fiction, Uncategorized

Wistful – Short Fiction

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The room was garnished with the most luscious of elements. Bright, velvety flowers lay strewn across the neatly made bed, from which emanated the fragrance of splendour and a resident whiff of the exhilarating mystery that lay ahead at the fall of midnight-darkness. A silver tray, filled up to the brim with carefully selected array of fruits, lay perched on the table near the adorned door.

Rhea ran her deeply painted eyes over the embellishments, done studiously with the sole intention of celebrating the uniqueness of the night. Plaintive motes reflected from the murky corners of the room blinded her vision, as a lone drop of tear rolled down her rosy, made-up cheek. As on a cue, a southern summer breeze that sailed through the partly open window settled down on her damp face and stroked it in its vain attempt to erase the redundant streaks of melancholy.

The impatient thud of the door being closed startled her. She rose from the bed and stood against him with her head hung low. The wax and wane of her heart gripped her, gluing her frail body to the floor.

“Hi”

The longing that reverberated in her husband’s voice failed to pierce the thick, stoic veil of her heart. She felt an unprecedented gurgle emanate from the deep recess of her throat, nevertheless.

“Hi,” she uttered, forcing a smile on her face.

She realised then that she had a lifetime ahead to try and forget her past.

But, if only she could. 

~~~~~~

fiction, Saturday Specifics, Uncategorized

Soliloquy- Saturday Specifics

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Image Source: Here

I feel relentless waves of sleep lash against me. My body, at present an embodiment of weariness, screams at me, pleading to be permitted to rest. I look around speculatively. My dreary eyes rove around the surrounding to rule out unassuming silhouttes of danger lurking around.

How could I let my body sleep unless I rule out the nasty tentacles of harm?
As the guardian, being the soul,  am I not the one to take care of my bodily presence in this world?

Looking around, I see warm, compassionate hearts meandering beside me. Hearts that fed me when I was hungry. Hearts that tended to my wounds ever so caringly. Hearts that caressed me exactly where I wanted it to be. Hearts that looked in to my eyes and smiled, as if I meant the world to them. Hearts that whispered to me lullabies of love, when I yearned for it the most. 

They wouldn’t hurt me in any way, would they?

Those chaotic days in the dark eerie corners of the street are behind me, so are the minds that were repulsively hazardous than the stones they threw diligently at the battered souls. I have been rescued for good. Now, as I slip slowly down into the serene haven of slumber, I feel caring hands stroking me slowly.

Convinced, I yield to the seamless pleas of my being.  I sleep peacefully till the last shred of tiredness is eased out of me. I sleep knowing that I am under the watchful eyes of my saviour.  Hunger pacified, thirst quenched, I sleep, sound, sane and satisfied for once in my life.

~~~~~

P.S: This post is tagged with ‘Saturday Specifics’, a sub section of this blog where I put up something creative- a story, poem, haiku, Flash Fiction or a Book Review.

P.P.S: Dedicated to all those amazing people and organisations in the world who inhabit animals, either as pets or as a way of providing them shelter.