Now, I don’t think about survival. But before dying, I have the courage to ask myself one last time, “Is there any last wish, Mr. before your death?” I paused and inhaled the dampness of the imaginary coffins, the incoherent sadness of those who have already passed on, the exuberance of the inanimate air hovering anxiously around me.
It was not before,
The innumerable outings, the adventure trips and the endless journey to the workspace I generally rely on, that my life started settling deeper into the cushion of comfort. But, in the past years or rather the years ahead from those days, that I realised—–me being in a point of life, where things easily get saturated. The same old routine that drives us over our heels until we topple over. So I decided, to capture this world in my childhood fantasy.
FICTION| 533 WORDS
Since, childhood I have always been afraid of the silence. That silence which hangs between the words, silence that hangs between the sadness and the silence that hangs between the bitterness. It was those moments, I have feared of finding the ‘real me’ in myself than the person I have always thought myself to be.Continue reading “Probabilities Away”