painting by Wilhelm Gause (1900)

Guests of all ages, dressed in their finest silk, glided across the dance floor gracefully as the melody of orchestral music flooded the room. The younger ones ran through, knocking over some unsuspecting grandparent every now and then and little giggles could be heard from underneath the pink tables, which served as a hiding spot for the children, that was decorated with the most elaborate bouquets of flowers. Splendid chandeliers hung from the ceiling over the ballroom whilst the pillars were adorned by dark green creepers that had little yellow flowers all along.

A young man, of perhaps seventeen, danced…


The Boulevard Montmartre on a Winter Morning. Camille Pissarro, 1987. Oil on canvas.

Emma waited by the window for an hour. But none came. Her hair was not in its usual braid and in its place was a ponytail, held together by a single ribbon, while several strands of hair that had come loose gently framed her round face. She did not bother to brush it out of her face but waited patiently, staring out the window intently. Another hour passed and much to her disappointment, the only visitor was the mailman who left some letters in the post box.

A voice from somewhere downstairs called for her.

“Emma dear, could you fetch…

Photo by Bookblock on Unsplash

Coming up with creative storylines sometimes seems extremely daunting. If you’ve ever felt like you had no creativity to come up with a great idea, you’re not alone. I’ve been there too. But that’s not because we’re not creative geniuses; it’s because sometimes, there’s a trick to figuring out how our creativity works.

Over the years, a lot of people have told me that I had to be original, come up with something entirely new, something nobody could have thought of. They told me that the best way I could get better at writing was to always write something new…

Fiction series

Photo by Alina Kompa on Unsplash

Before I even opened my eyes, I heard the sound of crashing waves. Water, I thought to myself. I opened my eyes to see us standing on a cliff that overlooked the ocean, and I inched closer to the edge and realized it was at least fifty feet high. The bleak landscape seemed to expand endlessly on all sides as the ocean waves crashed onto the pebble beach far below. The grass looked pale and was dotted with tiny yellow flowers, and I turned to the boy as I asked, “Where are we?”

“Dover,” he said as he knelt down…

Photo by Gabriel on Unsplash

Sarah had never been in a relationship — she never knew if anyone ever even liked her that way before. Yet almost all her friends had relationships at some point, and they all came to her for the sanest relationship advice. She never quite understood why since she herself was so entirely confused about her own thoughts on what a relationship would look like, yet she seemingly gave her friends the best advice. Her best friend, Lizzie, often joked about how Sarah would get a boyfriend in college because the boys in her school didn’t match her standards. …

Fiction Series

Photo by Jeff Finley on Unsplash

“Isn’t this fun?” said Anna enthusiastically as she continued to stuff her face with pancakes that she had evidently drowned in way too much maple syrup.

“No,” I said. “It’s not fun. In case you forgot, you set our motel room on fire, and if the police found us, you could be arrested for committing arson. Even if you’re just a child.” I rolled my eyes as I stared out into the dark green woods from our table in a little diner that we had stopped at.

Anna, who didn’t seem to be listening to anything I was saying, naturally…

The Pic-Nic. Thomas Cole, 1846, oil on canvas.

He saw the silhouette of a young girl by the window of the large house by the lake. She was sitting at the table, with her pretty nose buried in a book as her lavender hair ribbon lightly fluttered with the breeze that blew through the open window. She was wearing a simple, yet elegantly beautiful dress in a light hue of yellow and looked like a fresh rose under the glinting sunlight. The room had large glass windows and a glass ceiling so, from the distance, the golden light illuminated the room, making her look almost divine.

The young…

Sindhuja Kancharla

writer, storyteller

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