Another Day

It was a sad and dark morning. Walking on that road he felt lonely. He could not help thinking of the green valley that he had left behind and for ever.

“Another boring day?’ he said to no one in particular.

No one answered. Each one seemed drowned in memories; each one was oblivious of what others felt or did.

“Another painful day,” someone said.

He looked around but could not decide as to who had uttered these words. But he knew that he had chosen a wrong word ; it was to be another painful day.

As he neared the quarry he wished that it was just a dream; that soon he would wake up and the nightmare would end. 

But it was not a dream and the nightmare did not end.

*********

A post for Three WordWednesday.