Numb

Photo by Johannes Schru00f6ter on Pexels.com

Why do not my words reach to you? Actions have been depicting the same for a long time. Still I ponder on the why of miscommunication. Every time I try to react to the irrational questions, I feel like I should adopt silence. It is empty inside. The dark place is numb. Only the song of ‘Linkin Park’ rings in my head and I get lost in its lyrics which defines me.

I want to scream though, out loud where my voice at least reverberates the truth that I am alive. Loosen those tightly pursed lips with words which will be hard to digest but I know, they will not hold any meaning as I have been tagged mentally disturbed.


Are words or actions so difficult to decipher that we easily call a person mentally disturbed? Some people prefer not to speak. They want to be understood. The some who do, will weave a different story. Till then enjoy the song. (Link of the Song in the Text)

by
Kritika

*DO NOT COPY ME*

suRprIse

https://freakymotion.wordpress.com/tag/splash/

Surprise

The water splash was a tight slap to my unstoppable tears. While wiping my face, it slapped me again and soaked me completely in its coolness. The transition of the road to sea left me aghast. Rubbed my eyes thrice but it was still present. Nipped the upper arm to check the reality. ‘Where am I?’ was the question my mind and heart together vociferated and a knock on my shoulder assuaged the sudden fear.

I reminisced the moment when my mouth spoke the opposite of my eyes which bravely faced that of the most handsome man. The same affectionate eyes present at the very scene were looking at me with the same love, weakening my knees but something was strange in his appearance which was confirmed by my looking down his waist. ‘Where are your legs?’ I asked to which he grabbed my hand and said, ‘Lets go home.’ Surprisingly mine too were the same as I toppled on the sand.

‘What the hell is wrong with us? Where are we? What is going on? Would you say something?’ I squawked but he ignored and lifted me up and we dived into the sea.

Chapter 1
Micro Series: Thaumaturgy of Time (Link to Chapter 0)

By
Kritika

Note from the Author
Copyright 2020 (All rights reserved)
Copying of the content and image is not permissible. The writers put in their souls in writing a piece of literature. A prior permission of the author of the blog is mandatory before using the content or the image (which has been created by the author of the blog).

ThauMAturGy oF tIme

https://design.tutsplus.com/articles/how-to-create-a-glowing-fireflies-photo-manipulation-in-adobe-photoshop–cms-31675

Drinking and soaking self in the rain when a voice called out my name. A bottle of whiskey in hand, I thought I left my cellphone in the pub so I turned around to see but found no figure was approaching me. Another thought of deliberately leaving that irritating object arrived which cancelled the former and I resumed the walk.

Thoughts, thoughts and more thoughts started forming a depressing rhythm detached from the musical chime of the rain, the wetness of my eyes had a lot to say. I gulped more and sat under the lonely tree full of leaves which readily accepted my companionship. A lamp post stood besides glaring at me with a wide smile white in colour.

And the thaumaturgy of time began.


Chapter 0
Micro Series: ‘Thaumaturgy of Time’

by
Kritika

Note from the Author
Copyright 2020 (All rights reserved)
Copying of the content and image is not permissible. The writers put in their souls in writing a piece of literature. A prior permission of the author of the blog is mandatory before using the content or the image (which has been created by the author of the blog).