Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Friday, January 2, 2015

Rivedersi

The curtain swooshed in the winter winds. Baring the wall bedecked with souvenirs from their journey together. Framed black and white saga of golden days. Those summers were spent now. Inside the four walls, beneath the same roof, they were separated by a flight of stairs. Winter burned them day and night. His lie. Her mistrust. His passion for money, hers for living. Both guilty. Both proud. Both hurt. Rain rattled against the window, against their hearts. They stood at either ends of stairway. After an infinity, he rushed down the steps just as she climbed up. The winter died.


Courtesy: Friday Fictioneers

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4 comments:

  1. Dear Ruby,

    Perhaps a happy ending?

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    ReplyDelete
  2. Totally a happy ending, Rochelle.
    Namaste.

    ReplyDelete
  3. A beautiful story and I love your use of language here. This sentence: "The summers were spent now" especially got me. I was expecting it to say the summers were spent and instead it was all done, and all "now" at the same time. A delightful surprise of a sentence. Thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you so much for your kind words. You made my day.

      Delete

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.