Where

Words

Weave

Magic

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Hi, I’m Mrunmayee.
An aspiring writer, eternal resident of the fictional worlds, and a weirdo who dares to dream.

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Dive into the magic-

  • The Invisible Ink

    The Invisible Ink

    I am immortal. What am I? A faerie? A vampire? A Fate? Just an aspiring artist. Artists, one of the emerging immortal kinds who mortals claim have clocks with chimes so many that not a single of them matters. Every strike in the clock of this kind’s life is as insignificant as their work. Mortals,…

  • Table for two, Coffee for one

    Table for two, Coffee for one

    Damn, she’s fast. I stand there gasping for breath as she runs round the park beneath the star-lit sky, singing to the shadows. The moon is directly overhead now and Mars looks at me with a bright red smile that my paranoid brain decodes as danger. The air has an unnerving chill, or maybe it’s…

  • Do I know me?

    Do I know me?

    There are two things you need to know about me. I never lie, and I can’t dance. Shit. I stand there frozen solid, absolutely clueless and inevitably doomed. The lights shine red into my eyes, beckoning danger. The stage pulls at my ankles and consumes me into darkness. And yet, why do a hundred lights…

  • The last teen

    The last teen

    Nineteen, the frosting said. “Fuck,” I thought as the clock chimed twelve. I believed one stopped aging after eighteen. After stepping into the so called ‘you are on your own from now’ phase of life. And yet, the candle burned brighter than the confusion of excitement and fear in my heart. I cut through the…

  • Tangled

    Tangled

    I hate Saturdays. It had been a Saturday, three weeks ago, when he left. Three weeks. I never knew when he would come back, or even if I would ever see him again. No, no. He would. He has to. I stared out the window as the withered rose petals fell off and infused with…

  • With a drizzle of joy

    With a drizzle of joy

    Was it that the sky cried because I did not? It let go because I could not? It thundered because I stayed silent? Perhaps. Age cracked in the blues up above and let out a howl of freedom, choosing childhood. I let go. The cold droplets traced my cheeks as I stopped amidst my shelter…

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