5MinutesBreak, BlogARhythm

Lord of the Files – #BarAThon

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The day had arrived when an event of celebration was rife with nervousness. A constant hum buzzed through the grand hall and large grounds where the event was planned.

The blast of trumpets put a stop to the murmurings. The royal fleet marched down the aisle. They cheered as their King passed them, waving at them, his warm smile a wee bit smaller than usual. It set the off the nervous rambling again which clashed with the simultaneous cheering.

All was silence when the King came to the pulpit.

“Today is a day that will mark a new beginning.” he started amid roaring cheers.

He raised his hand and silence descended once more.

“We have prided ourselves in maintaining discipline, decorum, and immense value among ourselves and in our duties. We have ensured that we be of complete service and humble dedication to provide ease and comfort to our masters.”

He paused, and the crowd caught their breaths as one.

“This is why today we select a new member to rule one of the most challenging duties of our kingdom. We have here, in this box, the names of all our loyal, skillful, and brave young men of our nation!”

A thunder of cheers boomed through the air.

“I will draw a piece, and the name on the piece will determine who attains this legendary post.”

A hush smothered the air as the King took his time in tossing and turning the pieces over in the box.

Who would it be? Who would be the lucky one?

At long last the King pulled out a piece. He held it at an arms length, lengthening the suspense, a sly smile on his face as he watched the tension rising. He opened it, smiling all the while and then… stood dumbstruck.

The crowd waited with bated breath. What was taking the King so long? Whose name was on that piece.

“No, it can’t be” said the King falteringly.

“Dammit” the King whispered.

Dammit? Dammit? The crowd echoed the King. Confusion reigned.

“Dammit?” called out the King.

Dammit, the local prankster, suspected by many to be mentally unhinged, hid behind the hulking crowd before him but someone had spotted him and clouted his back, pushing him forward.

“He’s here!” they shouted.

The crowd pushed him along and up the dais.

“How did your name come to be here?” enquired the King.

Dammit who was quaking all this while, suddenly stood tall and straight, looked the King right in the eye and said simply, “Put it as a joke, of course.”

The King angered by his impetuosity proclaimed, “So be it Dammit, you will be a joke and your name will be a curse. You shall live with it all your life.”

Turning to the crowd the King said, “I give you, Dammit, the Lord of the Files.”

Jeers speared around as boos resounded throughout.

Dammit stood untouched by the gibes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What happened next grandma?” Eve asked.

“Well my dear, to this day, files are mysteriously misplaced, papers from files go missing, they are never in the order that they were previously kept it, and you can never find one when you really need it. Which is when we mostly exclaim the Lord’s name ‘Dammit’” said grandma.

“The Lord of the Files defied every element that his kingdom stood for. The other Lords, Lord of Pens, Lord of Paper, Lord of Stapler tried in vain to knock some sense into him. He just did his own thing and so was alone and friendless forever.”

“Poor Lord of the Files, if only someone loved and understood him.” Eve said with a yawn, her eyes closing, dreaming about the Lord of the Files sitting atop all the files of the world and messing with them, a cheeky smile on his face.

“I’ll be your friend Lord of the Files” she said before finally drifting off to sleep.

 

This post has been written for the fortnight long #BarAThon challenge organized by Blog-A-Rhythm.

barathon, blog-a-rhythm, blogger, blogging, writer, story, short story, life of pi, pie, life of pie

 

Cheers,

 

Venice 🙂

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5MinutesBreak, BlogARhythm, Nature

War and Pieces – #BarAThon

Her bosom heaved as the last of the tyrants was swallowed into the depths of the ocean. The waves and winds roared triumphantly, with joyous beats of thunder and spectacular lightning joining in the celebrations of a war deservedly won. The Sun broke in from behind heavy clouds, a sliver of light highlighting her raw beauty.

Those vile creatures had dared to molest and mistreat her without a semblance of guilt for their acts. She had fought back several times but they only ravaged her more. There was only so much one could take.

The ultimatum came when their greed drove them to take complete advantage of her. This time she marshaled all her energy, forces, and strengths to combat them. A deadly rage coursed through every inch of her body. Her eyes reflected ferocity, her hands packed power, and her whole being attacked them with lethal fierceness, that ripped them apart, pieces of them strewn all across the space.

Freedom was hers at last. She was no longer chained to the whims and fancies of others. She was free from degradation and disrespect. She was whole again. She soaked in the peace and love that abounded her. The wind whispered in her ears, the waves danced, and the Sun smiled down at her, blessing her with its beams of rays.

A smile lit her face. All was well again.

People always underestimate my power, she reflected as she rotated on her axis and revolved around the Sun.

 

This post has been written for the fortnight long #BarAThon challenge organized by Blog-A-Rhythm.

barathon, blog-a-rhythm, blogger, blogging, writer, story, short story, life of pi, pie, life of pie

Cheers,

Venice 🙂

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5MinutesBreak, BlogARhythm, Humour, Story

Ice and Men – #BarAThon

ice and men, Bar-A-Thon, Blog-A-Rhythm, blogging, blog, writer, story, humour, short story, whiskey

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If you saw us right now, you would think we were lunatics escaped from a high-secure asylum.

And why not?

With ridiculous gestures, manic expressions on our faces and in varying poises, we looked every bit ready for someone to strait-jacket us.

You’re probably wondering what the hell I am drawling about. Well it all started with Burpy Ben claiming that he knew a fella who could hold 10 ice cubes in his mouth for a minute.

We rubbished and called it a blasted lie equal to the theory of crop circles made by aliens. Like, why would aliens even ASSUME that we morons were intelligent enough to decipher their agri-artistic codes? Absolute tosh we said.

Burpy Ben unfortunately didn’t see it as we did, he never does, and proceeded to bet that he would prove it to us by doing it himself.

We strongly objected as it would be a waste of the ice cubes in his mouth rather than in our glasses of rich whiskey.

Burpy Ben steam-rollered us and started stuffing his wide oral cavity with ice cubes. He always had to have it his way, the dratted old bumblehead. Continue reading

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