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 Category:  General Fiction
  Posted: November 24, 2018      Views: 91

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English language teacher;married with two sons.loves music ,books,cats,(dogs also)longs to live in a village,but settled in a city.Deeply spiritual ,my pet hate is war and Iam in awe of Meryl Streep.

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Flash fiction
"A Summer Night" by Sanku

Somewhere an owl hooted. Philip wondered how owls could survive in a city like this. Perhaps they would feed on mice that scurried across its alleyways. As he strolled along he looked at the clear, star studded sky. No clouds scudded along and a half moon hung as if suspended from invisible threads.
He turned into Marshal's Road. Thank God the multiplex was close to his apartment building. He always walked back after a night show.
A faint sound of a gate opening and closing alerted him. Sounds of footsteps followed him. It continued as he walked half way down the road, a few blocks before the left turn he had to take. He turned to take a look at the owner of the steady steps to see a man dressed in black, complete with a hood, holding what looked like a bundle. The figure stopped and looked down at his left wrist as if to check the time. Philip quickened his steps.

As he turned left into the Temple Street he looked back once again. The man stood watching his progress.With a chilly disquiet enveloping him he crossed the road and walked the four blocks to his apartment gate.

"Good movie, sir?", a yawning Ramki asked opening the gate. Slipping inside he moved behind the gate post and peered over the wall. The black clad figure was slowly turning onto the Temple Street. He walked up to the green trash bin and looked around. The street was empty and he then carefully lowered the bundle into the bin, turned and walked away.

It suddenly struck Philip that the way he disposed of his bundle was strange. Normally people threw the trash into the bins.But he had carefully lowered it.
He chided himself.At 72 he'd better keep away from other people's business.

A light breeze teased his grey hair and he heard a faint cry. He listened. Kittens mewing? Is it a baby's cry?

"Listen, Ramki, it is the sound of a baby, isn't it?

Ramki listened and nodded. "What's wrong sir?"

"Open the gate and come with me."

Ramki followed Philip. The crying became more distinct and they peered into the trash bin.

"My god Ramki! it is a baby."

He quickly lifted the bundle and as he unwrapped, the baby's scream became very loud.
It would barely be three or four days old. After three children and eight grand children, he was expert enough to know that the child's cry was healthy.

With a stunned Ramki watching, Philip took out his cell phone and dialed 100.

Flash Fiction Writing Contest contest entry


Author Notes
A few months back a night patrol policeman rescued a new born baby from a trash bin near the General Hospital. I am not sure where the blame lies . One more example of human depravity.Thank you tmeighan for this picture.
100 is the police control room number (like 911 in US, I think)
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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