She said things are different. Her jet-black hair doesn’t agree. Her smile is like the wave which sprawls itself on the shore and recedes into nothingness. Momentary, beautiful and smooth. But something goes wrong, in the end. There is a slight, subtle holding back, before leaving the shore. The silkiness isn’t there.
His face is in the shadows. The soft yellow light from the table shade illuminates the room in round-ended patches. Colorful broken pieces of a porcelain vase lie in a pool of water on the floor. Like shot soldiers in a war. The petals are tired and drained.
Somewhere a taxi blows its horn. He makes a sign with his hand. She picks up her black bra from the bed.
He looks at her outstretched hand. With shaky fingers he counts the notes and keeps them on the table.
Slowly the footsteps fade through the hallway. And silence rules.
He has been sensing some change in her behavior for some days now. Perhaps she has hooked a new boyfriend. But he badly wanted her to stay in his life. He couldn’t bear the silence alone. He had never found anyone who could appreciate the simplicity of silence, as if, it whispered in his ears.
But nowadays, even taxis have become expensive and his income hasn’t increased.
He never felt guilty. He was just scared that she would leave him
The yellow cab weaved through the sparse traffic.
She had been going to his place for quite some time now. Staring out of the rear window, she wondered about how strange his behavior had been for the past few days. But she liked his fetish for silence.
She squinted at a tiny handheld mirror and removed a strand of hair from her clear face. She smiled as she reassured herself. Though deaf she was still young.
It was just that sometimes she felt scared that he would get bored of her.
4 comments:
Such an element of mystery in your blogs! Couldn't figure out who you had written about- MYSTERIOUS in every sense possible... ND
Johnny...a lil unclear...thoughts are like smoke...give it direction to move.
Wow...now that is what I call real stuff. Insecurity....both of them living in. Perhaps trust is a rare commodity these days or we are so ignorant that we sell it at dirt cheap price!!...who knows? But what is in your account....deficit or surplus?
Your descriptive style makes your writing so enjoyable to read. But at the same time, it plays the villain too. I think you are in a hurry to finish your blog. And in the hurry, you leap and leave behind a few things unsaid. I do not think it is deliberate. But the thing is, while you begin the paras on blissfully even grounds, you jump of the cliff while ending them. :)
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