Mango Pickle



Those snotty faced urchins were back by my window.

‘Mango pickle.’ The girl squeaked from behind her brother, the crumpled paper bag peeking from her closed fist.

I quickly checked the closed door before retrieving my pair of boots from under the bed. I kept them on the windowsill.

Their faces lit up as they grabbed the shoes and handed over the pickle.

The tanginess lingered on my tongue, while ma entered with soup.

She might search for the shoes, but I knew I didn’t need those anymore.

I’d overheard doctor uncle telling her that just a few weeks remained.

(Wordcount: 100 Words)

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

34 thoughts on “Mango Pickle

  1. Your story is absolutely fascinating. The idea of somebody who is terminally ill having a secret life is really intriguing. It makes me ask why, which opens up the whole family’s situation. You’ve written the story very well indeed, with a terrific ebb and flow of emotion, but no false pity – because your narrator is devoid of self-pity.
    I think that’s a very good story indeed, Kasturi.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks so much, Penny! 🙂 I had imagined the narrator to be a small child and children generally tend to live in the moment which makes them less prone to self pity, I believe. 🙂 Also, the illness is a reason why he is not allowed roadside food like pickles, but then again he is a child! 🙂


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