For the benefit of the many new followers, I am reblogging this fictional short story from 2016. Everyone else has already seen it.
This is a work of fiction. A short story of 2000 words.
The hood felt like sacking, open weaved but still impossible to see out of. Where it touched his face, it was rough, like coarse rope or string. His mouth was dry, and he felt cold. Even without being able to see, he could tell that he was naked. His rear end hurt, and it felt as if he was sitting on something metal, with sharp edges. He couldn’t move his legs or arms. Something was holding them tight and secure. He looked to his left and right, as if that would make any difference. There was light somewhere, strong light; he could tell that, even though his head was covered.
Javed had been walking to work. Was it yesterday, or just this morning? He couldn’t be sure. The small van stopped just ahead of him, and a man…
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