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Monday, September 19, 2005

Short Story

An attempt at a 55-word story.

For once in office before time and the computer doesn't start. Emails to reply, if only the machine comes to life.

Check the wires, they're fine; switch off and switch on the system, nothing happens.
No one is around. The watchman enters, "How come in office on a Sunday? Should I switch on the Mains?

Update: 08:35 p.m. Another one.

The public waits impatiently as the timer counts down to zero. Fifteen, fourteen...the engines roar to life; eleven, ten... the honking reaches a crescendo; seven, six...one by one vehicles of all shapes and sizes pass by; three, two, one...he's the last man waiting for the traffic signal to turn green. Right seems so wrong on Pune's roads.