Thursday, 25 September 2014

The Party



When everything was ready he said, let us start the party.

But she was uncertain, is that Sun peeping through those bottles.

No, it is the new light.

No, it is Sun. I know and I don’t like it.

Why are you doing this? Why do you create a scene every time I invite my friends?

But why is Sun peeping through those bottles?

He held her. She was shivering.

He was the only child we had after sixteen years and you won’t even cry.

Only he knew that he had been crying ever since. But he hated telling her.

Word Count 100 words.


This post is part of Friday  Fictioneers by Rochelle Wisoff  http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/09/24/26-september-2014/

6 comments:

  1. on occasions like that proper communications cease ... sad turn really.

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    Replies
    1. thanks for visiting my blog. can we convey everything even when we communicate?

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  2. People express their grief in different ways.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. that is the beauty and irony of life, thanx for visiting my blog,

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