Hold on..._Tchau, Tchau Beena_Goodie Basket_Late Bloomer
Catalog Guide:
Hold on...
The trees blur right on sight as I pass each one slowly, driving to our place. I can't even understand why I'm torturing myself like this, but I need to do this, it feels right. It feels like closure, like letting go, but it also kinda feels like grabbing on.I finally arrive at our place. The burgundy couches still looks as polished as before, one might say that they even look new. Did they buy new couches?I brisk walk to our favorite couch.The waiter comes to my table to attend to me. She flashes a full smile and I successfully force a smile back.I am just here for dessert. I say before she c...
Tchau, Tchau Beena
Tchau, tchau Beena “Sheela, what is going on? Why did you sell all your investments without consulting me? Is it about that fuckinwww.onedoor.ccg citizenship again? You have gone insane, Sheela, completely mad!”“Ajay, mind your language. Beena was right. I am nothing but a doormat to you. The moment I stand for myself, you resort to swearing and calling me names.”“Sheela, come to your senses. Beena is a worthless witch who has cast a spell on you. Are you really going to leave me and take the kids and leave? Drop this madness and let's go back to how things were. I will take some time off from work and let'...
Goodie Basket
I wanted to drop the basket of goodies into a trash bin. But that might be noticeable. Especially at a hospital, which would seem to make the gesture all the more heinous, when such a kind gift could bring a much-needed smile to any number of people here. I decided to hold onto it, even though it felt heavier as the moments passed. I did, however, make a thin slice of an opening which allowed me to extract and indulge in some sweet treats. And why not? I was hungry and needed something to do. After being involuntarily volunteered to deliver it as one of the last few people present, there wasn’...
Late Bloomer
“My kids. They’re both late bloomers. What can I say?” Bev’s raspy voice sounds defeated, tired.She turns her head and gazes out the dirty, aluminum framed window. From her vantage point five floors up, her view is mostly of gray clouds.Her snow white hair, normally soft and fluffy, is flat from too many days on a hospital pillow and too many days without a proper shower and shampoo. She sighs, a deep heave that lifts her chest, moving the thin hospital gown and jumble of tubes and wires with it. Difficulty breathing and low oxygen are a big part of the reason she is here this time.We are...