Marien Oommen

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

53 karma pts

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“BLONDE, YET UNMATCHED” by Marien Oommen

Submitted to Contest #292

Earlier that morning, the sun had dawned crispy bright over the Gulf Sea.A beautiful day just went by and now the sun was about to disappear into the sea. The trees seemed to be dancing in the breeze. The birds were singing their wild tunes over the Ber tree and eating of its fruit, freely given. The parrot signal was sounded across the sky and a couple of them were enough to created the ruckus.Juliet curled her long, lithe body on the hammock. She was in no mood to rise up and call it 'a day'.Clop, clop... the sound of those slender long le...

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“This Is No Skyfall ” by Marien Oommen

Submitted to Contest #260

The days were sunny. Sunflowers looking towards the sun showed all was well with the world and God was right up there in the heaven above. Good Papa George stretched his arms out like a bear, looking over the sands onto the distant sea waters. O for a ship to sail by! He adjusted his binoculars.But there was something nagging him real bad. He had started on this rant exactly three weeks earlier. As he grew in age and wisdom or something of that sort, his rants became more pronounced.There were some major issues at work he had to deal with a...

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“Memories Are Made of This” by Marien Oommen

Submitted to Contest #258

The book fell with a heavy thud right on her little toe.“Ahhhhh, that hurt.” Mia screamed in pain. “Whatsaa fuss? It’s just a book.” “Yes, but it's heavy! A tome of tomes, if you ask me.” “No big deal,” replied the man behind the paper. “Let me just fling it in your ear then. Lend me your ear, honey. I come to bury this tome, not praise its weight.” Mia sat down to check out the bomb that squished her toe. Its pages were old and crumbly. Somebody had scribbled on the front page…‘O Judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts, And m...

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“Moth Ado About Nothing” by Marien Oommen

Submitted to Contest #257

Moth came a-flying into the living room as the family lounged on the sofa after lunch. He had followed his natural homing instinct, and the garden door, left wide open, beckoned him inside. Mama was eating a generous slice of the sumptuous Christmas cake because it was the twelfth day of Christmas and ‘her true love’ had brought nothing else. The song was an annual recurrent betrayal of her romantic notions.Now there were two pretty women sitting on their high chairs leaning against the kitchen slab. One was Mama, her mouth full, checking ou...

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Author bio

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