My Petridish

Imagination is the fire of life…

Category: Stories (Page 2 of 2)

Curious Case of Mrs. Willoway

Curious case of Mrs. Willoway

Curious case of Mrs. Willoway

I consider myself rather an old man. I take walks sometimes with my neighbor’s pet frizzly bear who they fondly call “Dodo Darling”, I do not find anything dodo-ish or darling about this bear that weights almost 60 kg more than I and I never think about that bear accidentally falling on my poor little back or I’d die even thinking that! It’s not that I am not fond of animals, I just love my life a little more than my neighbors do. I once asked my neighbor why name the bear after a flightless bird of prehistoric times? To which the forest ranger said, “that’s offensive Chaudhury, are you saying this only because my poor Dodo can not fly either? Look at my little darling, she likes you so much she is keeping you healthy by taking you on walks!” That conversation ended once I was made the pet of his pet! “Come on Dodo” I said to the big frizzly bear as we started out for that day’s evening walk.

My home was between the forest ranger’s house being just near the small mountain. Dodo seems to love the black berries growing in the mountain’s foot. There are many jungles here which makes life in the hills pretty much interesting. There’s one school for high-class brats just up the hill but Dodo seems to like few of them too, I blame it on the berried they feed her on their visit to the small town in the mountain’s lap. Once the athlete girl asked if she can ride Dodo to which my obvious answer was no. I did not want an angry bear running after me for letting it in the lose hands and I didn’t know if Dodo would like that since she was a circus bear. Yes, right that’s where Mr. Bakshi had rescued the bear from. The girl tried anyway, Dodo became anxious and the girl was later on admitted to the school hospital for a broken leg. Me and Dodo went to visit her with the pensies that grew well in my experiment garden that season. But this is not story of Dodo, you pensies! Duh, I get offtrack, happens a lot with me these days.

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That Woman Across The Street

If you are thinking this is how I met the girl of my dreams you will be disappointed. I was sitting in Cafe Paris right across the street from Library of Greenich, people were hurrying across the square returning home or going to their odd evening jobs all too busy to notice a tiny young man sitting in the mahogany chair across plate full of Nanny’s chicken pri-pri burger and fries with tomato ketchup. The early summer evening and the busy street made me want to paint a colorful picture of the vibrant life that Greenich held in its heart. Thinking to myself I was chewing the first bite of my chicken burger when I saw her step out of the library. She took out a cigarette from her tiny dark blue clutch, lit it and took a puff. She was looking at people and then at the sky and the pebble street as she smoked. The wind was playing with her green lacy dress and she was smiling as if she knew that half the men stole a look at her before they hurried across the streets. I had stopped eating and I was lost in her mesmerizing but bizarre beauty.

Suddenly she turned towards me and her dark black eyes narrowed, oh God I was exposed! I turned back to my burger just to look in her direction a few moments later and she stepped down the pebble street onto the main road, holding her hand out signaling the cars to slow down so she can cross the street. I buried half the burger inside my mouth in a hurry and tried to look busy but it was not helping anymore. She walked towards me with a mischievous smile still smoking.

“Is this seat taken?” She beamed at me.

I am sure I stared at her few seconds before I answered, “No.”

She set across the table looking at me like she was trying to measure what kind of guy I was. “I am sorry I didn’t mean to stare.” I blubbered attempting to not be judged as a lecherous man. To which she laughed and asked, “Man? What are you? 20?”

I blushed. “I am Rohan. I am 21. You?”

Her face became serious all of a sudden and she whispered, “Shhh, I am Anastasia. You can call me Ann. And you mustn’t be asking a woman’s age!”

“How else am I to know your age?” I inquired.

“You can look up the writer’s database in the Greenich Library.” She laughed again, her laugh was beautiful like booming roses on a sunny morning. “You here to study?”

“No. I am but a traveler. It’s my last day in this city.”

She took a fry from my dish and turned away, looking at the busy street,”So, how do you like my city? Found anything special?” She asked.

“I loved The Knight Museum and the Church. People here are quite busy and polite.”

“Hmmm, boy If you call yourself a traveler you should know that visiting a city museum doesn’t count.  A city is like a woman, you have to explore it one step at a time.” She took out another cigarette from her purse, “do you mind?” She looked at me with questioning eyes.”I don’t like women that smoke.” I said.  She sighed before she lit her cigarette almost ignoring my hatred, “What a pity.”

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