Writer's Journey

  Liam fiddled with the strap of his bag, trying to let out his anxiety. He took a deep breath, and decided to get it over with. Entering the school, he quickly made his way through the crowd. He stopped at the front office’s desk, where the traffic of students was thinner. Pulling his hood down, he coughed lightly to get the attention of the woman behind the desk.  She looked up from her monitor, bright red manicured nails tapping at the keyboard even as she stopped looking. Almost immediately upon seeing Liam, her face twisted into a scowl. She eyed him suspiciously, and Liam resisted the urge to comment on her smudged lipstick. “Back again, are you? Get to class.” He sighed softly, even as she continued glaring at him. “I don’t know which class to go to.” It seemed as though the statement reminded her of the note that had been sent through the principal the previous week. Clearly, she must have thought it was fake, as everyone had assumed. Liam was beginning to grow tired o...

  William waits patiently in the alleyway, sandwiched awkwardly between the mold-covered walls and noxious trash bags. It wasn’t really an ideal environment to be sitting, but he had become used to it. This was the sixth time this week that he had come to this spot, and he had been coming here for a few months now. William was awaiting the arrival of someone. He didn’t know exactly when his expected guest would arrive, but it was always around noon-time. Nobody would disturb him anyways, since the alleyway belonged to the bakery next to it. And that bakery belonged to him. The baker listened to the sound of the crowds outside his hiding spot. It was lunch-time, and many apprentices and shop-hands had left their masters for the hour to grab lunch at the local inn. He had learnt a lot of things by simply listening to them speak. “It’s a fiend, that’s what it is!” Cried one man, and William could see him wipe oil from his hands onto an apron. “Madam Rue’s damned cat never stays in one...

  A day ago, on 9th October 2145, General Prabhakar had been in the heart of the Kashmir War. He had been ordering his men to do their work, organising supplies and ensuring the safety of refugees. He had earned much respect from his men for his calm demeanour even in desperate situations, and was proud of his ability to stay rational. But after being called away from the field at a critical time, this ability of his was beginning to feel tested. The Indian general was sure there were many other officers in the military who were far better-equipped than him to deal with meetings and conferences, yet he had been ordered to attend one of them in New Delhi. However, this provided him with an opportunity he didn’t have previously. An opportunity to end the war altogether. “Troop morale is at an all-time low!” General Lakhan announced, her booming voice shaking him out of his thoughts. “The video released on social media platforms a week ago caused immense turmoil across the country.” P...