Angel-Dove   1 comment

the lake

“She stood by the picture window, alone in the dark lake house, staring out at the lake. The trees moved around in the moonlight hushing her heart with their night whispers. The breeze moved over the water crating moirés on the reflecting moon…the water rippled in its rhythm… as quietly as the tears sliding down her cheek.

She felt colorless, lifeless… loveless.

The only man whom she had ever truly loved was gone. By choice. All that was left was emptiness… the engulfing memories making her feel more and more hollow.

‘Dex…’, she whispered brokenly, ‘…why love, why…’, her voice trailed in darkness, and a sob escaped gently. And so did a few more.

 Time ticked without a sound as she felt too weak sit still even to draw comfort from the wondrous jewel of nature sparkling to provide her some solace… some dim glimmer of hope or consolation.

She passed out… of loss of appetite, too many thoughts and a surge and fall of emotions.

‘Twas way past midnight and still too early for dawn when she stirred. Maybe it was the cool, summer breeze caressing her ‘wake up…’ Her eyes fluttered open. She stared at the ceiling, with the crisscrossing wooden beams. ‘They resemble me so much…’, her patterned thoughts, made her think, ‘…each one meets, but only for a while. Before the contact we’re heading towards each other… and after the rendezvous we’re heading away… hmmm… forming right angles… 90 degrees of separation… ‘twas a good band… 90 degrees… and to meet up again, it would require us to carve out an arc across solitude…’ As she smiled frailly, like an angel-dove, her wounded spirit started flapping its wings, in a long time of coming. The first pink taint blushed the dark night sky open.The lake was touched by golden light and so was the angel-dove soaring into the rays, crystallizing into golden dust the moment its wings were touched.

 They found her body that morning: a vision of white with her black hair spread out, as if she were being comforted by the sadness of the elements around her, grieving for her. The breeze was gently blowing the strands of her hair away from her face, brushing over her delicate lashes… just like he once had in one of their perdu intimate moments. 

Her heart was still. Atlast.”

Posted March 8, 2007 by Deepti G Gujar in articles

One response to “Angel-Dove

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  1. The title, picture and the story mingle beautifully together to produce a mesmerizing effect…

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