Sunday, April 15, 2012


The Tantric lived in the forest. He was old beyond age. His teeth were filed to points. He wore a loin cloth. He didn’t need food or water; but ate people and drank their blood when his God required him to. One day he started laughing. He laughed so hard, he had convulsions. He died.


blackgames said...

This is my first attempt at fifty-five fiction. I just might expand this into a full story later. And, Pankaj Phukan, thanks for the idea. :)

Destiny...the chosen1 said...

Encountered n aghori or turned into 1?

The Cynic said...

You, my good sir, are most welcome. I may also advice you to not to be enamored of the transient charms of the so called 'fifty-five' and reach longer and deeper into the jar of words for some long and succulent writings.