I found my voice after a long time. The protest has calm down as majority of the crowd was transported by the police vehicle to somewhere else. No one cared about us, as we were slithering through the crowd of spectators disappearing among the millions once again.
“That must have been terrible. And look at me, always thinking about how terrible my life was.” She loosened her grip on my shirt and pulled away.
“I am making your life terrible now.” And her lips curled slightly as her eyes lit up once again.
“Less terrible than my life was before. And well did you feel good?” I looked at her my gaze fixed on her face.
“Yes somewhat. But better things are poison to me. I can inhale them, and part of me dies in extreme agony.”
“What happened after that?” I asked looking at the crimson sky.
The birds were returning home after a heavy work day, and were calling each other frantically to ensure everyone is safe. Throngs of people were already crossing the roads and were heading towards their safe heaven where they know the probability of seeing tomorrow is maximum. And the shops have already lit up and was gearing up for the late evening business, the last hope of making money for the day. We stood there like two kids in despair nursing each other’s salted wounds.
©Jumbled Letters 2018.
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