A Passage of Small Lights


In response to Rochelle Wisoff’s Friday Fictioneers

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Prompt: Write a fiction in 100 words.



I stood at the top of the stairwell, hemmed in by brick, as if the world had narrowed to one cold passage.

The steps were slick with ice, each one a reminder that living is mostly careful descent. Halfway down, I noticed it – an evergreen ornament, bent under snow, lights blinking stubbornly. It looked foolish and brave. I brushed the needles clean, straightened the droop, and felt my fingers burn.

A stranger passed, then a child, who pointed and smiled as if it were a miracle. The street below remained loud and indifferent. Yet, something in me softened, meaning is made, not found.


© Rohini 2009–2025.
All text, prose, images, and artwork presented herein are the original intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved.
No part of this content may be copied, reproduced, distributed, displayed, or used in any form without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

For licensing requests or usage inquiries, please contact: manomaya0214@gmail.com

Where the Sky Begins

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Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt.

The photo appears to be looking up at a cathedral ceiling with inset stained glass windows. Below the windows looks like a walkway with arched openings.

Photo credit: Jennifer Pendergast.

The child entered the stone rotunda to escape the rain and, without knowing why, looked up. Above, a great dome rested on columns shaped by patient hands, holding the sky in place. Light poured through small stained windows, breaking into color, teaching that truth arrives in fragments.

In the quiet middle of looking, the child understood – the stone did not imprison the heavens, it pointed beyond them. When the rain ended and the child stepped outside, the world felt wider.

What once seemed like limits had become horizons, and faith was no longer a ceiling, but an invitation to keep looking upward.


© Rohini 2009–2025.
All text, prose, images, and artwork presented herein are the original intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved.
No part of this content may be copied, reproduced, distributed, displayed, or used in any form without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

For licensing requests or usage inquiries, please contact: manomaya0214@gmail.com

Lost & Found: Thoughts Edition


In response to Rochelle Wisoff’s Friday Fictioneers

https://wp.me/p2FKsi-4IZ


Image Prompt:


At the park’s edge stood a hut, a forgotten librarian of notices – lost dogs, closed trails, vague warnings. Mira stopped, curious not for answers but for pause. She pulled a sun-faded flyer: Take the long way.

Laughing at first, she wandered paths she’d ignored, noticing trees leaning like old friends, earth soft after rain, her breath slowing without command. By dusk, the sharp edges of her decision had softened.

The brain works the same. Cluttered with memories, fears, and advice. Clarity doesn’t arrive with more notes, it comes from stopping, sifting, and choosing which directions deserve a footprint.


© Rohini 2009–2025.
All text, prose, images, and artwork presented herein are the original intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved.
No part of this content may be copied, reproduced, distributed, displayed, or used in any form without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

For licensing requests or usage inquiries, please contact: manomaya0214@gmail.com

The Arch of Light

In response to Friday Fictioneers

https://wp.me/p2FKsi-4Is



On a beach of silhouettes and silver breath,
each figure learns how shadow still can shine.
The world is stripped to essence,
feet in sand, waves remembering their rhythm,
sky widening its quiet.


I walk there too,
small against the vast,
choosing motion over stillness.
The sun asks nothing of the sea
before it gives its light;
so I learn I need not be whole
to begin again.

Ahead, the horizon is no wall,
but an arch,
where an untraveled world keeps gleaming,
its edge retreating with every step.


Clouds wander, storms loosen,
and far across the water
a gentle glow returns
what my heart once feared was lost.


© Rohini 2009–2025.
All text, prose, images, and artwork presented herein are the original intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved.
No part of this content may be copied, reproduced, distributed, displayed, or used in any form without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

For licensing requests or usage inquiries, please contact: manomaya0214@gmail.com

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