Sunday, March 29, 2009

OH God CAN I REPRODUCE THESE FACTS?MIND TIRED LETS MAKE STORY


Jaya closed her eyes her long eyelashed resting on her cheeks, there was a knock on the door and she woke up dazed from her day dream her saree was wet and little pearl like droplets twinkeled in her shiny hair. Lifting edge of her saree she squeezed some water but it was drenched she ran into the house quickly flinging the wet clothes on the bed she changed into a black kaftan, stumbling on furnture she ran to the door trying to arrange her hair thinking her husband was home.She smiled thinking how he had put fragrant jasmine flowers in her hair yesterday. She opened the door a letter was lying near the flower pot the address in a familiar hand, her heart missed a beat and cold sweat broke on her forehead as she picked it up with trembling hands. It was her Krisna who had written from abroad. She banged the door shut and with her back against the door placed her long fingers on her forehead a solitary tear trembled down her cheek. A little later she found her self on the floor with wet crumpled letter still unread in her hand. She placed her warm lips on its soggy folds, there was another knock on the door this time the confident authoritative knock of her husband. She panicked and ran inro the kitchen tipping a glass vase that shattered and a shard struck her foot, silver of her anklet was covered with thick maroon blood, she hid the letter in the sugar container covering it with sugar and ran back to open the door her bleeding feet making foot patterns on floor, her breath difficult..... TO B CONINUED....

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