My short story at Indimag - I, witness

He moved the curtain a bit, just a little bit, and peeped put. Across the road, in the shadows of the lamp post, waited the watcher. He closed the curtain quickly, wondering if he had been spotted and stubbed out his cigarette in the overflowing ash tray. And to think that he had actually quit the cancer stick! God! Now was not the time to worry about cancer. Right now dying of cancer almost seemed like a better way to go. He passed his hand over his overwrought brow. His mouth was dry. Where was that bottle of water he’d asked for? Some service in this lousy hotel. But he was in no position to complain. They’d given him a room facing the entrance, just like he’d wanted. No questions asked. He was sure he was the only guest in that place who was not availing of their rent-by-the hour facility. A place to hide, that’s what he’d wanted.  He’d been running and hiding for so long that it was killing him. How he wished for it to end…He kept the barrel of his gun on his forehead. No! He did not deserve to die!  The feel of the cold metal was in fact quite soothing. The gun – it was his new best friend.  Heck! He was tired. Sick and tired of hiding like a hunted animal. Being scared of shadows, living in the shadows, almost becoming a shadow himself. What had happened to his wildly successful life? He sat down on the faded, stained couch and mulled over the events that had led to his current situation...(Read more)


That is an excerpt form my story posted in the Kathasagar series at INDImag. Do drop in and read/comment and rate as you see fit. There are several other short stories in the Kathasagar series and some of them are pretty amazing.