Was it too much to ask? I look up to find a tall man confused – probably wondering if I was worth a shot or not. I wanted to convince him to give me the two pennies he’d been juggling in his palms. I wanted to polish his shoe, and tell him that I’ll earn it – that I won’t take his money for free. If none of the above managed to draw the coins towards me, I wanted to give him enough reasons. But all I could manage to do was look at him. Words were swallowed in the darkness of this mess I brought myself in. Tears were dried because the skin needed them more than the world. He looked at me, still having the same question mark on his face, and I smiled. Continue reading “From the eyes of Hopeless.”
It was late in the evening, and the sun had just started to set. Dusk opened its arms showering bitterness on the atmosphere of the city. The wind was chilly, and the lost souls roamed the streets with nowhere to go. The moon here had always come up just before the sun, but today was an exception. Call it coincidental, or pure symbolism, but for her, it was nothing short of a strong evidence that what she did was perfectly fine, at least, to her.
She sat in the Starbucks Café, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. Her face was cold, and impassive.
“Are you waiting for someone, ma’am?” a young man asked her, pointing towards the empty chair in front of her.
She looked up to find a fair-skinned, young gentleman impatiently waiting for her reply. Before she could see his face, her eyes got fixed on his bracelet – it was a sight which forced her mind to never-ending flashbacks. The now placid face slowly tormented. She clung on to her scarf in such a way that it was next to impossible to find out what it had beneath it.
“Excuse me?” the young man interrupted her erratic thoughts.