Shailaza's Blog

Tag: short-story

  • NEW SHORT STORY: THE DOOR SHE OPENED

    She had lived in the house for twenty years, but last night, she discovered a door she had never seen before.

    It shouldn’t have been there.

    The wood was older than the house itself, its surface worn, its handle cold to the touch. A relic from a time she didn’t remember.

    She hesitated, then pushed it open. The door groaned—a sigh of something long-forgotten waking up.

    Inside, the room smelled of dust and damp earth. In the dim light, she saw small figures curled up on beds of discarded paper and broken quills. Their faces were smudged with ink, their eyes hollow, their breaths shallow.

    She shivered. “Who… are you?”

    One of the girls sat up, her voice quiet but achingly familiar.

    “We are the stories you left behind.”

    The others stirred, their whispers like rustling pages.

    “We are the ideas you ignored, the possibilities you abandoned, the words you were too busy to write.”

    She felt her knees go weak.

    The girl reached for her hand, her fingers ice-cold, yet pulsing with something alive.

    “Will you leave us again?”

    The door behind her creaked, as if waiting for her answer.

    Sherry exhaled, looking up from the page. “That story… it felt real.”

    Arin, sitting across from her, smiled knowingly. “Maybe because it is.”

    “You mean we really do leave stories behind when we ignore them?”

    “Haven’t you felt them?” Arin leaned closer. “The ideas tugging at your mind before sleep, the whispers of inspiration when you’re too busy to write them down? The abandoned stories don’t vanish, Sherry. They wait.”

    She shivered, her fingers tightening around her notebook. “So… what happens if I don’t return to them?”

    “The same thing that happens when you ignore any calling.” Arin’s voice softened. “They fade.”

    She looked down at the story again, the words alive beneath her fingertips. “Not this time.”

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Nine : Scrabble Again

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Nine : Scrabble Again

    The next evening, Arin arrived at Astha’s place for dinner, greeted by Shanaya’s mischievous grin.

    “You’re just in time,” Shanaya announced, arms crossed. “I challenge you to a rematch.”

    Arin smiled. “Scrabble?”

    “Scrabble,” Shanaya confirmed. “Last time, you got lucky.”

    Astha shook her head as she set the table. “He never wins, Shanaya. You just let him think he does.”

    Shanaya feigned offense. “Excuse me? I play fair.”

    Arin chuckled, rolling up his sleeves. “Alright, let’s settle this once and for all.”

    They set up the Scrabble board in the living room, and soon, the game was in full swing. Arin played with exaggerated confidence, throwing in words that made Shanaya groan.

    “That’s not even a word!” Shanaya protested, pointing at his latest attempt.

    Arin leaned back, feigning hurt. “It is. ‘Zenzic.’ Look it up.”

    Shanaya grabbed her phone. “If this is fake, I’m taking ten points off.”

    Astha, watching from the kitchen, chuckled. “He makes up half his words, you know.”

    Shanaya shook her head. “I’m onto you, Verma. You think you can charm your way into a win?”

    Arin grinned. “Is it working?”

    “No.”

    He sighed dramatically. “Then I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”

    As the game went on, Arin played fairly but still found ways to tease Shanaya, making sure she stayed on her toes. He let her win some rounds, just enough to keep things competitive, but his real focus was elsewhere—on Astha.

    Every time she passed by, he brushed his fingers against hers, a fleeting touch that sent shivers down her spine. When she refilled his glass, his hand lingered over hers for just a second too long. And when she bent down to grab something from the table, his gaze followed her in a way that would have made her blush if Shanaya hadn’t been sitting right there.

    Shanaya, oblivious to their secret, narrowed her eyes at them once in a while but said nothing.

    “You two are weird,” she finally muttered.

    Astha froze. “What?”

    Shanaya shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seem… different.”

    Arin smiled. “That’s because I’m losing. It’s messing with my mind.”

    Shanaya rolled her eyes. “That must be it.”

    Cooking Together

    After Scrabble, they headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Shanaya, conveniently, had a video call with her friend and excused herself, leaving Astha and Arin alone.

    The moment the door closed behind Shanaya, Arin moved closer. “Finally.”

    Astha gave him a warning glance. “Behave.”

    He grinned, sliding an arm around her waist as she reached for the ingredients. “I was behaving. You’re the one distracting me.”

    She huffed, stirring the sauce while trying to ignore the warmth of his hands on her hips. “You’re impossible.”

    “And yet, here I am.”

    She tried to focus, but he wasn’t making it easy. Every time she moved, he was there—his fingers grazing the small of her back, his lips brushing against her temple when she reached for the spices. When she turned to scold him, he caught her wrist and pulled her closer. “Arin,” she warned, but her voice lacked conviction.

    He leaned in, his lips barely an inch from hers. “Yes, wife?”

    She narrowed her eyes. “Shanaya could walk in any second.”

    He sighed dramatically, loosening his grip but not stepping away. “You’re no fun.”

    She smiled, tapping his chest with a wooden spoon. “And you’re too obvious.”

    He grinned, watching her with that familiar look that made her heart race. “You love it.”

    She sighed, turning back to the stove. “Unfortunately.”

    Arin chuckled, content for now. But he knew the night was far from over.

    Dinner and Suspicion

    When Shanaya returned, they were sitting at the table as if nothing had happened. But she wasn’t entirely convinced.

    As they ate, she observed them closely, her gaze flickering between them.

    “You two are definitely acting weird,” she said suddenly.

    Astha choked on her drink. “What?”

    Shanaya squinted at them. “I don’t know… something’s up.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe you’re just paranoid.”

    Shanaya shrugged. “Maybe.”

    But Astha could see it—the suspicion in Shanaya’s eyes. And she knew it was only a matter of time before her daughter put the pieces together.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Six: A New Understanding

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Sixty Six: A New Understanding

    Astha arrived in the office. She had barely settled at her desk when a coffee cup was placed beside her. She looked up to see Arin leaning casually against her desk, smirking.

    “Your favorite,” he said, tapping the cup lightly.

    Astha narrowed her eyes. “Thank you. Now go away.”

    Arin placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “Ouch. Is this how you treat your devoted husband?”

    “Arin.” She gave him a pointed look. “We talked about this.”

    He sighed, but the amusement in his eyes didn’t fade. “Fine, fine. I’m just here as your very professional editor-in-chief.”

    She scoffed. “Good. Then act like it.”

    He leaned in slightly. “But you do love it when I bring you coffee, don’t you?”

    Astha rolled her eyes. “Yes. And I also love silence.”

    He chuckled but finally relented, heading to his own office.

    The Office Dynamic

    To everyone else, Arin and Astha seemed to maintain their usual dynamic—professional, competitive, with just the right amount of sharp banter. But beneath the surface, something had shifted.

    When he reviewed her articles, she could feel the warmth in his gaze, the way he lingered slightly when handing her notes. When they crossed paths in the hallway, there was a fleeting brush of fingers, so quick that no one else would notice. And then there were the stolen glances—silent conversations held across the newsroom, a language only they understood.

    Shanaya, of course, was the first to pick up on it.

    One evening, as Astha was typing on her laptop at home, Shanaya plopped down beside her with a knowing smirk.

    “So, you and the boss man seem to be getting along really well these days.”

    Astha didn’t even look up. “We’ve always gotten along.”

    Shanaya snorted. “Oh please. Last month, you wanted to push him off a cliff.”

    Astha smiled. “That feeling still hasn’t gone away.”

    “But now, you’d probably jump after him.”

    Astha shot her a look, but Shanaya just grinned. “Mom, you look happy. Like… actually happy. It’s weird.”

    Astha sighed, closing her laptop. “Is it that obvious?”

    Shanaya nodded. “To me? Yes. To others? Maybe not yet. But it’s only a matter of time.”

    Astha exhaled. “I just… don’t want people gossiping. And I don’t want things to change.”

    Shanaya softened. “Mom, things have already changed. Maybe it’s time to just… go with it?”

    Astha stared at her daughter for a moment, then pulled her into a side hug. “When did you get so wise?”

    Shanaya grinned. “I’ve always been wise. You just never noticed.”

    A Private Moment

    That night, Astha stepped onto her balcony for some fresh air, only to find Arin standing on his own, waiting.

    He looked up when he saw her, his expression softening. “Couldn’t sleep?”

    She shrugged. “Just needed air.”

    He leaned against the railing. “So… how did I do today? Professional enough?”

    She smiled. “Surprisingly, yes. Though the coffee stunt was unnecessary.”

    “Not a stunt,” he corrected. “Just love.”

    Astha’s heart skipped a beat. She exhaled slowly. “Arin…”

    He studied her for a moment. “You’re overthinking again.”

    She sighed. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve been alone for so long, managing everything by myself. And now you’re here, slipping into every part of my life like you belong.”

    His voice was gentle. “Maybe because I do.”

    She looked away. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

    He stepped closer, tilting her chin up so she met his eyes. “You won’t.”

    She swallowed. “You’re awfully confident about that.”

    He smiled. “Because I know us. I know you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

    She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Then, finally, she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

    For the first time, Astha let herself believe him.

  • THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Nine: Something Real

    THE TIME KEEPER’S POEM: Chapter Fifty Nine: Something Real

    Morning light streamed through the hospital’s tinted windows, casting a soft glow over the waiting area. Astha stirred, shifting slightly before her eyes fluttered open. A familiar warmth rested over her shoulders. She blinked, looking down to find a blanket draped around her.

    Arin’s doing.

    She turned her head and found him sitting beside her, his eyes closed, his posture relaxed but alert even in rest. He had stayed.

    Astha swallowed, something tugging at her chest, but she quickly shook it off. Carefully, she adjusted the blanket and sat up, stretching. The quiet hum of hospital activity around her signaled the start of a new day.

    Moments later, a nurse approached. “Mrs. Mehra is being discharged. The doctor has cleared her to go home.”

    Relief flooded Astha, and she nodded. “Thank you.”

    She turned to Arin, who was now watching her, fully awake. “She’s being discharged,” she said softly.

    Arin nodded. “I’ll get the car.”

    Astha opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes told her it was pointless. He wasn’t going to leave her alone.

    The Drive Home

    The car ride was quiet, with only the soft hum of the engine filling the space between them. Astha sat in the back with her mother, keeping a hand on hers, while Arin focused on the road.

    Every few minutes, his gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, checking on them. He didn’t say much, but Astha didn’t need him to. His presence was enough.

    When they reached home, Astha’s father and Shanaya were already waiting at the doorstep. The moment the car stopped, Shanaya ran forward, her eyes shining with relief as she hugged her grandmother.

    Astha’s father embraced his wife gently, murmuring reassurances, before turning to Arin. Without hesitation, he pulled him into a warm hug.

    “Thank you, beta,” her father said, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

    Arin, momentarily taken aback, patted his back. “It’s nothing, Uncle.”

    Astha stood beside them, watching the exchange with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite name. Her father had always been reserved with strangers, but with Arin, it was as if he had known him for years.

    Her mother was settled into bed with Shanaya fussing over her, making sure she was comfortable. Astha’s father lingered in the room for a while, before finally nodding in satisfaction and stepping out.

    Astha turned to Arin, hands on her hips. “You should go home and rest. You’ve done enough.”

    Arin raised an eyebrow. “You’re kicking me out now?”

    “Yes,” she said firmly. “You have work, and so do I.”

    He studied her for a moment before smirking. “Alright, Mehra. But if you need anything, call me.”

    “I won’t.”

    “You will.”

    She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest refused to fade as she watched him leave.

    Once the door shut behind him, Astha exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. She walked into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water, but her mind wasn’t on the task. Instead, her thoughts wandered back to Arin.

    The way he had stayed. The way he had silently comforted her when she cried. The way he had made her smile despite the exhaustion weighing her down.

    She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

    Then, shaking her head, she muttered to herself, “Keep personal and professional separate, Astha.”

    Her heart, however, wasn’t so sure.