Typewriter Stories

Three college students namely Raghav, Prachi and Ranbir send a letter of extortion to a miser jeweller as a prank only to find him dead the next day. They find themselves framed for murder by the real culprit.

Based on the India of 1950s, a young writer, Palash Chakraborty falls in love with the girl named Amrita, his desire to become a writer comes true, his life is climbing a new step of success every day but then all of a sudden things tend to change drastically when he meets a gangster. The story talks about the inner and external conflict of person, will Palash be able to fight it?

❝ She was soft-hued; muted in color. Like peaches 'n' cream. Or pastel macarons- tough exterior, shell-like; soft interior, cream-like. . . . Delicate and collapsible. ❞ - T. D. † English Literature student, Tristan Delacroix never thought of himself as a poet; merely an observer. A linguaphile who captured moments of deceptive insignificance on his typewriter. Street muralist, Faye Hughes never thought of herself as a bohemian landscapist; merely a girl who liked colors and mixing her own paints. A pastelist who smeared moments of juxtaposing emotions on Philly's walls. And on one fateful starry night, the word-loving observer met the bohemian landscapist... Copyright © 2014 Madhu

"You're looking at me like you never seen your girlfriend before." She smiled showing her perfect white teeth. "And to answer your question your birthday was yesterday." She is mine. She is my girlfriend! I leaned in planting a kiss on her beautiful lips. It felt so real, so perfect. She hummed as I deepened the kiss leaning forward as she laid back down on my bed. I let go of her lips tailing hot kisses on her neck. I bit the base of her neck making her moan as she pulled the hairs that was on my head. My hand went down passed her waist as I notice she was just wearing panties. I tugged them down slowly... --------------------------------------- This all started when my best friend Dylan told me to write down the description of my dream girl. Then 'POOF'! It was like she was deliver into my mind the same day causing me to have this amazing real like dream. My name is Logan Cooper. I am a famous author who writes love novels. Shame right? I write about people falling in love with the underdog kind of stuff and I even haven't found my one true love... yet anyway. I started typing about Anna Night (my dream girl who I gave a name to) on a typewriter that was sent to me by someone unknown on my 22nd birthday. Anna was in an abusive relationship with this guy named Jake. She gains enough courage to run away from him. She does to the next thing she can think of. Running to the farthest house she seeks to ask for help. "She bangs on the door desperately and cries for help." I read out loud the last sentence I have typed on my typewriter. BANG! BANG! BANG! I shot up from my chair. What the hell? BANG! BANG! "Is someone home?" I heard someone whimpering on the other side of the door. "Please I really need some help!" Can it be...? ------------------------------------------- This is our first story so please give us a chance. ***Will have some mature content*** ~ Kayla and Crystal