A piece of history,himself



In the middle of the forest,beyond the emerald colored river stood the temple,whose fame was known only to a handful. Raj, being a historian was the lucky few. One had to travel by road, which was by far the easiest of the lot.Then cross the river, which was the home to all sorts of water creatures imaginable. It was believed that had one traveled during the night time, the water demon would gobble up the person alive.

After this one had to travel through the deep forest, abode of greenery and an exemplary reflection of Mother Nature. Encountering many wild(that’s left to one’s perspective) animals on the way, Raj finally reached his dream destination.

Known amongst his circle for the architectural beauty the temple boasted, Raj religiously made this arduous trek every quarter to replenish his potion of immortality. Such was his way of life over the last hundred years.What is a historian without a piece of history,himself?

<200 words.

 Acknowledgements : Written in response to Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. The challenge is write in about 200 words based on the photo prompt. For more details please refer here. Thank you Rogershipp for running the challenge and thank you all for stopping by and reading.






Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s