Locked out


I was standing outside my room, a pizza box in my hand as I tried to call my AirBnB host after midnight. No answer. I was locked out.


I was in Hamilton, it was my first solo trip after getting my license. ( I will post about my trip soon. ) The drive was great, the event in Hamilton was great as well.

That day, I had late lunch & I thought I would be able to skip dinner. After I reached my ( AirBnB ) home, just before midnight, I realized I was hungry. So I locked my room, kept the room key in my jacket and went to pick up a pizza that I just ordered.

I picked up the pizza, got back home and was about to open my door when I checked my jacket. I checked it again. Nothing.

I checked under my seat in my car. Nothing.

I went back to the pizza place. Nothing.

I texted my host to see if he had a spare key. No response.

I tried to see if my room’s windows can be opened from outside. Nope.

I was panicking at this point. I wasn’t hungry anymore. Realization hit me like a brick:

‘I am in a different city, I don’t know anybody and I can’t legally drive back home because my license has restrictions. I would have to sleep on couch. Hopefully no one else at the house makes a big deal out of it. ‘

There was nothing I could do.


When I partially finished my pizza, I realized I could do something.

I could pick the lock.

I knew I cannot cause any damage to the room or the lock. I can’t make noise either. There were other people in the house who were sleeping and it would make me feel even worse if I woke them up after midnight.

I sat in the lounge near the makeshift kitchen. I had access to some cutlery. I Googled
how to pick a lock and a site suggested using a butter knife.

There was a few knifes I could use. I had hope now. I abandoned my lackluster pizza and picked up the knives. The site said that try to insert the tip of the knife into the keyslot. Turn it just as you would turn the key.

First knife didn’t work. It was just to thick for the keyslot.

Second one went in the slot but I couldn’t turn it. I guess it wasn’t deep enough.

Third time’s the charm I guess. The lock clicked open and I was in my room.

I was euphoric. I didn’t have to spend my night crawled on an uncomfortable couch, cold and tired. I wasn’t tired anymore, I could have stayed up all night if I wanted just from the rush of successfully unlocking the door.

I did eventually sleep, after finishing my book ( Jurassic Park ) and my pizza. My solo trip was great. I had plenty of things to talk about but every time someone asked me about my trip, I began with how I was locked out.

NaNoWriMo: Halfway Update


This is not my first NaNoWriMo. It is my third attempt, and the only time I succeeded in finishing my story was the very first year. I liked the story at the time, but if I read my words now I realize little in terms of a story. Last year I had no idea what to write so I wrote barely 2k words before I gave up.

This year I had a great idea, I loved the idea so much that I woke up from a dream, made a note of the idea and slept back again. The dream is vaguely fresh in my head.

I knew early on that I might not be able to keep up with the daily goal. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to finish my story this month. When I sit down and write the words do pour out but I hardly have time to write daily. I would rather read a book, which I wholeheartedly do.

According to the site, I am supposed to have 25k words down by today. I have about 6 to 7k words down yet. In fact, I am only through to the first three chapters of my supposed story.

There has been one good thing though: I know that if I have to keep writing, all I need is a half hour sprint. I was able to maintain a daily half hour sprint a month ago and I am sure I can do it again. I might just finish this story eventually so I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Fiction: Characters in Bookworld?


Credits: Buzzfeed Books, FB

 

(I saw this on Facebook and I had to write on this!)

John could see the train coming in the tunnel, the beacon becoming brighter. Newmarket train Station in Auckland was extremely crowded. Considering the station had every line passing through it, it meant it was as important as Britomart Transport Centre. However, John had this stinking feeling that he had been here before even though he had never.

He had seen the train on different stations before too, he could guess he had seen the train driver before. The station masters in their yellow high visibility jacket were standing at the yellow line of the platform to ensure that no one crosses it as the train was almost at the station, a few seconds away. The girl next to him was playing Candy Crush on her iPhone, and his feeling intensified. He had seen that girl before, he just couldn’t recall when. He frowned, trying to remember when had he seen a scene which was so similar, the train light shining down the tunnel, the girl and the people. The loudspeakers boomed saying “Train for Swanson is arriving on platform 1, please stand behind the yellow line”

The wind blew across the station and someone lose their purple scarf. That purple scarf, he thought as it kept flowing and slammed into his face. He knew now, all of this had happened before. He had been here on the station before, seen the Candy Crush playing girl before right here and that scarf had hit him in his face before. Everything had happened before, only it really hadn’t. How? Why?

The train whoozed past him, slowing down and stopped, the door right in front of him. People pressed the green button to open the doors. He just stood there, the purple scarf had tied itself to his neck now and there was someone in his periphery. Another girl, no not a girl this time but an old woman. He realised that the scarf belonged to the woman and he apologised. Untying the scarf he handed it to her and smiled, the old woman smiled back. This was new. He could recollect some of the things which had happened last time. But last time? It was his first time here on the station wasn’t it?

He was no longer sure. He was sure that the previously he entered the train. After that what happened he was not sure. He had an interview to get to but he was too lost in his thoughts. The Candy Crush girl stood near the now opened door, the old woman was making her way to the reserved seats. He knew he had got in the train the last time.

This time, he didn’t want to. So he didn’t and slowly the train doors closed with a beeping sound signalling closing doors. He had just wasted his ticket but he didn’t care. He had a strange feeling that this was bigger than any other job waiting for him.

He knew that his story was written differently. Now it has started fresh.

Time


Liberty Lion: Time

‘Circles? ’ I asked.

Grandpa lay gasping for breath. He is a stubborn old man; he wouldn’t admit he is too frail for a hike. We left our house about two hours ago to reach the summit of the hill. He would always verbosely describe his childhood achievements and all of the stories would have him and the hill in common. So today I challenged him to climb the hill again. Grandma was furious at me to voice even such a dare, but grandpa did it. And whenever he was winded, he would tell the best tales. He began.

‘You would want me to spin a story about my childhood or some other person’s life changing story? ’

I nodded. Old but still sharp my grandpa, I thought proudly.

‘Truth is this Gunther: all the tales are similar.’ he looked around the hill again, at the tree who’s shade we sat on and the valley where our house and farms lay, at the lake where we would go swim and fish.

‘My grandfather also brought me to hikes. He loved them. Then we stayed in a different place but when I bought this house I had one requirement: a nearby hill’. He nodded and took a deep breath as if he tried to soak in the nature. I wasn’t following his harangue but I was rapt. My grandpa told tales that brought the entire village to a standstill, there’s something about his words that bonds you to them, to him.

‘Just like my grandpa I am doing the same with you. And if there’s anything I can tell about life is that it is a circle. ’

‘Circle of Life? ’ I asked. He seemed pleased with my answer and smiled. He raised his hand and ruffles my hair. I hated whenever someone else did it but I liked it when he did that. ‘So life repeats itself? ’ I asked again dubious of my own comprehension. He thought about it for a while ‘Most of the times.’ he knew I didn’t understand completely so he let loose a sigh and started again.

‘Read history son, it is recurring. Some tyrant rises, some heroes die, so on and so forth. Take people son, they always make the same mistake again. Life is cruel because it does the same trick on you all the time and you fall for it. ’ Now I understood his point. I was only 9 year old then but the implications of the same wouldn’t dawn on me until I was 25 and broke. But I had one more question for him. ‘And time grandpa? ’ He smiled again, I remember a hint of sadness was there ‘Of course time is a round too. Why do you think clocks are circular?’

By Mayur Remember

 

Check Out Other’s Responses:

https://bencnicholson.wordpress.com/2015/07/22/literary-lion-time/

https://mandibelle16.wordpress.com/2015/07/23/literary-lion-this-thing-called-time/

https://deliriousantidotes.wordpress.com/2015/07/23/hourglass/

Time to Leave

Hopeful 

Alice Accepts Her Fate

https://thisismyironlung.wordpress.com/2015/07/24/tainted/

https://livingonchi.wordpress.com/2015/07/24/literary-lion-time/

https://rileyreedauthor.wordpress.com/2015/07/25/literary-lion-time-time-will-heal/

Literary Lion – A Homonym Too Far

http://mwlangridge-awritersjourney.com/2015/07/26/the-clock-on-her-wall/

https://livehomeandaway.wordpress.com/2015/07/26/seeds-of-time/

Time

https://vnktchari.wordpress.com/2015/07/28/literary-lion-time-my-reflections-on-time/

In Time…Who’s going to remember?

https://sonyca.wordpress.com/2015/07/28/time/

#22 Breath Fire (Part 2)


(Check out previous post, part 1)
Continuation, fiction:

King Reaves loved this hall. It smelled like fire and smoke, like ash. And its his home. But his father lost this. How could he!

He never forgave his father. For being a loser. Dragons could not lose. We are invincible, even our names would ingrain fear in enemies’ bones.

And when we turn and soar up in the skies….

‘You summoned me, Majesty’ Garge said as he came into the hall. Garge was every bit as what a dragon should be. Huge, at least 6 feet tall, strong and muscular. Long black hair, always wearing his accustomed white coat with black trousers. Carrying a named broadsword at his back.

The Last King’s Broadsword, Icebreaker. Given to Garge as an honor for being far better at swordsmanship than any other in the realm. Or whatever is left of the realm.

‘Did you know my Father, the senile lizard made his last stand here twenty years ago?’ Reaves began ‘He turned here, and breathed fire at each and every soldier who came up that door. It is said that he nearly burned the King himself. The enemies waited till he tired and then they attacked all at once from all directions possible and killed him. Well most of them were burned their armor melted and stuck to their skins, only a handful survived. Not without burns. That was the bravest thing my Father did.’

Reaves knew Garge admired his Father. But he liked teasing nonetheless. Garge said nothing in reply, just stared like he always did.

It was said that he always stood that way, broadsword at his back in practice arena. Never moved and made his opponents sweat. By the time any movement happened, the opponent’s hands were so sweaty that they had difficulty holding the sword. And also because Garge was lightening fast.

‘Wesley says scouts spotted some  ships across the sea. He is sure that the enemy, whoever they are, are coming.’ Reaves said.

‘Your permission, Majesty?’ Garge began, sounding all humble. Reaves nodded waiting to hear his best friends honest words. Words he was sure will be contrary to his own.

‘Wesley would pick a fight with his dead mother because he likes the adrenaline rush. And because he would be hard for a night’s whoring then. You seriously going to have’ his word on imminent battle?’

They both stated at each other for a second the burst out laughing. None of them had believed Wesley’s word. Yet they had to talk about this.

‘The two captives?’

‘They swear they are alone. Here to catch a dragon. Guess they are caught off guard’

They eventually went to the get their lunch. All the high members of the realm joined them on the table. There was Wesley, he was another hunter like Garge, and was always desperate for a fight. He was a captain in a small platoon. Deacon, an elderly general, one who rescued Reaves and Garge twenty years ago leads the armies, maintains peace and handles all judicial functions. Vagh handles the exchequer of the people, levies taxes. Most of them are Reaves childhood friends.

Pearl joined them, she was the beauty of the realm and Reaves betrothal. Every man who could like Reaves, was jealous because he would marry Pearl.

As ate, hands filthy with grease and half drunk on rum a soldier rushed into the room and urgently spoke to Deacon’s ears.

‘Where are your manners soldier?! You are here in front of your King and you dare ignore asking his permission’ Wesley roared.

Reaves and Garge share a tiny smile, knowing full well this was what Wesley does best. But Deacon had lost all the color from his face. Everyone soon noticed that and urged him to speak.

‘Majesty, on the sea.’ He took a deep breath and continued ‘There’s ships inbound. Apparently hundreds of them.’

Thanks For Reading
Itsmayurremember

#21 Breath Fire (Part 1)


(Since I missed a couple of days in my routine, and I have 10 posts left, I’ll make a long fictional fantasy story. This can be seen as a continuation of a previously written fiction:
Let’s Catch A Dragon.)

Fiction:

Garge hated this hall. It was too big. Too stark a reminder of the dark days of the past. Of the days when they walked as their True Form.

As Dragons.

They were proud. Egotistical. They thought of themselves as invincible. And when they lost, they were too few to even hold hostage. So they were left where they were. Discarded after conquer. Some women they took as hostages and slaves. After all, men liked to brag about their conquests. Garge’s sister was one those who taken. He was five at that time.

Now, twenty years later, fire lands were at peace. Subdued. But like always, pride returns. And so they returned to their own lands. To this colossal palace. Because of their King. Because of the son of the King who lost twenty years ago.

Because of the two lone warriors who had traveled far from their lands to capture dragons. They swore no one ordered them. They swore they were alone, no armies were marching behind them to battle. But their King saw this as an act of war.

So, after twenty years the Dragons were preparing for war.

Thanks For Reading
Itsmayurremember

#4 Eureka!


Fiction:

Nothing was coming up!

He sighed, frustrated as he prepared his bathtub.

Two years it has been since he last wrote a story. Two years. His driest spell yet. It was not as if he couldn’t get ideas, they were a dime a dozen.

But none that were absolutely amazing. None were even close to his previous movies. All three of his previous movies were blockbusters, giving him a national award each.

He became the most famous screenwriter of industry, every producer wanted him. Every actor wanted to act on his play, and every reporter wanted to know what goes on in his mind.

But that was two years ago. Every idea that lit up in his mind, he himself took it apart. Nothing was good enough.

So in desperation he did things. He got drunk, a lot. More often that ended up with him landing in an unknown part of town with a girl whose name he couldn’t recall.

He got high a lot. That ended up with a overdose case which could have killed him. He still thanks God that he was nearby a hospital. Never again he touched drugs.

He read novels. Attended plays. For some inspiration. Something that could satisfy his own critic.

Eventually he hosted parties. Not for booze, he never touched it. The wine he held in his hand but never drank. He talked to the guest. All of the guest.

He asked them about their lives. Their loves, their dislikes. Their history, their dreams and their fears. Everything that he could scratch off them he did.

That made him a lot more popular. Everyone gave him a good time, everyone liked him. Once in a party he was a bigger cynosure then all the actresses.

But nothing made sense. Now he wanted an out. He had enough money to settle down. He could not work his entire life and still his children would have enough. He was thinking of going to some remote place, nearby a beach and lived there.

Nothing to do. Relaxation for rest of his life. His Elysium.

Dreaming of what and how his house will look like, he noticed the ripples produced by his body in the bathtub. He looked closely.

Saw the ripple getting weaker the more distance it traveled. And saw little water spilling out of the tub.

And click!!

He got an idea. Perfect idea. He got up, dashed out of his bathroom stark naked, yelling ‘Eureka! Eureka!’

Thanks For Reading
Itsmayurremember