Simile

There she was typing furiously on her cell phone after food. It was a quick fix meal prepared simply. Two days since that feeling was trying to get to her. It was meant to happen this morning.

Her time at work was tiring than usual, even though she was home on time. Despite the exhaustion, she wanted to cook. She was unable to recognize that urge that was making her spend time cooking at first.

Chrome of turmeric and slits of green chilli reminded her of her childhood bestie. Sampada liked sunflowers, large bright petals daring the onlooker to live life in huge proportions.

She was living the essence.

She was happy. It was evident. Very few knew the story inspiring her thoughts. She was at a stage in life where sex was easy. Yet, she was high on being able to reinvent herself linking her distorted present to the part she lost in the past that was not perfect either.

Not all was lost.

Struggle was the common denominator. She was laboriously gathering all the bearings she stumbled upon in bits. She was regaining her identity after a long period of sleep. Amnesia was leaving her mind.

“Life is touch phone. While one is high or low on success or grief, trying to connect the charger, unknowingly the phone screen maybe touched randomly several times… multiple applications may pop open… You didn’t intend to… One has to close them before keeping the phone away else charging will take forever and before long, the battery would be discharged again”, she concluded.

She had closed most of the applications already.

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About Olivia

Corporate worker, textile designer, writer.
This entry was posted in Fiction, Story and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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