The clacking of the typewriter keys resounded in the room, even as words started filling up the empty sheet of paper rolled in.
His words brought to life the lush forests where he wandered as a child, the crystal clear stream he drank from and the pine needles forming a soft bed for his nap. Of his village, his people, his family and his only love.
He wrote stories people waited to read. Using a paintbrush that he could no longer use lodged in his mouth to help him type, in the absence of hands that could no longer paint.
Linking my 100 Word Fiction Story based on the Photo Prompt with FridayFoToFiction Week 11, hosted by Tina and Me.
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That’s a sad story .Loved it till the last 2 lines. I don’t like sad endings .
Man! That came as a shocker in the end! Very well written, Mayuri!
Cheers
You write lovely stories with always a twist in the end. This one is little sad but very nicely written.
very well written, liked the concept.
Sad:(
Well written.
Love the story, but little sad at the end 🙁
Wow! love the images you have evoked with this post!!
Oh so sad! Didn’t see that coming! Lovely how you built up the story in so few words!
OMG, that’s so sad. But hats off to his will power.