Fiction by Luna

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Sadia was the first one to notice it. They spent a hectic fun filled day at a fair just outside of Cumilla town in Bangladesh. Eshrar was tired from running around the stalls. He was ten years old then and Sadia was six. They were coming home on a rickshaw. The parents sat on the seat. He stood on the pedestal, in-between his father’s knees, leaning back on his chest. Eshrar’s father held onto his shoulders so he did not fall. Sadia sat on mother’s lap. Eshrar was busy rummaging through the cellophane chocolate wrapper. Through one corner of the eyes he could see the rickshawpuller’s bare feet pedalling away in front of him. The sun had set by then. Traces of daylight that linger on for a while even after the sun retires had also disappeared. Yet Eshrar did not wonder how he could still see the rickshawpuller’s feet. by Luna | (2) comment
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Luna joined fictionthis on Wednesday 14th of May 2008. This talented author is an active member of the site, has submitted 2 fiction(s) thus far and voted for 18. Show some love and leave your comments and feedback below their fictions.

Historical Fictions

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Oh please God, No More! I groan inwardly while trying to maintain an air of cool composure paying particular attention to posture.  Back straight, hands clasped on my lap, lips slightly curled with a suggestion of a smile and eye contact.   Focus, Focus! I think to myself while trying to ignore the itching on my back that started without warning.  It takes all my effort to keep the hands clasped together firmly instead of a frantic back scratch. Yeah that’s it girl, keep that smile in place, exude non-timid and non-arrogant confidence.   by Luna | (3) comment