The road begins to double back, like a paperback I read my story, am the heroine and the villain, ‘am the heart and the mind, ‘am the plot and the prologue… the end comes a little too soon
Every sun-down, without fail, she would stand at her bedroom window; looking out into the woods.
She didn’t know why, she didn’t remember, how it began… just that she stood there one day and she stands there every day...
Braiding love-knots in her wild raven hair, playing with the lace curtains… dark eyes, waiting… for what?
The sun-down dark is slow spreading ink. It grows till it hugs me and everything else … tight, a velvet embrace!
I sit with my back to a tree. The blurred shadowy edges spill on the forest floor; the woods have become lovely… tangled in the darkness.
I have been sitting here for centuries. Waiting… For what?
And then, there was light in one of the windows. The only house that stands there.
Someone was standing at the window…
Copyright © Neerja Yadav