storm

” I won’t be able to see you any longer, hope you understand.” She said calmly and matter-of-factly.

He gave a perfunctory nod and looked away. She left abruptly on a short notice, without a proper goodbye.

Slowly he trudged downtown. After wandering miles he was standing at the beach in the gloaming. He laid his hand, listlessly, on the beside rock and plopped down on the sand with his gaunt face facing the setting sun. He lightly propped his head against the rock and his hands on his knees, peered vacantly into the sky flushed with dappled shades of red, yellow and golden. As the sun went down people began to swarm away. A wild storm was still seething underneath his chest.


#FOWC

Published by Smita Ray

Smita Ray is a mother of two lovely kids and hails from the northeastern town of India Gorakhpur. 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.

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