Showing tantrums

I’ve never understood why some people throw tantrums. It terrifies me a lot when I see someone doing so. I’m sure for them it’s a dramatic appeal… a way to seek attention… to get what they want; but to me who is a spectator to their actions (like a lot of you, who would’ve found yourselves at the same spot) — it simply seems like they are having fits of some kind.

Age group doesn’t matter when throwing tantrums. The younger ones roll on the ground crying their hearts out; whereas, the elder ones yell all around throwing things randomly at first and then aiming to harm someone or anyone.

A Hiking Trip

This is a story for Friday Fictioneers, which is hosted by Rochelle. Every week you are challenged to write a 100 word story based on a photo.

Thanks to Jan Wayne Fields for this week’s photo and also to Rochelle for hosting the challenge.

Thanks to all the readers for their time, too. For this week I’m happy to share two stories with everyone. I hope you enjoy them both.  🙂

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Story A:  A Hiking Trip

We met after 10 years. We wanted to do something adventurous. Hiking was decided.

We reached the top. The camp was set. The night came with millions of stars and…


“Jim are you al’ right?”

“…mosquitoes… I think… aren’t you all…”

“No. They aren’t. The night’s beau… rememb….”

So it’s just me, they are in love with.

I missed my bed… pillows and…. Between sleeping and staying awake… I’m sure — I heard a roar or a hiss. Anyways, tiredness had hijacked me and I slipped into Phu! Phu! Gruuu!

Morning was real. Words tumbled out: “Thank God! I’m alive!”


Story B:  A life in flying

It was the highest plunge. He had always loved heights. Some said, “He’s crazy!”

“A bird! Finally I’m flying like a bird.” he said. His arms were wide open as they were soaking freedom. A bird flew next to him. Chee! Cheewp!

In the operation theatre the doctors and the nurses were trying to find his pulse. It was getting feebler.

He was flying higher.

He had loved the place for its height, peace and solemnity.

“We are losing his pulse, doctor.” The machine echoed teeet!…teet!…teeee!

But he, was already flying high.