Aahaa Chennai

Attack! Attack! The target field was vast. It included... roofs and floors, walls and  windows, the soil, the roots, the stem, trunk, branches, leaves, buds, flowers, fruits. Birds turned restless. Water disappeared. The wind joined the attack. A pair of eyes looked down and spotted the very-visible enemy. Heat! A 50-word tale.

The waiting continues... They look heavenward for some signs. Grey clouds appear, vanish... and appear again. A cool wind arrives tickling the leaves, rocking the flowers. Birds screech... the eagerly-awaited event could happen anytime. The buds shout a welcome to bouncy raindrops but the sun above breaks the spell. A 50-word tale.

The blossoms were ready and so too was the colour palette. The colours waited anxiously. The purple and blue were sure of being chosen. The black had faith in its uniqueness. The red had no doubts at all. The pink, white, green and yellow, remained silent and then...went missing. A 50-word tale.

After being cosseted by  tufts of green, the tender rays of the morning sun, brushed by cool air from the water sprayer, turned this way and that by curious birds, tickled by rows of marching ants, pressed against the noses of hungry squirrels, I've finally decided to take a break. A 50-word tale.

White roses grumble. Ugly wrinkles and brown patches. Sun sends 'New-look' kit.