It could be 2080. There could be a Ceremony. There could be a pyre. There could be fire. And in it a corpse that had dreamt and lived.
... and she put down the phone and started sobbing, eventually breaking down in the sofa. If only she never let him go, he wouldn’t have gone missing in the middle of the Indian ocean. Each tear of hers, dropping into her lap was filled with remorse and regret and a fear of never seeing him again.
Rishab held a newspaper over his forehead to block the piercing evening sunrays burning his eyes while they lay in the middle of a Cotton field near an abandoned well. “Chuck it”, he said as his arms started to hurt. “Weak ass”, Sameer smirked. “Yeah, whatever..”, Rishab smiled,” that’s something I used to tell you.… Continue reading Myths, Wishes and Failed Hopes
But some day I shall be looking back over the horizons I've conquered I'd sigh in relief, for then I'd Have a Story to Tell.