Splotch.
The dry words on the foolscap sheet got drenched. I moved the tip of my fingers over my eyelids, they were as dry as they were a while ago. I took out a piece of mirror and looked furtively at the face inside. The eyes had failed to shed tears again.
Splotch! Splotch! Splotch! Splotch!
The coherent vocabulary I had purged through my pen began to flow in a stream. But it was not raining now. Well, the leaves were shedding the remnants of the downpour that left behind words, a protracted wait but no tears.
The leaves erased my discreetly penned emotions. It was a blank page again.
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1 comment:
Splotch! Splotch! Splotch! Splotch!
I almost heard it ringing in my ears..good flow of emotions..nicely penned..having a true touch...but a bit of dark shade..
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