Spinner Of Yarns

Diya's Nana Ji, or maternal grandfather, had lived a happy and fulfilling life. A successful career, a happy marriage, loving children and loyal friends - he had it all. Though his passing at eighty-one years of age  had certainly been a cause of sadness for his loved ones, it brought none of the agony and regret that often comes with an early demise. The old man had remembered all his friends and family in his will. Diya, the twenty year old college student, had received a handsome sum of money and a cabin in the woods.  Nana Ji knew what this cabin meant to Diya. It was her favourite vacation spot as a child. She had the most wonderful memories of visiting the place with her grandfather and cousins, of playing by the lake and watching goats and sheep graze at the edge of the woods or in the postures nearby. More importantly, the canine representated the bond she shared with her loving Nana Ji. So he had left it to her, with a request that she take good care of it. The cabin...

  It was less than a year ago that I first saw her at a party. Akira. A tall, strong, brilliant, feisty, fiery woman. She was beautiful to the point that it would take my breath away if I stared at her for too long. My best friend, Ryan introduced her to me. I would have tried to overcome my shyness and at least considered asking her out, if only he hadn’t introduced her as his new girlfriend. I knew then that I would never have her. First of all, because a woman like her was clearly out of my league, as she dwarfed me in every department that counts. Second of all, her lover was my best friend, a man who had been more of a brother to me than a friend. Plus he was her equal in all things. A King worthy of a Queen. I never stood a chance. So, I decided to admire her from a distance. I would steal glances of Akira’s lovely face when no one was looking. If she ever asked me to hand her something I’d make sure our fingers would touch. I had to be careful though. I couldn’t let her ev...

 Until a month ago, my life was perfect. I was a regular dude bro who banged pussy (and more) left and right. I had no problems and a bitch certainly wasn’t one. But then I met  her . I met her in a bar. She was the hottest chick there that night. Average height, slim waist and a great rack. I could tell she was younger than me. Probably like early 20s. She looked like this was the first time she was in a bar. She seemed nervous and gave off a submissive vibe. Perfect. That’s exactly the kind of girls I like. Submissive and agreeable. Way better to work than those “StRoNg aNd InDePeNdEnT” bitches. I approached her, threw the usual lines at her and she and I ended up going to my place. What followed was a night of hot hot HOT sex. For someone who looked so innocent, she was pretty freaky in the sack. The next morning, she woke me up with a kiss. This is when I usually tell bitches to get lost, but she was so malleable and clearly wanted to please me. I decided to keep her aro...

Since the day I was born, something has been following me. This thing cannot be seen, nor felt, nor heard. Only it’s effects are visible by me. And me alone. My parents often joke about how when I was a kid, my presence was a jinx to light bulbs. When they first brought me home and placed me in my crib, the light bulb in that room went out. It had been functioning perfectly fine earlier, but hours after I came in, it went out. What’s really strange is that when they installed the same bulb in a different room, it lit up instantly. Something similar happened with candles. Once, during a blackout, our family placed candles in various rooms. The candle placed in my room kept getting put out, as if by an invisible rapid hand movement. Though these occurrences were strange, they weren’t frequent enough to set off any alarm bells for my parents and siblings. At least not for as long as I was a child. When I moved into my college dorm, the entity’s intentions became much more clear....

I was really looking forward to visiting the Kurseong hill station in India. My friends Arjun, Sunita, Vijay and I had been planning this trip for quite some time. We had heard all about the haunted Dow Hill forest and wanted to see it for ourselves. Being the city dwellers we were, we made fun of the local superstitions and beliefs associated with that place and assumed that it was probably harmless. Just a spooky looking forest that had earned a bad reputation due to the overactive imagination of human beings. The myth that intrigued me the most was about the apparition of a headless child in Dow Hill forest. The local legend was that when walking along the path in the woods at night, you would sense a presence right behind you. But you mustn’t turn around. Because if you do, you would see the aforementioned headless child. And once you had seen him, your fate would be sealed. If you didn’t die of fright right there, this headless child would follow you for the rest of your life. I...

 It was Saturday morning, around eight o clock. I was making breakfast when I received a text from my aunt, Marion. It was a request for me to come visit her as soon as possible. This was rather unexpected as I hadn’t heard from her in months. About three years earlier, my aunt and uncle had lost their only child. My cousin David was six years old when he drowned in a pond on the property that my aunt and uncle owned. It was a devastating blow to both of them. Some time after David’s death, they were divorced and my uncle moved away. But my aunt continued to live in the home they once shared. She hardly ever went out. And soon cut contact with all her friends and most of her family. In fact, I was the only family member with whom she had maintained regular contact. However, over the last six months or so, she had stopped calling me and wouldn’t respond to my calls and texts either. I texted her back asking if she was ok. I never received a reply. I had a strange feeling in th...

I was about twelve years old when this started, my brother was about six to seven. Like most kids, Keshav too had an imaginary friend. And like most kids with imaginary friends, he had given his a name, along with distinctive physical features. If I remember correctly, the friend’s name was Bosco. Bosco was short, pudgy and had a grey beard. My parents thought it was a bit strange that Keshav’s imaginary friend would be an adult man, but they didn’t dwell on it too much. Bosco quickly became a part of our daily routine. While getting ready for school, Keshav would insist that I needed to stop hogging the mirror as Bosco had to fix his hair and beard, at breakfast (and lunch and dinner) the chair next to Keshav was to be left unoccupied because that’s where Bosco would sit. My parents were just grateful that he didn’t ask for an extra platter to be prepared, as Bosco did not eat. He just wanted to sit there to keep Keshav company. Bosco would make his presence felt at school as we...