syzygy

She clenched her daughter’s blood-spattered cloths as close as she could in her failed attempt to hold her tears. It’s an year now when her daughter was brutally raped and murdered. All planets were aligned in syzygy. It was perfect dark. Tears continued to stream down her face. Her son, who was a columnist at a local daily, was sent to jail for using ‘inappropriate words’ for the person who raped his sister. Who says things change? With a heavy heart, she immersed her daughter’s cloth in the gushing river.

On her return her eyes fell upon the man who had raped her daughter. He looked feeble and indisposed after labouring all day.


The post is written in response to Sammi cox’s ‘Weekend writing prompt’. The word was completely new to me. 🙂

Published by Smita Ray

Smita Ray is the mother of two lovely kids and hails from northeastern town Gorakhpur, U.P, India. Her perpetual displeasure arising from the hypocrisy in the society underneath the semblance of religion, culture as well as the conditioning for compliance urged her to put down the impressions in her mind. In her spare time, she likes to have some culinary adventures with her kids or crafts.

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