the bridge of her dreams 8

the bridge of her dreams

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

Surya 2

“Only if a female cop watches it and you promise me absolute secrecy. If it gets exposed I will lose my job and reputation.” The doctor said half grudgingly, she too was equally curious to know what was happening, because look-alikes may be possible but fingerprints are unique. No two persons can have same fingerprints.

“I will ask my wife to watch them.” He reached out and clasped the hand of the doctor. He left after a while. “I will be back within a couple of hours with requisite equipments.”

The doctor watched his tall figure disappearing around the corner. She and Inspector Jackie Daniels were childhood friends. Both were obsessed with crimes, Jackie now works in crime branch, she is working here, to complete her study so she could join the force that deals with those monsters who land girls like Surya in asylums like this.

Two days later three persons were sitting in Jackie’s drawing room, Jackie, his wife Jenny and Reva.

“Last night another of them was killed in Madras!” Jackie said, “Now watch it.” He forwarded the tape to a specific place.

The girl was sleeping in her bed; deeply breathing.

“Look at that photograph.” Jennifer said.

There was only one photograph on her wall; it was her parent’s photograph. They died in an accident when she was one year old, no one claimed her thus she ended up in the orphanage.

A misty fume started to come out of the photograph and then it started to thicken, then slowly took a form, the form of the girl lying on the bed. Then it simply walked through the wall and went out of the camera’s range.

The girl was sleeping like a coma patient.

Jennifer forwarded the tape again, one hour later the fume seeped in through the window and slowly vanished in the photograph.

The girl took a deep breath and turned to a side in her bed.


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