It was her suitcase, the peculiar purple, with a hand made patchwork. It had to be hers. Saksham eyed the pretty suitcase on conveyor belt at delhi airport. 13 years have passed since he last saw Varsha. Suddenly two young hands picked up the bag. He was mistaken.
Kriti dropped the suitcase and hugged Varsha,as Varsha tried to wipe the tears and focus on her daughters chatter. She was sure it was Saksham.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Irony
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The heart and mind struggle with each other in such situations. Nice one, Asteria.
ReplyDeletethank you so much...and welcome to the blog...:)
Deletequite nice...though thoda difficult towards the end...
ReplyDeletefirst attempt...:)
DeleteThis is good writing doc! Short but loads of emotions.
ReplyDeletethanks yaar...:)
DeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteThis piques my interest!
ReplyDeleteshort fiction...:)
DeleteLovely 55 Asteria! This form is so difficult to write for me
ReplyDeletelong time valli :)
DeleteA beautiful story, loved it :-)
ReplyDeletewoow !! even if its your first attempt.. u were perfect .. i am so fond of this format and trust me you have justified it perfectly !! :)
ReplyDelete