Birth and death of a story

The movie was good, light-hearted and entertaining. There was a momentary flash of smile on her face as she remembered some of its scenes, but then the pain came back and the smile disappeared. During the intermission, they had a heated exchange of words which had caused a wound in her heart. Like so many others in the past, this too would heal soon, but the scars remain and cause a discomfort forever.
Sitting on the backseat of his mobike, she let the moist breeze touch her face. She closed her eyes and let the coolness seep inside; and thus, take a flight into the realms of imagination. By creating fictional characters, she tried to bring in some color to her own life.

The kids are playing in the garden, waiting for their dad to come back home, while she is busy in the kitchen, preparing evening snacks. Together they paint the picture of a perfect family.
The sound of TV announced his arrival, and she brought in the samosas and tea to the living room. He looked at her tiringly and slumped on the sofa.

‘Would you like to go to CoffeeDay?’, he asked her, thus breaking the chain of her thoughts. ‘Ok, if you say so.’, she replied coolly and went back to where she had left the story.

Silence had engulfed their lives. Thankfully, the children filled it up with their giggles and noisy banter. ‘If only he could look at me once, or touch my hand, he would have known that I am running fever for past two days.’ A tear rolled down her cheeks, but she made no attempt to wipe it off. ‘He won’t notice it anyway’, she sighed.

They reached Coffee Day, and he offered her his hand which she hesitatingly accepted. The smile that was suppressed for so long had finally surfaced. The pain and discomfort was still there, but she decided to deal with it later. The images of the sad wife,her indifferent husband and their playful kids disappeared as she squeezed his hand with the reassurance of love.

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