They walked down the busy roads of Madras, fingers locked, holding hands. She was afraid to let go and get lost in the crowd, he simply liked the way her hands felt in his. People glared at them disapprovingly, at this unabashed display of affection, but they were blissfully unaware of their existence.

One look at them, you would be fooled to think it was spring. It was the onset of summer, the sun bright and blinding, the wind dry and hot, blowing dry leaves and dust along its way. Something had amused her and she couldn’t stop smiling. She talked animatedly, hands moving quickly keeping pace with her hurried speech. His eyes remained fixed on her face, afraid to blink and miss a moment. It wont be until the next weekend when they would meet again at their rendezvous. He longed to press pause, wished the walk to her hostel lasted longer, time seemed to fly they were together. If only time moved slow, there would be no hostel curfew time to worry about, no warden to displease, no parents to be notified about breaking rules – they would have all the time in the world for themselves.

This post was written as part of  Blogging A to Z April Challenge 2021

Posted in Personal, Short Fiction, Uncategorized | 1 Comment