She finished all her morning chores in ‘God’ mode. All excited for the much awaited outing. One seat was left in the car and two was the crowd. She faked a migraine and send them off; packing snacks and good tidings.
The boundary lines were drawn. Field was set. Batsmen padded and keeper gloused. Raring to go were the bowlers and bets were drawn.
And then the rain played all day long; left, right and center, thunder along taking the game asunder.
She hung on feeling the air toy with her hair, smug on a future near. Her hair caressed a silent tear on his cheek from a past so distant.
I shot my imaginary web targeting the book, too lazy to get up from the couch. It ricocheted off the book and knocked my tea mug down. She didn’t buy it. I got up to clean; resolved to work on my aim.
Another chit. They came to him everywhere he went; at college, at work. Mocking at him, he was sure they were mean pranks played by someone. He turned his face to them all lest anyone see him with one. Coming out from another failed audition he noticed it; jeering, mocking, condescending and a particularly nasty one. Not resisting this time he picked it up; smiling and turning it over he found a call for try-outs. Life was never the same again for him.
~ On embracing failures
She is late, as usual. Already had five rounds of coffee to keep myself awake. Must’v been held up again by him. Pling! Ah, there she is. The mail.
She loves me. She loves me not.
She loves me…..loves me not.