-eyed, because Papa Koala’s words were still heavy in the air. As they pored over the map, Tasha roused from her sleep and knocked over her milk cup. Her milk cup rolled across the floorboards, hit the table and stopped dead against the oaken leg directly under the crystal apple. Both the objects buzzed in sync. Tasha whimpered in her sleep and t...

JOURNEY MOST TREACHEROUS ( DAY 23, LETTER J)

                            CHAPTER 22           JOURNEY MOST TREACHEROUS  The plan was set. With a departure set before daybreak they would easily avoid the pig patrols, reaching Mistwood Shadow Glade before the Mighty Boar knew their agenda.  As they filed out to grab minimal winks of sleep that wouldn’t come, the crystal apple sat alone in the dark, throwing tiny red constellations across the ceiling in the library. Watching. Waiting. They packed ammo for the battle of the ages.  "Mistwood Shadow Glade is three days away. Day one: Cross the dell before twilight or the pig scouts sniff out your wake.  Day Two: Skirt around the Bone Fields. Better still, avoid it altogether! We take shortcuts through low lying rivers. Water hides our scent. Day three: Reach the fringes of the Mistwood Shadow Glade. Keep the shards from getting activated along the way. No fires after dusk. ...

GATES TO THE VAULT( DAY 24, LETTER G)

                         CHAPTER 23                  GATES TO THE VAULT  Three days of trudging, trekking and aching muscles later, the cozy, sunlit, honeyed woods of Bramble Shire were miles behind them.  At the edge of the deep, fog covered forest, a wispy figure appeared before them –The Guardian Maiden, Blaire barricading their way. "What do you seek in Mistwood Shadow Glade?" Her voice was the soft breeze that twirled around them. Ethereal!  Hopper stepped forward gingerly. "The Locke Jewel. The last shard to piece together the Starwood Crystal. Where’s it hidden?" Blaire pursed her lips. "I’ll trade, as you know. Tell me your deepest secret. One you’d kill to hide." Chipper tensed. Hopper hesitated. There was a lot at stake, when she prodded, “The Pigs are closing in. Time is of the essence here, Rabbit ! If you don’t choose, you lose." Papa Koala warned, " ...