Viewing the sun between my fingers is a pain for my sixty-year old eyes. The forehead pains and the sun appears as a scattered yellow drop in the sky. It feels weighed and hammered by tons. But what’s much more afflictive is forgiving her – her memories.
These breezes feel like tears, the dust pinches like needles and the sun burns me to ash.
My life is lonely, heart vacant and soul unfulfilled. With every breath I take, I feel cursed and raped by destiny.
Twelve years, I am all alone but she never came back. I miss her, my darling wife, and our vow – a life together – has vanished.
The above lines are an excerpt fro, a story of mine which I wrote a couple of months ago. It’s a story about an old man reminiscing his wife who ‘betrayed’ her. Read the full, but short, story here – http://yourstoryclub.com/short-stories-love/love-short-story-twelve-years/
Image from www.gloucestercitynews.net
Edited by Kae ( http://www.fb.com/go.to.young.writers )
Ankit Raj Bachchan