akshara
Little pearl drops. So deceptively real. Unmistakably posh, pretentious and pretty.
Expensive imitations.
Its like looking in twin, white mirrors.
The curse. It had found him. Just like it had found his father before him, and his father before him. The curse of generations. There was no escape was there? The curse would haunt him until the day he died. He waited for the words to fall and seal his fate.
"I now pronounce you man and wife"
The cabin stands by the lakeside. A lone candle burns inside. A newspaper lies scattered across the floor, carelessly shucked after an evening of reading.
He lies on the bed, an empty bottle of gin by his side. The plaque above his head reads " For Services Beyond The call of Duty: Afghanistan, 2009"
She had plans. She knew she did. Plans at the office, plans to work, to move ahead, to make something of herself. Plans were important. Plans were necessary.
But a wave touched her as she sat there on the sandy beach, her back turned to the world and her gaze following a lonely gull, she smiled.
Plans could wait.
The hinge was rusty and creaked as he entered the room. Slowly, like a thief, he thought wryly. In his own home.
She was lying on her back, her eyes closed and her plump lips swollen. His best friend, lay next to her, his chest heaving.
He closed his eyes and allowed for a few, short breaths. Then he picked up the gun, and fired.
He stared at the runway watching her silhouette as she swayed past- willowy, dark haired, a smirk on her patrician features. He should never have come here. And then her eyes settled on him for a second and the smirk widened. She turned and she was gone. He stared at the deserted runway. He should never have come here.
She stares at the sky, his crumpled note in her hand. He's probably in another city by now.
She waits for the loneliness to come. Crush her, smother her.
It doesn't. Instead, the sun continues to shine and the world doesn't fall apart.
She throws the note away and makes a cup of coffee.