"Wait for me in the new Alley," he said. "I will come," he promised.
And so, I waited. Days turned into months. Months turned into years. I waited.
The paint in the walls dried and slowly peeled off; but, I waited.
Weathered now through decades, the structure too started crumbling. I still waited.
My once black hair had turned into a blob of grey.; my vivacious youth, now lost away. I still waited.
The place that promised his return ~ I sat on that alley, everyday.
The legs wobbled, of the bench that was once sturdy.
Trying to balance, I waited.
Sad story. But at least she has a purpose
ReplyDeleteStop waiting.
ReplyDeleteI fear she is the fool... Nicely done, Nandini.
ReplyDeletelike they say, she hopes the longest when all hopes are gone.
ReplyDeleteVery nicely done. Sandra Crook.
ReplyDeleteVery sad and touching and poetic.
ReplyDeleteenjoyed the loyalty and the closing play on words - legs wobbly and person trying to stay balanced :)
ReplyDeleteA love like that doesn't come along every day. I think that's a good thing. She has sacrificed her youth for this person.
ReplyDeleteI don’t think he’s coming! Touching story. Like the table, she needs balance in her life great metaphor. - Michele @thisobscurelife
ReplyDelete