Flash Fiction

The Scene

plane-crash

‘Let’s go over the sequence once more.’ Aman Khan, Bollywood’s biggest superstar, was onto his fifth cigarette of the day.

‘Sure, sir.’ The director pointed at the ruined carcass of the plane, ‘You’ll be on the top, Sir. Ma’am will come running from that direction.’

‘Cool yaar!’ Aman stubbed his cigarette. ‘Where’s Shriya?’

‘Ma’am is inside the plane, Sir.’

‘Ask her to hurry up.’

‘Sorry, Sir. I’m ready.’ Shriya, the heroine, rushed towards Aman.

‘What’s this sweetheart?’ Aman droned. ‘You delayed me. Time’s money.’

Post take, Aman draped his hand over Shriya’s shoulder, ‘That was a great take, sweetheart.’

‘Thank you, Sir.’

‘Tomorrow’s my 54th birthday. Why don’t you come over to my room tonight? Let’s celebrate – just the two of us. What say?’ He winked.

Shriya looked over to her chair. The burnt remains of a baby’s shoe she had recovered from the plane smiled forlornly at her. She wished the likes of Aman were on that plane instead.

‘Sure, Sir.’

Linking up with Tina Basu for #FridayFotoFiction

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “The Scene

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s