The lady.


Silence mingled with the cold air that night to form a very depressing concoction that no one would like to tolerate. The clock ticked time away while silence made a rapturous din. You could hear your heart beat, your veins throb of the residual pain from last night's conversation. Things uncalled for and not nearly unexpected hurled at your face with the speed of lightening, all this was a little too fast to perceive let alone take it by your stride at such a small fraction of time. People no where close to one's shadow were compared with a large logical fallacy, people who can have jolly jaunts/nights/ride with impunity, people with no aura of charm so on and so forth were raised to the pedestal of the magnificent Hera. They actually do not qualify to be a grain of gravel that built that pedestal.
A silence pregnant with thoughts rose to our eyes to speak a thousand words discernible even to the one who could not listen, but he could never read them. And she could never comprehend the reason behind this unexpected failure. But as it had to be, life moved on; they hoped tomorrow would be even brighter and silence would fade away in the caophony of a busy morning.


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