The trapped fly kept pummeling the clear window pane. Tricky transparency, I thought, and the alliteration tickled me. Headlong it flew, hit, swerved, and then once again thrashed against the glass with all its force. Does each fresh blow erase the memory of old pain?
I watched,
unruffled.
That's scary.
7 comments:
No qualms?
absolutely no qualms then, Austyji.patheticaly apathetic.
It does... New pain turns the old pain into beautiful memories, which is kind of sick!
ginger girl , belcome belcome to redredmehendi:)
Hey reshma
happy new yr :) what happened , you seemed to have stopped writing your food blog.Hope all is well .wish you a happy new yr
iam on orkut also.whats your handle there ?mine is meenal mehta ..
hello? where are you?
must be 'siant gobain 'glass !!
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