He was lying on the floor climaxing his masterpiece, resting his chest on the shiny tiled floor, moving his legs back and froth. The floor looked messy with disheveledly dropped crumbled papers and crayons.
“Ayushhh”, called out an incited feminine voice from behind.
She then frantically stacked the green and pink crayons back to crayon box.
“Ayush ! Sky is not green. It’s blue. Plants are not pink. They’re green. How many times do i have to tell this to you”
“Atleast not in this paper, mumma”, he said innocently.

Akhil Sreedhar | © Quill revolution

Image source : pinterest


The house is empty. I’m on the bed; legs covered in blanket.

As clouds hid the sun. I switched on the lights for rescue.

They think i’m scared of dark.

Which i’m not.

I’m scared of things they whisper, and murmur when the lights goes down. The Brutal. Violent. Things, they make me do to me.

Image source : pinterest

© Akhil Sreedhar | Quill revolution