Tuesday, October 2, 2012

100 Words

He was moving that day like a whirlpool near window from where I could see every minute detail as vein on the leaves, paw of chirping birds, even the dampness on his face. This happens once a while describing purity of emotions when everything else looks miniscule in bigger picture but what remains is the hand full of memories we soak in sunny days and keep them for inundated warmth. I fear those days may never intercept. Sometimes it’s difficult to choose from ocean of pearl, once you pick, taking care becomes eternity and eternity never is possible.

1 comment:

  1. Can you be a little more elaborative ? I know this is your unique way of writing but perhaps you should experiment a little