Posted by: Mermaid | December 4, 2011

Nesting

She hurries to the window without even turning the lights on moving the curtains aside. Her gaze lingers lovingly on his departing, tall figure. In a few seconds, he disappears. She rests her forehead on the cold glass. He is oblivious of how she feels towards him. Miraculously, she hides her feelings when they are together. Her fear reaches its peak when he warmly shakes her hands, for then, she breathlessly holds herself from melting. How would he feel if he knows that the thing she wants the most is to nest in him… to nest in his arms. Her breath clouds the window. With her finger tip, she writes his name. Soundlessly, she confesses: “Olive juice.”


Responses

  1. Once again you manage to grasp a most critical and highly strung moment, with its whole load of emotions, and pack that into the improving condensed and eloquent style that is becoming your signature (besides the sting, of course.)

    Thanks for a lovely piece.

  2. Eloquent,

    So, am a sting-er? Maybe I should change “Mermaid” into “Bee” :) :)

    I am very, very happy you liked it :)


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