📝 Writer’s Prompt: *Unspoken Conversations*

She sat at the edge of the bench, eyes fixed on the empty playground.

He joined her without a word.

A soft sigh. A stolen glance. His hand brushed hers, just for a second.

No apology. No explanation.

But in that quiet moment, the silence said it all—
“I missed you too.”

✍️ Written by Shazia
#WritersCafe #DailyPrompt #FlashFiction

Title: The Last Supper

The dinner table was set for three.

Chicken roast with rosemary, mashed potatoes shaped into perfect little hills, wine so red it could be mistaken for spilled secrets.

Elena chewed quietly, her fork scraping against the porcelain plate. Across from her, her husband, Raj, buttered his bread with the slow precision of a man preparing for war. Their daughter, Mira, ten and too perceptive for her age, sat between them—eyes flicking from one parent to the other, like watching a tennis match where no one served.

No one said a word.

But everything was loud.

The silence screamed of last night’s phone call Elena hadn’t meant to overhear. Of the name she didn’t recognize. Of Raj’s voice—lower, softer, the way he used to speak only to her.

The knife in her hand didn’t tremble, but her chest did. The sound of chewing, of swallowing, of glasses being lifted and set down—these were the only survivors of the battlefield.

Mira reached for the salt.

Raj passed it.

Their fingers didn’t touch, but Mira’s eyes narrowed. She sensed it, too—the change in weather without a forecast.

At last, Raj looked up. Met Elena’s gaze.

He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. Just once. Barely a breath.

Not here. Not now. Not in front of her.

He nodded, silently.

The conversation happened in that look. Regret. Guilt. A plea. A refusal.

Mira didn’t understand the language, but she understood the silence.

She excused herself from the table, her plate half-full. Neither parent stopped her.

They kept eating. Saying nothing.

Saying everything.


✍️ Written by Suprobhat Bhattacharyya
#WritersCafe #DailyPrompt #FlashFiction

Sir mujhe bhi earn karna h plsss

Pleas help me

Soon it will start. The rain is splahing down and drowning nature itself, relentless in its persistent to draw the sky blue. Some might say that a new ocean is forming right in front of their eyes. The cow has sensed it a while ago and moved, but we stupid human always busy in talking and observing missed the warnings.
No mouth were shut, no moment of inert attention, only the constant noise - just like those noisy rain buckets falling from the sky.

Dozent of people get caught and drown into the sea. Struggeling and fighting their hold on to their lives. Screaming and punching in all directions. Noise and violence the last stance of their lifes and yet underneath them, sink in heavenly peace, the abundent lifless bodies.

The cow looks up, sees it all and moves indifferent slightly forward eating the remaining grass. The loud and yet silence of mother nature. Everything and nothing at the same time - the stark contrast between Life and death.

Stolen Glances
The smell of petrichor, is like a revelation of one's longing emotions.
With each wisp of air in the lungs, Rida tried to compose herself. Her racing heart was boundless, as if it would explode like a ticking bomb.
She was gasping for air, like a fish out of water fighting for its life.

That night after the rain, Rida saw Arvind across the table at her favorite restaurant, where she came with her husband Sameer.

Their eyes met after a decade, searching for answers of unaddressed questions.

She tried to portray to be non chalant to Arvind but her flushed cheeks were an instant giveaway of how she felt.

Promises broken, like pieces of shattered glass reverberating across these past few years.

Years passed by with no phone calls, no explanations and no confrontation.
A love which felt to be eternal, came to an end like a flickering candle shushed by a windy night.

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