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Elegantly Wasted

It was the perfect day. He wasn't completely sure what that meant because it'd been a while since, well... Many phrases whistled through his head but the one that fit, the words that felt right were - he'd felt alive.

It was like unwrapping a gift and finding something incomparably better than what one was expecting. The rare times when an explosion of giddy joy left one speechless & breathless simultaneously. That perfect, first kiss. The day combined the vibrancy of all those moments and all it had taken was one phone call.

Thing was, it was a phone call from HER.

She was in Bombay. To meet him.

She'd been to the city many years ago on a short trip, but like most out-of-towners, Bombay had scared the bejeesus out of any possible return trips. Until now. So it began - the perfect day.

She didn't remember anything good about the city and he, in his social hermit role, had not seen much of it in the two whole years he'd lived there. That wasn't relevant though. Even as they walked, saw the sights, ate or sat on the jetty watching the sea, they talked. He made her laugh.

He loved the easy familiarity with which they could converse, no matter how long the pause. It'd been almost six years. But they were two people who knew each other so intimately, even their silences counted as conversation. 

He wanted to ask what she was doing in Bombay. After dinner, strolling on the promenade and enveloped by the salt-breeze, they kissed. He stopped wondering. He was at peace. He couldn't stop smiling. It really was the perfect day.

He woke up, still smiling.
But he couldn't remember why.

Then, the phone rang.

Song for the moment: Dream a little dream - Sissel Kyrkjebo

Comments

bhumika said…
very unlike your piece. guess the only post after the girl in the local train, that you mention a girl in this fashion.

but i like it :)
Anonymous said…
@ Bhumika - Once in a while, I try my hand at fiction :)

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