Dead Love

By Madhusmita Das

It's been 5 mins since she arrived at her favourite cafe down the street and sat down in the corner table wearing a soft smile going through her memories which are kept safe in her mind. The waiter came to the corner table and wrote down "Two cups of Cappuccino" Ordered by that lady.

The coffee of hers arrived but the 'love' of hers is yet to arrive. She very gently took hers and kept the other cup in the opposite side. The hour hand and the minute hand met at 12, it's already noon. As she got tired of waiting, she pushed the main door and left the place in despondency.

As she reached her home the first thing that catches her eyes is the big photo frame of her 'love' covered with a beautiful garland, who is seating there peacefully looking at her teary red eyes. It's her husband's 5th death anniversary. And she stood there, hands outstretched.

The feeling of his touch left her soul long ago, he found his peace up there leaving hers disturbed. She was aggrieved but didn’t know who to blame.

By Madhusmita Das