OUT OF THE WOODS

OUT OF THE WOODS

A getaway in the cabin in the woods was a good idea as we needed this break. It was a little after midnight when we sat up, alarmed at a loud clanging outside.

Byron looked out, but could see nothing. Another clang! Byron stepped out inspite of my repeated urging not to. Flicking on the table lamp yielded no results. Damn the power cut at the right time!

He returned in a bit and reassured me.

"Just some woodland scavenger looking for food scraps. You know how the silence of the woods are at night. The slightest noise gets amplified". Relieved, I settled myself under the covers.

I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw a silhouette of a man against the windowpane. Panicking wildly, I grabbed Byron.

The tapping on the window made my blood run cold and I couldn't hold back a scream. The shadowed face loomed large!

"Verona! Open the door for God sake! I've locked myself out!"

Right then, I saw a serrated edge of a steel blade gleaming in the moonlight. 'Byron' had a horrific smile and his lips stretched from ear to ear as I felt the cold metal against my throat…

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

ENDLESS NIGHT

It was past dinner time and I just couldn't wait to dig in. The house was dark as I approached it. The cook must have left long ago. I let myself in after a bout of frustration when the lock didn't give in at first. When the door finally opened, I could get the aroma of my favorite food. But first things first.

Wait! Somebody was shuffling outside the door. Wringing my hands together, I darted my head about. There were no other houses for another mile so it could only be 'him'!

I could sense some hesitation outside.

Did I close the door properly? Lock it well? There was no time to think.

Upstairs!

Grabbing a knife from the kitchen, I tiptoed my way up. I could hear him in the hallway now. Hide! My brain seemed to scream and I slipped into the closet, my hands clutching the knife till my fingers went white.

Anytime now. He would come to this closet to hang his coat and would be my 'seventh' in the Lyndale County Serial Murders when I went for the jugular. I giggled softly as I waited…

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

Pic Courtesy: Pixabay

Comments

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see. A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird , its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has sai...

BOKETTO

In my quiet moments, I pause the world from its frantic pace. In that stillness, I wistfully gaze into the distance and just let things unfurl as they please. I let my thoughts flow, absorbing nothing. Internalizing nothing. And just like that, the strands of tightly woven twine untangle and the knots come loose. Today, as usual, I found myself caught up in the hustle and bustle of daily grind. I was rushing to get things done, stressing about deadlines, and feeling overwhelmed by the sheer amount of tasks on my to-do list. But then, I took a deliberate pause. With a deep breath, I stretched, stepped away from my desk, and walked out onto my balcony. Leaning on the railing, I looked down at the familiar lanes of my neighborhood, twirling around the corners behind the blocks of apartments. The park and playground stood deserted at noon amid the cluster of flowering trees and surrounded by the hedges lining the curbs. I gazed at the sky, feeling the warm sun on my face and ...

ARIEL AND BLUE-BLOOD SHOES

The waves crashed violently against the craggy mountainside and the moonlight shone on the lacy froths. As I waded through the water and stepped on the wet sand, I remembered another night which was many moons ago. The same glinting lights through the palace doorways and windows, the fireworks adorning the night sky like shooting stars and meteors. A royal celebration with all the works and the guests dressed up in their best finery and aristocratic jewelry. Of noble births they all were. Blue blooded as the matriarch had pointedly told me once. That unholy night! That night of icy hearts and howling laughter, the echoes of cackling that followed me till I ran on wobbly legs to find my place of comfort where the land met water… Hot tears streaming down, I regretted those days when I lost my heart to a man so spineless. Had I not dragged him to the shore, he would have been a mangled mass after being torn apart by the piranhas and other monstrous maws. How I regret…Oh!...

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day. I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children. The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here. The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apar...

HELLO FROM THE OTHER SIDE

The sleek steel grey landline with it's cordless handset gleams in the mid morning sunlight. It's only a fixture on the tabletop these past several years yet loved and flaunted for old times sake. Also, for the numerous times the handset had nestled in our palms. The vintage feel of it and the stronghold of memories I associate it with beats the smartphone by miles. It has in turn been a confidante of our precious moments, some idling talk, some annoyance oh yes ! and all before Whatsapp made an entry into our lives and the poor dear was no longer in demand. The world was at our fingertips. It doesn't complain, doesn't whimper, not even a sigh, murmur or a slightest hint at a whisper of life for the past decade and more! Except… On Thursday the daylights were socked out of me! Lost in mundane chores, I had my gloved hands deep in a pile of soapy water scrubbing away at the breakfast dishes. The usual swell of silence was harshly rend by the landline from the livin...

Sangeetha Kamath

Search This Blog