Sharmishtha Basu is an unemployed artist, writer who is out to test her works, eagerly looking for publishers, publicists, literary agents and huge hearted generous readers, to see if they can help her to build an “unorthodox” career, a path followed by many before, some has been blessed with success, most have not, let us see what you make of her attempts! A failure or success- it all depends on you. These are pieces from her book, the book is available on createspace and amazon- This book is of course a collection of fantasy stories, starting from ghosts, demons, aliens to fairies and mermaids.
The bridge of her dreams
That’s what snapped her out of her sleep, the strange sound in room. She heard it as her senses struggled to come out of the haze created by tiredness and drugs.
It was not the voice of a baby, it was an evil voice, it sounded cruel, cold and centuries old- hollow. It was babbling something in an unknown language. But that was talking, not senseless cooing of a small baby. She could feel the sentences forming and the punctuations used.
She sat up on her bed, trying to grasp what was going on.
The sound was coming from her son’s crib. The nurse was not in the room, she quickly went to the crib, as fast as her groggy senses allowed her to. She has been drugged heavily by the doctor because the pregnancy and the delivery was a hellish experience.
“It will let you recuperate.” She has smiled warmly. “Poor girl! Sometimes it gets nasty during late pregnancy but I have never seen a case like yours.”
“Monalisa will take care of both of you in the meantime.” The young nurse has smiled at her softly.
She stood over the crib, holding its railing for support. The room was still swimming in front of her eyes,
The thing in the crib turned towards her like an adult being, it was not her son! Its face was white as chalk; two red eyes were glowing like embers in that drawn face; it snarled baring razor sharp fangs. She jumped backward in reflex and crumpled on the floor.