"Let me Go" I yelled, he always wants to hold me, touch me.
It is disgusting to be held to one corner of a room day after day, night after night.
"Why can't I go away from here?" I asked nobody in particular.
But he always follows me, anywhere I go. Sometimes he hides when its dark but I know he is watching even then.
He is treacherous and I will not let him harm me in anyway.
I remember when he started following me. I was meeting Rekha for lunch; she is so beautiful. I had always wondered what it would be to feel her, touch her. After which I had taken her for a long drive to my beach house. We made love there, though she was shy and resisting it. I know she was just putting on an act to excite me. In the aftermath, I don’t know why she was calling me a monster. She was bleeding, it was gruesome. She was screaming, to shut her up I put pillow on her mouth. She kept kicking me and struggling. When she stopped screaming, she was breathing hard as if deprived of oxygen. She looked at me with wild eyes. I could not look at her like that. It contorted her face into something very ugly. I left and when I took last look at the beach house. It was eerily quiet and that is when I saw this dark figure emerge from the dark. I started running but he never left my side.
Everything after that has been a haze from then on. I kept going in and out of some stinking, dark places. Then I was transported to this place which was clean and had white walls.
Along with him, there are others who keep watching me. I am tired, I feel like I am caged for him. He from time to time makes his appearance. But I am smart I never allow him to come near me. I keep running in the room and shouting at him. Yet his hand is always outstretched to hold me, to touch me. When it becomes dark he hides I have been trying to figure where he hides. I call him my enemy but people here say he is my Silhouette. They don’t know how dangerous he is. He wants to kill me for hurting Rekha, he does I know. Please believe me, please.
Stop him from killing me, “Please don’t kill me.”
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Mellow Moon
A small attempt at poetry...here it goes
Soothingly moon hung in the sky
So strangely beautiful and lovely
Radiantly made my emotions fly
Loving memories were remembered sweetly
The silvery cast spread
swallowing up the dark
looks like a spell which people dread
Arousing feelings unashamedly stark
The luscious fullness
Steals away beauty of stars
Makes us dreamy full with lullness
Love stands out washing away all scars
Soothingly moon hung in the sky
So strangely beautiful and lovely
Radiantly made my emotions fly
Loving memories were remembered sweetly
The silvery cast spread
swallowing up the dark
looks like a spell which people dread
Arousing feelings unashamedly stark
The luscious fullness
Steals away beauty of stars
Makes us dreamy full with lullness
Love stands out washing away all scars
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Jinxed Trip
Smoke rose from the hut, a small one with thatched roof and decorated windows. I wondered if I could ask for the directions there. I was tired and lost in the woods. I have never been a keen walker, plus being a city dweller it's impossible for me to find this adventurous. I should have never listened to my friend about this trip into the woods.
I slowly approached the hut and knocked. The aroma was quite delicious or maybe I was hungry. A beautiful woman opened the door, I smiled my best smile. She looked surprised and then I saw a gleam in her eyes, very unnatural.
“Hello…, I am lost.” Wow! What a wonderful opening sentence.Without saying anything she ushered me in with a sweep of her hand.
It was a strange hut, funny masks which almost resembled human faces. She pointed to a seat which looked like a very huge pan, I hesitated. It all seemed strange.
“I just need directions.” I said helplessly.
I noticed the boiling pot on the stove, of an enormous size. I could fit into it easily was a crazy thought I had.
Those were my last thoughts anyways.
I slowly approached the hut and knocked. The aroma was quite delicious or maybe I was hungry. A beautiful woman opened the door, I smiled my best smile. She looked surprised and then I saw a gleam in her eyes, very unnatural.
“Hello…, I am lost.” Wow! What a wonderful opening sentence.Without saying anything she ushered me in with a sweep of her hand.
It was a strange hut, funny masks which almost resembled human faces. She pointed to a seat which looked like a very huge pan, I hesitated. It all seemed strange.
“I just need directions.” I said helplessly.
I noticed the boiling pot on the stove, of an enormous size. I could fit into it easily was a crazy thought I had.
Those were my last thoughts anyways.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Humour Me
“This discussion has gone quite far.” He said, inadvertently trying to exude the remaining mental peace. His shoulder was throbbing and he could concentrate no further.
“Alright, then humor me, for a while.” She said not convinced yet giving him a chance.
“I did not do it. Now do you want me to explain it further, would you even listen?” He pursed his lips in frustration.
She smiled even in a situation like this. She wanted to say ‘No’ but her sheer nature to always come up with the unexpected answer allowed her to say, “Yes I would, why don’t you tell me without wasting any further time.” She looked at her watch to give her speech a final touch.
He was mildly surprised that she said ‘Yes’ but he should have known otherwise. He had an affair with her for two years, until recently, six months back when she had asked him to stop meeting her as her husband was getting suspicious. He was happy as he had his secretary to have fun with in her place.
“Okay, I was chasing him, but he stopped suddenly as if sensing my presence. I quickly hid behind a pillar. I heard the gun shots and I peeked to see. That’s when the bullet came tearing into the flesh of my shoulder. I saw a black Ford and its window rolling up. I staggered near his body and fell unconscious. I cannot be accused of his murder. Its not possible.” He finished.
“Then how do you explain the gun in your hand, when they found you? She adjusted her glass frame and scrutinized him.
“We have gone over and over about this. It is my gun but I wasn’t carrying it with me. I don’t know how it was there in my hand when they found me.” He almost cried out aloud.
“Do you think I am a fool? You hired me and you are paying a good amount. Let me remind you for every hour that you spend wasting, giving me a story full of crap. I don’t think you have understood the implication of this accusation, or the situation that we are having a conversation in a jail about a murder, just not any murder but that of my husband. Oops I meant my late husband.” She winked at him.
“My hour is up as your lawyer.” She got up and left.
With nothing to do in his cell, he looked out of the only 12”inch by 12’inch window. He was shocked to see her get into a black Ford and drive away.
“Alright, then humor me, for a while.” She said not convinced yet giving him a chance.
“I did not do it. Now do you want me to explain it further, would you even listen?” He pursed his lips in frustration.
She smiled even in a situation like this. She wanted to say ‘No’ but her sheer nature to always come up with the unexpected answer allowed her to say, “Yes I would, why don’t you tell me without wasting any further time.” She looked at her watch to give her speech a final touch.
He was mildly surprised that she said ‘Yes’ but he should have known otherwise. He had an affair with her for two years, until recently, six months back when she had asked him to stop meeting her as her husband was getting suspicious. He was happy as he had his secretary to have fun with in her place.
“Okay, I was chasing him, but he stopped suddenly as if sensing my presence. I quickly hid behind a pillar. I heard the gun shots and I peeked to see. That’s when the bullet came tearing into the flesh of my shoulder. I saw a black Ford and its window rolling up. I staggered near his body and fell unconscious. I cannot be accused of his murder. Its not possible.” He finished.
“Then how do you explain the gun in your hand, when they found you? She adjusted her glass frame and scrutinized him.
“We have gone over and over about this. It is my gun but I wasn’t carrying it with me. I don’t know how it was there in my hand when they found me.” He almost cried out aloud.
“Do you think I am a fool? You hired me and you are paying a good amount. Let me remind you for every hour that you spend wasting, giving me a story full of crap. I don’t think you have understood the implication of this accusation, or the situation that we are having a conversation in a jail about a murder, just not any murder but that of my husband. Oops I meant my late husband.” She winked at him.
“My hour is up as your lawyer.” She got up and left.
With nothing to do in his cell, he looked out of the only 12”inch by 12’inch window. He was shocked to see her get into a black Ford and drive away.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Fragile Beauty
Whisper of cold enwrapped her; she was able to feel the cold up to her brittle bones.
“Where is my blanket?” She wondered.
She slipped her feet in the woolen slippers. Her knees invariably croaked in an effort to get up from the rocking chair. She rubbed her wrinkled hands for warmth but failing miserably. Her hair still long and in the wave of white, black wasn’t amiss.
He watched her from behind the kitchen counter. She was murmuring something to herself, but in the quiet of the house he heard it as a soft song playing just for him. Her tall slender figure in those famous blue silk was fumbling to find the blanket. She tripped over a chair and with agility unknown to an old man; he was there at an instant to hold her at that moment.
Her stricken wide brown eyes had the same spirit she had some twenty years ago. It is so strange that her eyes never looked old. Her fragile body in his hand felt so perfect and her beauty could not have ripened any better with age. The most prized possession in his hand smiled. A smile he always fell in love, every time he saw.
In her soft voice, laughing she said, “You saved a visit to the doctor, Roy.”
“Where is my blanket?” She wondered.
She slipped her feet in the woolen slippers. Her knees invariably croaked in an effort to get up from the rocking chair. She rubbed her wrinkled hands for warmth but failing miserably. Her hair still long and in the wave of white, black wasn’t amiss.
He watched her from behind the kitchen counter. She was murmuring something to herself, but in the quiet of the house he heard it as a soft song playing just for him. Her tall slender figure in those famous blue silk was fumbling to find the blanket. She tripped over a chair and with agility unknown to an old man; he was there at an instant to hold her at that moment.
Her stricken wide brown eyes had the same spirit she had some twenty years ago. It is so strange that her eyes never looked old. Her fragile body in his hand felt so perfect and her beauty could not have ripened any better with age. The most prized possession in his hand smiled. A smile he always fell in love, every time he saw.
In her soft voice, laughing she said, “You saved a visit to the doctor, Roy.”
Friday, May 02, 2008
Without You - Part Two
It was morning and the sun rays hit me hard on the face. I covered my face with my hand as I woke. The bed clock chimed, tick tock, 12:00 pm, Sunday 20 April.
“Oh damn!” I said, “I am late.”
Viola has asked me to come with her to church. After the sermon we were going to discuss the date for our marriage with the priest. I looked at my cell phone forty two missed calls from Viola. I was supposed to pick her up at 8am for church. I was cursing myself for such callousness.
I had no nerve to call Viola up, what would I say, “Honey, I am sorry I missed our date with the priest.”
My head ached from too many drinks yesterday. Suddenly someone was pounding my door. With each pounding my headache worsened. Oh God! Do I really have to guess who it was? I had done this third time; she will not forgive me, will she? I hesitated before opening the door. But when I did, it was a treat to sore eyes. Viola my mouth formed without any sound. She was in her best lemon yellow Sunday dress. Her face shiny and covered with her black curly hair. A small stream of sweat dribbled down her cheek. Her eyes covered with fashionable shades.
She did not say anything just marched inside his room, her heels clacking on my marble floor. I looked at my room through her eyes. Beer bottles were strewn everywhere. Whiskey in glasses and half eaten pizzas were lying on the floor. TV was loudly screaming something at both of us. She took the remote and shut it. “Oh my God.” I thought I said, but no it was Viola.
“Leslie” she turned removing her shades. Her eyes were green or grey I could not come to decide yet after four years of knowing her. They were full of fire and questions, and they held so much heat I backed two steps.
“Honey” I stammered, “I can …”
“No I don’t want any explanations. I am not stupid.” She glared when she thought I was going to say something. “No don’t utter a word. I am tired, Leslie. You promised you would come this time. You know what I think now. You don’t want to get married to me. You don’t love me anymore.” When I did not say anything, she continued, “You don’t even love God. You have no faith. I am just a mere human being, you can easily forget.”
She always brought God between us. I hated it. It was a sore point. What had me loving her have anything to do with God.
“I detest going to church. I don’t want to listen to anyone who thinks he can make good of me. Who is God? Have you seen him?” I paused, “No I don’t think so. What has all that got to do with whether I love u or want to get married to you?” I yelled.
She looked palled, taking few breaths she said, “Leslie, we love each other because God has blessed us. He is the one who brought us together. And before him I want us to bind ourselves for eternity. Don’t you want that?” she asked benignly.
That’s it I could not control myself, my anger. We had this discussion many times to wane.
“I don’t want that.” I blurted, “I don’t want anything from you or your God. I did everything possible to bring us together. There was no God; it was my and your desire to be together. And we are. But I am tired I don’t know, whether I want you anymore? Whether we even should be together?” Then I paused in my heightened speech. Like a devil had possessed me I said,
“I don’t know, whether I love you anymore.” I pressed my hands to my temple closing my eyes.
It would have been few seconds but when I looked up she was stunned. Tears brimmed her eyes, all the fire had died down replaced by melancholy.
“If that’s what you think, I will leave it to God now to decide whether we were made for each other. Goodbye Leslie.”
Not again I thought, yet God gets to decide that for her. I saw her walk swiftly out of my door, and my life.
I don’t know how long I had been kneeling at the altar of all Gods. I didn’t know whether he would listen to me, if he existed. But I believed in the power of her love, love of God. I went back up. Uncle was not there, I slowly went back in to see her. She looked angelic and such mystic powers she held. She was my God and I was losing her.
Months had passed since her accident. And as the doctor had said, “Recovery of consciousness is followed by post traumatic amnesia (PTA), when the person is alert and may be able to converse normally but has lost continuous memory.” I would say it was miracle or I had started believing in God. She did not remember the whole day of events on the day of accident.
She sat in the wheelchair, her legs paralyzed after the accident. Doctor said it is curable but may take months or even years for her to be able to walk again. But my Viola was alive and with me, we were together. He had heard my prayer. He is there, is now my belief.
“Oh damn!” I said, “I am late.”
Viola has asked me to come with her to church. After the sermon we were going to discuss the date for our marriage with the priest. I looked at my cell phone forty two missed calls from Viola. I was supposed to pick her up at 8am for church. I was cursing myself for such callousness.
I had no nerve to call Viola up, what would I say, “Honey, I am sorry I missed our date with the priest.”
My head ached from too many drinks yesterday. Suddenly someone was pounding my door. With each pounding my headache worsened. Oh God! Do I really have to guess who it was? I had done this third time; she will not forgive me, will she? I hesitated before opening the door. But when I did, it was a treat to sore eyes. Viola my mouth formed without any sound. She was in her best lemon yellow Sunday dress. Her face shiny and covered with her black curly hair. A small stream of sweat dribbled down her cheek. Her eyes covered with fashionable shades.
She did not say anything just marched inside his room, her heels clacking on my marble floor. I looked at my room through her eyes. Beer bottles were strewn everywhere. Whiskey in glasses and half eaten pizzas were lying on the floor. TV was loudly screaming something at both of us. She took the remote and shut it. “Oh my God.” I thought I said, but no it was Viola.
“Leslie” she turned removing her shades. Her eyes were green or grey I could not come to decide yet after four years of knowing her. They were full of fire and questions, and they held so much heat I backed two steps.
“Honey” I stammered, “I can …”
“No I don’t want any explanations. I am not stupid.” She glared when she thought I was going to say something. “No don’t utter a word. I am tired, Leslie. You promised you would come this time. You know what I think now. You don’t want to get married to me. You don’t love me anymore.” When I did not say anything, she continued, “You don’t even love God. You have no faith. I am just a mere human being, you can easily forget.”
She always brought God between us. I hated it. It was a sore point. What had me loving her have anything to do with God.
“I detest going to church. I don’t want to listen to anyone who thinks he can make good of me. Who is God? Have you seen him?” I paused, “No I don’t think so. What has all that got to do with whether I love u or want to get married to you?” I yelled.
She looked palled, taking few breaths she said, “Leslie, we love each other because God has blessed us. He is the one who brought us together. And before him I want us to bind ourselves for eternity. Don’t you want that?” she asked benignly.
That’s it I could not control myself, my anger. We had this discussion many times to wane.
“I don’t want that.” I blurted, “I don’t want anything from you or your God. I did everything possible to bring us together. There was no God; it was my and your desire to be together. And we are. But I am tired I don’t know, whether I want you anymore? Whether we even should be together?” Then I paused in my heightened speech. Like a devil had possessed me I said,
“I don’t know, whether I love you anymore.” I pressed my hands to my temple closing my eyes.
It would have been few seconds but when I looked up she was stunned. Tears brimmed her eyes, all the fire had died down replaced by melancholy.
“If that’s what you think, I will leave it to God now to decide whether we were made for each other. Goodbye Leslie.”
Not again I thought, yet God gets to decide that for her. I saw her walk swiftly out of my door, and my life.
I don’t know how long I had been kneeling at the altar of all Gods. I didn’t know whether he would listen to me, if he existed. But I believed in the power of her love, love of God. I went back up. Uncle was not there, I slowly went back in to see her. She looked angelic and such mystic powers she held. She was my God and I was losing her.
Months had passed since her accident. And as the doctor had said, “Recovery of consciousness is followed by post traumatic amnesia (PTA), when the person is alert and may be able to converse normally but has lost continuous memory.” I would say it was miracle or I had started believing in God. She did not remember the whole day of events on the day of accident.
She sat in the wheelchair, her legs paralyzed after the accident. Doctor said it is curable but may take months or even years for her to be able to walk again. But my Viola was alive and with me, we were together. He had heard my prayer. He is there, is now my belief.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Without You - Part One
The rain was pouring. The news had shaken me out of my wits. My Viola, my dearest viola was in the hospital. How could that be? I regretted instantly my foolhardy decision to go to this erroneous party. I was driving like a lunatic. I had to be there sooner than it’s too late.
The nurse at the hospital had called me, to say Viola D’cruz had met with an accident. She had found my business card in Viola’s purse. My thoughts were in turmoil, where was she going in this downpour? What had happened? Was it me and our last fight? No, I did not want to think of the worst. I was just few blocks away.
At the hospital I rushed to the reception. She mentioned 5th floor, ICU. I took the steps two at a time, forgetting completely about the elevator. Panting when I had reached the corridor, uncle D’cruz was sitting on the bench, he had his head in his hands. I slowly stood next to him dreading to know about her condition.
“Leslie!” he exclaimed, “my dear boy, Viola…”
Her name came out in whisper. At that moment my heart cringed, I kneeled down, tears stinging my eyes. I could not find my voice, I was thinking the worst.
“What happened, uncle?” my voice was hoarse.
“She called me late and said she was coming home. The hospital said that the taxi was crushed by a truck on the road. The taxi driver died instantly and our Viola has been injured badly.”
The doctor came out to meet them, “Who is from the family here of the patient?”
“We are.” I blurted wanting to know what it was actually the doctor had to say.
“Please do come in my office, I need to discuss the matter with you.” He said edgily.
Uncle looked helplessly at me, I assured him with my look. “I will come with you.”
I was shaking from inside did it show, I wondered. I sat tersely on the seat. “Well I am her fiancé, doctor please tell me how is she?” I thought I sounded desperate, so be it.
“She is suffering from diffuse axonal injury.” He said noting I looked blank he continued, “Which is one of the most common and devastating types of traumatic brain injury. In the accident, her head was rapidly accelerated or decelerated and that has caused this injury. The severity of it indicates loss of consciousness that is she is in coma right now.”
“What does that mean, doctor, will she be fine?” I asked eagerly.
“Well, I don’t know how long she will be in coma; we are trying our best with all medications. We have to monitor if the drugs are working or not. Please have patience, Mr. …?
“I am Leslie Fernandez” I said absently. I continued not satisfied with what was I supposed to do now, “Doctor, what will happen now, what can we do to make it better?”
“Mr. Fernandez I am sure u feel anxious, but we have to just wait for the medications to work. I have seen patients come through a coma, but the problem is that this is quiet severe. Those who do wake up, 90% of the times often remain significantly impaired. Let’s hope for the best and…”
“And Doctor??” I asked impatiently.
“Prayers might help, Mr. Fernandez.” He smiled benignly.
I left the room dazed, prayers. I hadn’t been to church for a long time. That was one of the complaints Viola had. I met uncle and told him what the doctor had to say.
“I am shaken from this son; I don’t want anything to happen to my dearest girl. Go see her, be with her, it might help. I have heard even when unconscious they can hear you. I will go down for a bit.” Saying that the old man left, gimping on the way.
I entered the room noiselessly. She was on the bed with all the tubes jutting everywhere. The monitor was beeping in rhythm incessantly. Her head was bandaged and her face had few injuries. She looked frail and life seemed to have fled from her body. I sat down on the stool afraid of touching her. It is so strange I was afraid of touching her, where as I often held her closely. With some courage, I held her hand in my hands.
“I am sorry baby, I really am. I don’t want to lose you. You are so precious even though I have said hateful things. Please forgive me, come back to me.” I cried softly knowing quiet well there is a chance she may not hear at all. I won’t have it; she would have to come back to me. She could not punish me like that. She was wonderfully soft hearted.
I left my anguish along with me. I could not see her so lifeless. Uncle was sitting out when I came out.
“Where are you going, son?” he asked.
“Uncle, I have to go now. But I will be back. Please call me if anything, anything happens.”
I could not go home. I wandered in the hospital; there was a room that had God of all religions. I sat down in a corner. Thoughts were swirling in my head. Her smile, her voice, her eyes, her soft touch, her kind words, her nagging, her jolliness, her silliness, her…
I looked at all the God’s. He is one right; I closed my eyes bent on my knees. I didn’t know what to say. I just did.
“I have loved her and I will always love her. I want her to know that. I want her to be with me forever, happy and smiling. Not like this, it can not end like this. Please don’t take her away from me, don’t you see? I need her.”
I sat down remembering the time before her accident.
The nurse at the hospital had called me, to say Viola D’cruz had met with an accident. She had found my business card in Viola’s purse. My thoughts were in turmoil, where was she going in this downpour? What had happened? Was it me and our last fight? No, I did not want to think of the worst. I was just few blocks away.
At the hospital I rushed to the reception. She mentioned 5th floor, ICU. I took the steps two at a time, forgetting completely about the elevator. Panting when I had reached the corridor, uncle D’cruz was sitting on the bench, he had his head in his hands. I slowly stood next to him dreading to know about her condition.
“Leslie!” he exclaimed, “my dear boy, Viola…”
Her name came out in whisper. At that moment my heart cringed, I kneeled down, tears stinging my eyes. I could not find my voice, I was thinking the worst.
“What happened, uncle?” my voice was hoarse.
“She called me late and said she was coming home. The hospital said that the taxi was crushed by a truck on the road. The taxi driver died instantly and our Viola has been injured badly.”
The doctor came out to meet them, “Who is from the family here of the patient?”
“We are.” I blurted wanting to know what it was actually the doctor had to say.
“Please do come in my office, I need to discuss the matter with you.” He said edgily.
Uncle looked helplessly at me, I assured him with my look. “I will come with you.”
I was shaking from inside did it show, I wondered. I sat tersely on the seat. “Well I am her fiancé, doctor please tell me how is she?” I thought I sounded desperate, so be it.
“She is suffering from diffuse axonal injury.” He said noting I looked blank he continued, “Which is one of the most common and devastating types of traumatic brain injury. In the accident, her head was rapidly accelerated or decelerated and that has caused this injury. The severity of it indicates loss of consciousness that is she is in coma right now.”
“What does that mean, doctor, will she be fine?” I asked eagerly.
“Well, I don’t know how long she will be in coma; we are trying our best with all medications. We have to monitor if the drugs are working or not. Please have patience, Mr. …?
“I am Leslie Fernandez” I said absently. I continued not satisfied with what was I supposed to do now, “Doctor, what will happen now, what can we do to make it better?”
“Mr. Fernandez I am sure u feel anxious, but we have to just wait for the medications to work. I have seen patients come through a coma, but the problem is that this is quiet severe. Those who do wake up, 90% of the times often remain significantly impaired. Let’s hope for the best and…”
“And Doctor??” I asked impatiently.
“Prayers might help, Mr. Fernandez.” He smiled benignly.
I left the room dazed, prayers. I hadn’t been to church for a long time. That was one of the complaints Viola had. I met uncle and told him what the doctor had to say.
“I am shaken from this son; I don’t want anything to happen to my dearest girl. Go see her, be with her, it might help. I have heard even when unconscious they can hear you. I will go down for a bit.” Saying that the old man left, gimping on the way.
I entered the room noiselessly. She was on the bed with all the tubes jutting everywhere. The monitor was beeping in rhythm incessantly. Her head was bandaged and her face had few injuries. She looked frail and life seemed to have fled from her body. I sat down on the stool afraid of touching her. It is so strange I was afraid of touching her, where as I often held her closely. With some courage, I held her hand in my hands.
“I am sorry baby, I really am. I don’t want to lose you. You are so precious even though I have said hateful things. Please forgive me, come back to me.” I cried softly knowing quiet well there is a chance she may not hear at all. I won’t have it; she would have to come back to me. She could not punish me like that. She was wonderfully soft hearted.
I left my anguish along with me. I could not see her so lifeless. Uncle was sitting out when I came out.
“Where are you going, son?” he asked.
“Uncle, I have to go now. But I will be back. Please call me if anything, anything happens.”
I could not go home. I wandered in the hospital; there was a room that had God of all religions. I sat down in a corner. Thoughts were swirling in my head. Her smile, her voice, her eyes, her soft touch, her kind words, her nagging, her jolliness, her silliness, her…
I looked at all the God’s. He is one right; I closed my eyes bent on my knees. I didn’t know what to say. I just did.
“I have loved her and I will always love her. I want her to know that. I want her to be with me forever, happy and smiling. Not like this, it can not end like this. Please don’t take her away from me, don’t you see? I need her.”
I sat down remembering the time before her accident.
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