The "twist in tale" and "conspiracy angles" in stories have always enamored me. When I write short tales on the Readers' Club WhatsApp group everyday for the "Word of the Day", one of my goals is to ensure the reader remains hooked to the story till the end. I know my tales are very small. But still managing to give something at the end of the story is not only a challenge but my goal as well. 
Irrespective of the genre, whether it is crime or politics or a fantasy, this element is an important part of my story telling. So here are three such stories written by me, which straddle multiple genres but retain that essence of twist at the end. I am sure, I have lot to learn and improve on my skills, so your feedback is always welcome.
Pulverulent
adjective [puhl-ver-yuh-luh nt, -ver-uh-luh nt]
covered with dust or powder
Tale: Runaway Hit
He
 was able to manufacture a stable pulverulent compound in his laboratory
 after years of research. This white powdery substance had miraculous 
ability to treat several diseases if used in measured doses. As the word
 spread about this, people clamored for
 its formula. The scientist not used to the spotlight and not knowing 
what to do just ran away from the town. A local drug lord somehow found a
 method to produce the newest compound in town, at mass scale. In party 
circuit the drug is known as 'Runaway Hit'. At last count 938 people 
have died because of overdose.
Plutocracy
noun [ploo-tok-ruh-see]
the rule or power of wealth or of the wealthy
Tale: Status Quo
It
 was a country where rich few ruled over the poor masses. The rich had a
 lifestyle which would put even Gods to shame. On the other hand poor 
lived in squalor and disease. There lived a man of meagre means who 
decided to overthrow this plutocracy, with
 the wealth of his ideas. He groomed a team of really beautiful girls 
who wooed the rich using their bodies. These girls created a web of 
lies, deceit and blackmail which divided the coterie of rich into many 
fragments. Now this country is ruled by a small minority of intellectual
 elite. The masses are now poor and uneducated. Now it is easier to 
exploit them than ever before.
Cackleberry
noun [kak-uh l-ber-ee]
a hen's egg used for food
Tale: An Apology
A
 cackleberry broke open, but he was surprised to see no yolk inside. He 
knew he would go hungry yet again. It was ten days since he had anything
 to eat. Under the spell of that dreaded witch, any food he had touched 
in last ten days turned inedible. The 
milk curdled into blood. The bowl of peanuts turned into live 
cockroaches. The bread turned green with fungus. His mother was right. 
She had told her that if he doesn't respect his teachers, a witch will 
trouble her. He could now smell his favorite pancakes being cooked at a 
distance.
His mother woke him up and served him pancakes dripping with honey at his bed. There were scrumptious scrambled eggs too. He gulped the entire breakfast like a hungry boy would do. Instead of saying thanks, he whispered in his mother's ears, "Sorry."
His mother woke him up and served him pancakes dripping with honey at his bed. There were scrumptious scrambled eggs too. He gulped the entire breakfast like a hungry boy would do. Instead of saying thanks, he whispered in his mother's ears, "Sorry."
 
 
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