Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul



The Tragedy of a Common Daydreamer

My mind is graveyard of thoughts. Of things profound and absurd. Of words that faded in one breath. Left buried and unsaid.

Sometimes, like ghosts, they slip through my door— in the quiet of the night when I’m two seconds away from sleep. Pulling me up from the covers.

At times, in the middle of the day, they sit with me. Side by side. At work, when I’m staring too long at the screen. Or even when I’m randomly talking to my friends.

Remember day that when you told me about the tragedy of the commons? On how individuals tend to exploit / neglect the well-being of shared resources? For a second, Ayn Rand and capitalism came to mind.

But, like all worthy thoughts, I shrugged it away.

I let my mind wander with elves, pixies and silverdusts. I thought about how tragic must it be for other people not to trudge the earthy soil down to the very womb of nature. On how magical the day is with the leaves murmuring softly as the wind blows. The birds chirping from a distance completing the grand orchestra for just you and I to hear.

How tragic must it be for other people to think climbing the mountains is common.

Believe me, I almost choked on my lunch when that memory popped in my head. And I realized, I have killed another conversation with my fancies. We would have talked about Atlas Shrugged. You probably would have asked why I read this kind of crap. And though I do not agree with Rand’s philosophy, I would have told you the woman has got something right, too.

I would have love to hear what you think if I ask you whether the dream of heaven and greatness should be left waiting for us in our graves— or whether it should be ours here and now and on this earth.

But that time has long gone. This is the tragedy of being a common daydreamer. Being left with nothing but a candle for another dearly, departed conversation.

“Here lies Maria, finally one with her thoughts.”

If I were dead, my epitaph would probably read like this.

Not Again!

Not Again!

I am back at Pemberly—again. This time, I am playing the piano with Lady Catherine de Bourgh watching from behind. I cringe to the shadow of her majesty. Her regal grace is creeping on my spine like a snake.

Wait… what am I doing here in the first place?

As if to answer my query, Mr. Darcy came barging into the hall with his eyes fixed on Lady Catherine. “Your highness, I am baffled and enraged”, his voice raised. “Why do you have to take her here?”

“My nephew, you astonished me.” Lady Catherine, with all her arrogance and flair, walked towards Mr. Darcy. “I expected to find a more reasonable woman. But heaven and earth! Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”

“Leave me and my choice be, please!” He retorted and snatched me out of the mansion.

“Ria…” Mr. Darcy stopped, his breaths catching up to mine.

“Riaaaaa!” a loud voice came out of nowhere, “RIA. Wake up!” mom yelled, shaking my senses.

“MOM! Not again!” I wailed

“What again?!”

Word Count: 175

Here is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. This week’s photo prompt by Louise of The Storyteller’s Abode which surprisingly reminds me of my favorite classic, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. It was January 2016 when I first wrote the fiction, Daydreams, which fantasizes Fitzwilliam Darcy and I believe it’s about time that I write a follow-up. Sorry Lizzie!

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is a weekly writing challenge where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using 150 (+/- 25 words). Thanks for another fun prompt, PJ! 😀

Enjoy more stories here:


Chaos and Daydreams


Chaos and Daydreams
A Haibun

I stared at the ceiling with its white and bare surface. Five seconds. Ten. A minute turned to hour. From a glass window, the sky is a tug-of-war between a cloudy and a sunny day. The trees sway with the soft gust of wind— a hint that the great ball of fire is winning. Yet, here I am again with my morning habit. This ceiling is my retreat amid the office chaos. It is a void, an empty space, where oblivion resides. No gossip, no tapping keyboards, no pressure and fake smiles. Just my own breath and the ceiling’s distant stare—and a long list of daydreams about unicorns and rainbows and tree houses and kites.

Winds howling a song
Office teeming with chaos
Wish I was outside

© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.

Photo by Comstock Images/Getty Images via

In response to dVerse’s Haibun Monday #15: All Things Quotidian

Poet’s Pub today is hosted by Toni with his herb-scented piece. We are to write a haibun out of the ordinary, everyday goings on in our lives. Interested? Join the band here!:)


Dreams of You

Written for Mind and Life Matters’ Limerick Challenge Week 12: Dream

Artwork by Lucy Salgado

The night felt awfully gloomy and blue

I chased it away with mem’ries of you

With you by my side

My arms open wide

I plunged into a blissful dream so true

Here’s to everyone feeling gloomy and blue. Smiles! I’m thinking of you. 🙂

Oh deer…


“Yes. You— me— here— now.” she softly whispered as she slithery wrapped her arms around him.

Their breaths became heavier; their feelings are burning with desire. He greedily kissed her like he’s never tasted such sweetness before. She plunged on him with hunger like there’s no time for charade. In that one splendid moment they both shared thirst. Groans and gasps formed a rhythm but upon their zenith, a flash of light struck his tired eyes.

His eyes popped wide open. Seeing his whole family stunned outside, Bob suddenly realized, the door is ajar!

“What are you looking at?” his wobbly voice came roaring from inside the room, glimpses of his trance still lingered in his mind.

“N-n-nothing. Nothing at all, Bob. J-ju-just your hanging deer from yesterday’s hunt.” Granny Gina hesitantly answered before slamming the door close.

He rose up the bed, rubbed his forehead— still half awake and half asleep. A few seconds ago he was having a dream, probably the best one he has ever had. “Oh dear, what could possibly have I done?” he anxiously thought.

Word Count: 180

Written for Roger Shipp’s flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction For the Purposeful Practitioner. A sentence is provided and we are to craft a story to under 200 words length. This idea is a courtesy of a non-blogger friend who got curious of flash fiction. Ha! I don’t know what to say… 😀

This week’s prompt is: “You lookin’ at me?” (You may reword the quote using proper grammar/etiquette. if you like.)

Enjoy more stories here:


One morning, we were striding the path of Pemberley’s garden where sunflowers bloom and wink to the sunny skies. I have never seen such stunning place devoid of artificial façade.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner paced slowly in front while Darcy walked by my side. I blinked my eyes in disbelief—I’m with the Fitzwilliam Darcy!

He was talking endlessly, something about the flowers, arts, Netherfield, and breakfast but I only nodded mechanically and my thoughts were fixed on his face. My eyes traced the strands of his hair, I want to touch them. And as he speak in fervor, with those lips—cherry and inviting—I couldn’t help but bit mine.

“Young lady, if you’re not going to stop staring like that, I’m afraid I’m going to kiss you.” he teased.

I blinked trying to make sense of what I’ve just heard.

“Ria…” he paused, his face closing to mine.

“Riaaaaa!” a loud voice came out of nowhere, “RIA. Wake up!” mom yelled, shaking my senses.

“MOM! Not before the kiss!” I wailed

“What kiss?!”

Word Count: 175

Here is for  Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt. This week’s photo prompt by Sonya of Only 100 Words which surprisingly reminds me of my favorite classic, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. P.S I’ve been ogling  Fitzwilliam Darcy ever since I read the book. I hope Lizzie forgives me for fantasizing her beloved. 😀

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is a weekly writing challenge  where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using 150 (+/- 25 words). Thanks for another fun prompt, PJ! 😀

Enjoy more stories here:


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