“I’ll come soon,” he said, as he walked towards the boat. It’d sail him far away. “It’s important,” he’d say, “for our future.”
He left, without a backward glance. She stood still, her eyes hopeful, the pain in her backbone not withstanding. For it was not hours, but days that turned into weeks; and then months. She stood rigid, where he had left her, not wanting to cheapen her love, her dedication, her trust.
Unawares, life slowly drifted away from her body, and grew into a flower in that same place. It’d dangle, every time a boat passed by. Alas, it wasn’t him.
Copyright 2016 © Nandini Deka