taste of heaven
We ran to the ice cream store to watch the kids in the suits – she was four and I was six.
When father had finally found us, I was standing next to the car, holding the ice cream cone I was given during the commotion, droplets of chocolate on my bare feet. He ran to Lia and took her in his arms. He kissed her and fixed her clothes; he talked to her.
I gulped down the rest of that little cone of heaven and rushed to explain.
“Father, stop what you are doing. My sister is dead.”
The lights went out. Not easily. But, they went out. Eventually. It was inevitable.
He was always on time. “Punctual” Sedikram they called him. He was known. Well known. Far and wide. Throughout the land. And the seas.
He rode into town. Head held high. Full armour. Proud. What a moment. Wonderful. A crowning achievement. He deserved it. He was so talented. He was so brave. He was so unique. The wind was blowing in his hair. The light was reflecting from his armour. The people where singing his name. And dancing. It was a joyful day. A day of jubilation.
On the side walks, merchants were shouting at the top of their lungs “Get your news here, first!”, “Miracle cure – be young forever!”, and “Life enhancer – get it here – get it first!”. So diversionary!
He was rudely awaken by the alarm clock. Time for work. Again. He was late. Again. He would be put on the spot. Again. He knew it. By his boss. By his colleagues. Not this time. He was speeding to work. The other car was also speeding. A similar story. Probably. It was quick. No feelings.
Sedikram cannot go like that- i don’t allow it. Welcome back :)